by Jaime Reese
With a face and now a name, Aidan had been granted the authority he needed to tap Dylan—legitimately—to use government resources to narrow down the list of potential locations where Rafe could take Gabriel. He had also received special clearance to summon one person for Gabriel’s recovery mission.
After the fact, but still aboveboard…now.
That explained why the stoic, patiently waiting statue of a man leaning against the kitchen counter had arrived twenty minutes before the official clearance had been granted. Wall. The man had arrived with nothing more than a small backpack and a guitar case.
Ben rubbed at his chest, trying to level his breathing so the thumping would settle.
Cal had headed back to his room to shower and change while Rachel had gone downstairs to check on the staff. With only Aidan and Wall remaining in the room, at least he didn’t have people constantly asking him if he needed anything or if he was fine.
He wasn’t fine…by any stretch of the imagination. He wouldn’t be until Gabriel was at his side.
He closed his eyes and tried to expel any negative thoughts. He thought of Gabriel, his larger-than-life smile and the wicked spark in his eyes when he teased him. The way those big hands cupped his face and the tingle that vibrated throughout his body when one of his fingertips traced along Ben’s jaw and down his throat.
I love you. I miss you. Please come back to me.
Ben’s eyes shot open when he sensed a shift in the air. Wall moved from his perch to stand by Aidan’s side as they both stared at the computer. Neither spoke, so he couldn’t read their lips. Wall pointed at the monitor and Aidan’s glare intensified. The echo of Ben’s heartbeat throbbed in his head when Aidan grabbed his phone.
“Are you sure?” Aidan asked, not bothering with a greeting or niceties. He paused, the other person on the line obviously continuing the conversation. “Wall and I are heading out now. How soon can a team get out there to meet us?” With a nod toward Wall, Aidan ended the call and grabbed his keys, heading toward the door.
Ben bolted up from his seat just as Aidan spun around and raised his hand, palm toward him.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I’m going with you!
“I know what you’re thinking and that’s a hard no.”
Ben clenched his hand into fists at this side, willing the rage to level off. Or was it fear? He stared into that challenging hazel gaze from across the room, daring him to stop him.
“I. Said. No.”
“No!” The roar of protest tore through Ben’s throat as he launched forward, ready to attack Aidan.
Aidan startled, his eyes rounded for a moment before he hid his surprise at Ben charging toward him. Or maybe it was hearing Ben for the first time, likely sounding more feral than human. Aidan instantly gripped Ben’s face. Hard. “I. Said. No.” That hazel gaze drilled fiercely into Ben. “I can’t risk something happening to you. You need to trust me and Wall to bring him back. Because make no mistake, we’re bringing Bull back. Understand?”
Ben’s chest heaved with each breath sawing through his lungs. He looked to the side, following Aidan’s line of sight.
Wall picked up his worn guitar case in one hand as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.
Tears stung Ben’s eyes, and he shook his head in Aidan’s grip. He wanted to be there. He needed to hold on to Gabriel to avoid everything from slipping away.
Aidan squeezed Ben’s face, drawing his attention again. “I’ll bring him back. But I can’t put all my attention on him if I’m worrying about you. Trust me. Please.”
He closed his eyes and begged for strength. The rational side of his mind knew Aidan was right.
Resigned, he nodded.
Aidan released the death grip on his face. “I’ll text Cal to come up and I’ll keep the security detail in the lobby and have another outside your door. I’ll text you when I have him.”
Ben nodded as Wall and Aidan raced out of the room, hope flickering in his heart.
Finally alone, he didn’t know what to do.
The rage in his body came in bursts.
The pain ebbed and flowed.
Life had taught him how to deal with people leaving. One day there, gone the next…a little at a time or all at once. But all that training couldn’t prepare him for this.
He felt more lost than ever. As if his heart and lungs were ripped out of his body but he was still expected to continue living.
Gabriel will come back. He promised.
He slumped on the couch, every ounce of energy and strength draining from his body in an instant. Clasping his hands together, he did something he hadn’t done since he was a small boy, at his bedside for the nightly ritual alongside his mom.
He prayed.
He begged and hoped someone would heed his call. A higher power. His parents watching over him. Or maybe Gabriel’s mother, or his grandfather. He would take anyone’s and everyone’s help.
Please.
On birthdays, he didn’t bother with wishes for himself. His New Year’s resolutions were never selfish. He didn’t barter or trade promises for favors.
But tonight, he gave himself a pass. He would beg and barter anything for just one wish to be granted.
Please come back to me.
Ben. Think of Ben.
That soft laugh that escaped when Bull tickled his sides or ghosted his lips over a sensitive patch of skin.
That joy. That happiness.
That teasing glint in his bright eyes and blinding smile.
“You’re going to beg me to kill you!”
Ben. Think of Ben.
Sunlight peeked through the high window behind him and cast a light on the wall facing him. Daybreak. He had survived the night.
Now he needed to get through the day.
Vulnerability didn’t suit him. But tied to a rusty metal chair in a large empty room left him with little choice and fewer options.
The only answer was to stop fighting.
He wouldn’t give in… He would never give in. But fighting back would fuel Rafe’s rage and shorten his time. Right now, he needed to buy time if he hoped to make it back to Ben.
He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself, seeking that control that always kept him balanced. Sometimes, true control meant recognizing when relinquishing some of it was necessary.
Survival was the endgame.
After one slow, shallow breath, then another, he forced his mind to pay attention to the memories he recalled rather than the pain piercing every millimeter of his body.
Ben. Think of Ben.
Sweat trickled down his temple, traveling across his cheek and down into his mouth. The salt mixing with the tang of copper from his split lip was a far departure from the sweet cake treats Ben would make.
Think of Ben.
His broken nose was useless, and every breath hurt as it ripped through the dry valley of his parched throat. His vision was blurry and his mind foggy, but he pieced together another visual of those beautiful green eyes and that bright smile filled with so much life and happiness. He could see Ben so clearly in his mind. And if he tried really hard, he swore he could smell that deliciously sweet smell of sugar that always lingered in his hair and on his skin.
The multiple blows to his head had likely left him with a trail of lumps and bruises and one hell of a concussion. He could no longer feel his arms or the tender flesh of his wrists torn by the rope. Pain sliced through him as he took in another shallow breath. Either from the broken ribs or the two stabs Rafe had inflicted to his side.
Maybe it was three. He had lost count.
One night down, one day to go.
Keeping score wasn’t important. Time was. It was as precious as the memories and visions filling his mind, holding him steady.
Keeping him alive.
Ben. Think of Ben.
He would bleed and suffer whatever pain came his way. He would summon every ounce of strength left in his body to make it
out of this. Anything for a chance at a life with the man he loved. The man he knew waited to hold him, to touch his neck, to tease him. To kiss him. To press that cold nose against his throat.
To kick his ass for scaring the shit out of him.
Then Ben would tell him he loved him, with his signs, with their private touch of the jaw and neck, and that sweet voice he rarely used.
Every image vividly painted in Bull’s mind. Every thought filled with love and life.
Every memory filled with promises for more.
The memories, smiles, happiness, and joy each new day with Ben brought were his lifeline, fueling his soul, keeping him alive.
He wanted more smiles. More time.
And fuck it all to hell, he was surviving the pain of his broken body to get through the day to hold his Ben again. Forever.
He took another slow breath.
It would be a cold day in hell before he became another name on Ben’s list of people who had abandoned him.
Fuck. No.
Anything that man wanted, Bull would grant with his very last breath.
And right now, he knew Ben wanted his ass back home.
He felt it.
I promise I’m coming back to you.
Ben’s kindness and selflessness were the beacons of light in this dark and cruel world. Bull wanted to guard it, nurture it, prevent others from stealing the very essence that defined that fiery light in Ben’s soul. He may be weak against Ben, but he sure as hell wasn’t weak against anyone else. Especially not this son of a bitch who thought he had a chance of taking him away from his Ben.
With swollen eyes, he peered up at Rafe. Even with the blurry vision, he could see the vengeance and rage staring back at him as Rafe took a step closer. Bull glanced at the man standing at the back wall, then returned his gaze to Rafe.
“You think you will escape this? The only way to escape this is by dying. Fight me.”
He remained silent.
“After I kill you, I’m going to kill your sister.”
Bull’s pulse sped at the threat, but he refused to give this prick the reaction he wanted.
“Maybe I’ll destroy her little bakery store while she’s there.”
Bull tried controlling the anger threatening to boil over.
“Fight back, you bastard!” Rafe took another step closer, pushing his words through his gritted teeth. “Maybe during the day. While Ben is working. A fire would end it all. Those commercial ovens can be tricky at times.” Another step closer, close enough Bull could feel the heat of Rafe’s breath against his swollen face as he spoke. “I want you dead. Suffering until you beg me to kill you. You can die here, today, or I will take them all from you and let you slowly die from the grief.” Rafe’s jaw twitched with tension. His eyes scanned Bull’s features with frenzied madness. “Beg me! Tell me you want to die!”
There wasn’t a doubt in Bull’s mind Rafe would fulfill his promise. But Bull was too damn stubborn to give Rafe the reaction he sought.
A twisted, almost hysterical laugh escaped Rafe, a stark contrast to the fury staring back at him. With a sweeping motion, Rafe reached behind himself and pulled forward the submachine gun strapped to his body.
Bull stilled. A cold wash of fear and worry suffocated him.
The sneer curled Rafe’s lips as a growl erupted, growing louder as he turned the weapon over and swung the stock of the gun upward toward Bull’s face like a baseball bat. Bull’s head whipped to the side, the sheer force of the impact almost enough to rip his head clear off his body.
Everything felt loose.
Broken.
His body twitched and shivered.
A second blow to his knee had him jerking forward in the chair, the pain instantly radiating throughout his body. Even restrained, he couldn’t fight his body’s instinct to protect itself. He bent his head forward as close to his chest as possible.
Rafe fisted Bull’s hair and yanked his head back, the sudden movement sending another jolt of pain to his scalp and churning the bile in his stomach. “I’m going to watch the life leave your body. One glorious second at a time,” he said, spittle flying.
Glass shattered a split second before the man against the wall facing him fell to the ground.
Bull remained still as a faint whiz breezed by his ear and a perfectly round dark red hole suddenly appeared in the center of Rafe’s forehead. The grip in his hair weakened and Rafe fell back and onto the floor.
Wall. He was the only man Bull knew who could nail a shot with that degree of precision at that angle. Bull’s body slumped in the chair, the relief knowing Aidan was near was almost too much to bear.
He winced at the pounding…at the door or in his head, he couldn’t tell anymore. Everything was blurring together too fast as the adrenaline evaporated from his body. The door pushed open and slammed against the back wall, sending another thump of pain through his throbbing head.
“Fuck!”
Yeah, that’s Aidan.
“I’ve got you,” his friend whispered in his ear as Aidan cradled his head. Footsteps filled the room, the rope binding his hands was pulled and cut while his friend remained steady at his side. With a hand gently placed over his ear, Aidan yelled out another command, the sound a little muffled and less piercing to Bull’s ear. “I need a medic in here!”
“Ben?” Bull asked, the words not sounding right to his ear.
“Don’t talk. You might make it worse. There’s a helo on its way. I couldn’t risk this asshole hearing it fly too close. You’re gonna be fine.”
Fine. He hated that word. And he sure as hell didn’t feel fine.
Through his blurring, fading vision, he noticed the medics entering the room wore battle fatigues. “I’ll text Ben as soon as we’re in the air. He got all barbaric on my ass when I told him he couldn’t come with me to get you.”
A spark of joy lit Bull’s body at the mention of Ben’s name and his protectiveness. It was the lifeline he needed.
“Don’t you dare die. I promised him I would bring you back. If you make me break that man’s heart, I swear, I’m going to have them bring you back just so I can kill you myself.”
A sound rumbled through Bull’s pained body. Maybe a laugh. Nothing felt or sounded right. In himself or the unexpected fear he sensed in Aidan’s tone.
Between the two medics and Aidan, they raised his limp body off the chair and onto the gurney, strapping him to the frame and bracing his head and neck.
He couldn’t speak or move. With the little give he had in the restraints, he reached for Aidan’s hand and squeezed as much as he could.
That hazel stare immediately met his gaze. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He leaned in closer, those hazel eyes piercing deep into Bull’s stubborn mind. “Fight. Be that stubborn control freak I know you can be. Because Ben is waiting for you.”
Bull closed his eyes and willed his mind to fill with images of Ben—that beaming smile, those striking green eyes filled with life and happiness.
Every vision shot another thump to his heart, breathing life into his body.
He had survived this hell. He damn sure wouldn’t quit now.
Finally knowing he would keep his promise, Bull relaxed. Or maybe it was the tiny prick of a needle at his arm that eased the tension stiffening his body.
Peace settled in him as images of life and joy filled his head and blackness took over.
Thump, thump.
The steady pulse under his palm was enough to keep Ben sane.
Barely.
Thump, thump.
He had occasionally nodded off during the last five days in the hospital, stealing a few minutes of sleep here and there. He was likely sleep deprived. That would explain his shaking hands and the skip of his own heartbeat.
The nursing team had even set up a chair for him. Then again, he hadn’t left them with much of a choice. Gabriel was right. The word no was powerful. After shaking his head and stomping his foot each and every time the nurses tri
ed pulling him away, they had negotiated a truce. The nurses would stop arguing with him as long as he ate something. He could do that. He would do anything—except leave—as long as Gabriel came back to him.
Thump, thump.
He would stay awake however long was needed. Gabriel had to pull through. He had to. The doctors had said it was up to him now, and Aidan had insisted Gabriel was too stubborn to give in.
Natalie and their father visited often, but Natalie needed to stay busy to keep the worry at bay. Thankfully, she didn’t complain about manning the store on her own. Rachel refused to leave the hospital for lengthy stretches of time, but she couldn’t be in the room.
Ben understood. Seeing Gabriel this vulnerable was unbearable.
Most times, Ben refused to leave Gabriel’s side. He had to be near. He had to rest his palm against the side of Gabriel’s neck and feel his pulse. Each thump against his palm was the proof of life he needed to stay hopeful. Other times—like now—he squeezed into the small space next to Gabriel on the hospital bed.
He pushed his nose closer to Gabriel’s neck, seeking the warmth that always radiated from his body like a personal heater. It took every prayer and ounce of strength buried deep in his heart to remain steady…strong. The way he knew Gabriel wanted him to be.
Thump, thump, thump.
Ben gasped.
He jerked back. With his palm pressed against the side of Gabriel’s neck, he watched for a twitch or shift in his sleeping form. Ben slowly sat up on the bed, never breaking visual contact or moving his hand from the side of Gabriel’s neck, waiting for another skip in his pulse.
Thump, thump…thump.
Hope was a fickle thing. Maybe he was hallucinating. The doctors had weaned Gabriel off the meds and had said he would ease out of the coma when his body was ready. As if the bandages on his face and around his torso and wrists weren’t enough, Gabriel had required surgery to a broken knee and jaw. He was being held together with more metal, braces, stitches, and taped gauze than Ben thought he would ever see on a single person.