There were things he had to say. Did the kid know how much he loved him? Pressure and buzzing started in his head.
Did Rook know how much of his life revolved around him and how, if he died, Banner’s world would be unbearably lonely? There were other people, but Rook was the only one who could be his Rook. There was no other solemn, artistic soul who got him the way his brother got him. No one else who he understood so well.
Kate shook him. He’d been standing in the middle of the room, naked, not doing anything. It only took a second to get dressed. Kate pocketed his phone, then led him down the hall, asking where his car keys were. She found them in the jar by the door.
This was his fault. What had he missed? Rook had seemed happy at the art show. He’d smiled. Teased him. Lent him Dad’s watch.
The watch.
Late alarm bells went off in his head. He’d been happy that Rook seemed happy, but it was all wrong. That wasn’t the way Rook had been lately. And the watch—how had he missed that? Rook clung to the few memories he had of Dad. He never would have lent that watch so easily. He’d given it to him already knowing. At the art gallery he’d already had a plan.
Ambrose came down, bits of lint and bed fuzz stuck in his short hair, then Konstanin right afterward. Kate spoke to them. Urgency pierced through his fog. He grabbed the keys from Kate’s hand and ran to his car. He fumbled. The car door wouldn’t open.
Konstantin reached him first. He took the keys and opened the car doors, then shoved Banner into the backseat with Kate. Everyone was talking, but all he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it, but there were no messages.
His baby brother hadn’t even sent him a text to say good-bye.
***
The smell of the hospital made Banner dizzy. The yellow walls and orange chairs were probably supposed to be cheery, but it felt like the seventh circle of hell.
Meadow sat in the waiting room, her face pale and drawn. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her out of the house in a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. When she saw Banner she leapt to her feet, glaring.
“Did you know he was going to do this?” The accusation in her tone caught him off guard, and he just stared at her.
“If he’d known, he would have been there himself and warned the rest of you.” Ambrose patted her and she began to cry huge, gasping sobs. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t blame this on him.”
Banner went to his sister and pulled her into his arms. Some people would have been angry about the accusation, but Meadow was Meadow. She was quirky and not good with people, even on the best of days. They hadn’t been close for years, but the terrified way she hung on to him was reminiscent of when they were kids and had hid on the couch from imaginary floor sharks.
The room went quiet. He was glad no one bothered them with platitudes. No one knew if everything would be alright.
A woman coaxed a teenage boy into the waiting room. Dylan. The boy cried inconsolably. His entire frame trembled, and his teeth chattered. His mother was white with anxiety.
“How is he?” she asked as soon as she saw Banner.
He wished he knew what to tell her. They’d seen each other a lot over the past couple of years when they dropped the boys off at each other’s houses.
“We’re not sure. They let our mom in, but she’s been in there a long time.” Meadow sobbed and turned her face away from Banner’s shirt, but he didn’t let her go.
“Dylan, I have to thank you for calling the house.” Banner nodded to the boy. He wanted to comfort him, but he couldn’t let go of his sister. “Meadow said if you hadn’t called, it would have been too late. How did you know?”
Dylan wiped his face on his sleeve. He almost didn’t look like himself, he was so puffy and red.
“We were texting.” His voice cracked, and he drew a shuddering breath. “He didn’t seem right, and he said some weird things, you know? Then he said good night, and I went to bed. But then I got all creeped out and texted him to see if he was okay. He wouldn’t answer. He never turns off his fucking phone.” A deep, desperate sob escaped him. “Never. I kept trying to get him to answer me, and I thought maybe he was just really sound asleep, but then I got scared.”
“What kind of things was he saying?” Meadow asked.
Dylan looked at his mother.
“I already know, Dylan. It’s okay.” She brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes. “You didn’t seem to want to talk about it, but we’ve known since you were little. Why do you think sleepovers are in the living room?”
He stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head. “You knew? But I’ve always been so careful. Oh God. You knew, and this was all for nothing!”
“Was it the idiots at school?” It had to be. Nothing else in Rook’s life had seemed that bad.
Dylan nodded. “They’ve been threatening . . .” He trailed off, eyeing Kate, Ambrose, Konstantin, Meadow.
“To do what? Hurt him?” Meadow pressed. She tensed in Banner’s arms and looked as if she were ready to march over to the school and wait for the bullies on the front step. With a bat.
“No,” Banner disagreed, wondering how much Meadow knew.
“To out him?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck sakes! To who? Who doesn’t know?”
“Mom? I don’t know. Other kids at school?” Banner shook his head in confusion.
Meadow pulled on her hair in exasperation. “Fuck! Mom knows. She’s the one who told me, like, five years ago. Like it was supposed to be a big surprise?”
“No, no.” Dylan shook his head. “They were threatening to tell my parents. One of them has a picture of us . . .”
“A picture?” Dylan’s mother went paler. “Of what, exactly?”
“Us kissing.” Dylan pulled away from his mother and sat in one of the orange plastic chairs. “The kid said he was going to text it to Dad. Last night Rook kept saying he was ruining my life.”
Dylan’s mother, who’d been dabbing at her eyes on and off, started to cry. “This is our fault, then. If we weren’t so worried about messing up the conversation, we wouldn’t have procrastinated. This never crossed our minds.”
The adults in the room reassured her, but she didn’t look convinced.
They waited. Kate was there for him, holding his hand. Her quiet strength kept him from falling apart.
Eventually, Konstantin got to his feet. “Does anyone want anything? I’m going to see if the cafeteria is open. I need coffee.”
“Do you want to drive Kate home? She’s probably exhausted.” Banner looked over at her, sorry she’d been dragged into something so traumatic. Her hair was mussed, and her dress was rumpled, but she was more beautiful than ever.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He thought of insisting she go, just to be polite, but he didn’t want her to leave.
They settled in. Kate was true to her word.
***
The waxy look of Rook’s skin made Banner want to vomit. The IV in his arm and the neat way the hospital sheets were tucked around him gave the whole tableau a surreal feeling—as though he’d just walked onto the set of a bad television hospital drama.
The boy’s eyes flutter open. He looks close to death, small and pale in the bed, like a bundle of sticks. Cue emotional outburst from older brother.
“Hey.” Banner squeezed Rook’s hand.
Either Rook hadn’t heard him, or he was still as out of it as he’d been last time it was Banner’s turn to come in. The doctor had said they’d got him to the hospital before there’d been any serious damage, but the tension in Banner’s gut wouldn’t dissipate.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t worry about apologizing.”
“No, it’s not okay.” The thinness of Rook’s voice tore at Banner. Tears gathered at the corners of the boy’s eyes and gradually spilled over.
Banner wiped at them with his hand, then looked around for a box o
f tissues. They were the miniscule square ones made from the sandpaper reject pile, so he used the edge of the sheet to dry Rook’s face instead.
“I tried to make myself throw up right after I did it, but I didn’t know how. The finger thing didn’t work.”
For some reason, that was a partial relief. Maybe he’d never do it again. They’d have to be careful and watch him.
“If you had died, I would have strangled you.” Banner wiped his own wet face with the hem of his T-shirt.
Rook squeezed his hand. “I know. I thought of how mad you would be, but only when it was too late. At the time, I kept thinking it would make your life easier.”
All of Banner’s manly reserve gave out. He carefully crushed the boy to him, as if holding him close would erase the past few hours. “If you ever think that again, just call me instead of trying to guess. You’re my best friend, jerkface. Who would I talk to about the meaning of the universe, and art, and our crazy family, and my problems with women if you ditched me?” He bumped Rook’s forehead with his own.
Banner got onto Rook’s bed and laid beside him. They stared at the ceiling in silence. He didn’t know what to say. But more than that, he was afraid of saying the wrong things.
Rook spoke first. “Meadow said you brought a date.”
“I did.” Banner grimaced. “I probably owe her a real date after this.”
“No shit. I’m sorry if I ruined things with her.” There was an edge of despondence in his voice, but he covered it with teasing. “Is this the one you’ve been whining about for months?”
“Yeah.” He thought about Kate sitting in the other room, and anticipation spread through him. Was she actually interested in their relationship being long term?
Hopefully, this hadn’t scared her off, but Rook came first in his life, and she needed to know that.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted. I should have figured out what was going on with you without having to be told.”
“You’re my brother, not a mind reader, my keeper, or my therapist.” Rook was quiet for a while, as though he’d dozed off. Banner was surprised when he spoke again. “Mom seems different today.”
“I think you woke her up.”
“Maybe. We’ll see if it sticks.” Rook stared down the bed at their legs, side by side. Banner knew it used to bother Rook that he was so small compared to himself. He hoped he wasn’t dwelling on something that silly now.
He could feel himself dozing off, the lack of sleep and the ebbing of adrenaline finally hitting him.
“Banner?”
He startled awake.
“What?”
“I know this is a weird time to mention it, but don’t wear leather pants. They make you look like a moron.”
Chapter 19
Walking into Banner’s house felt as though she were coming home after a long day of work. As Kate stepped into the foyer, it overwhelmed her with memories and comfort. It smelled like him.
The door shut behind them, and she spun to face Banner. His eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t said much more than a few words on the ride home. He looked exhausted.
Her nerves were fried too. So many emotions swirled in her head, making her brain hurt. No amount of professional distance could keep her safe from the onslaught of emotions that had been in that waiting room. This wasn’t a client, this was the man she loved. He was her first priority.
“Thank you,” he rasped. “For everything tonight. I know it wasn’t pleasant for you, but I’m glad you were with me.”
She hadn’t done anything, really. The whole ordeal had been a family thing, so she’d kept her head down and stayed out of the way. She’d brought coffee and food to anyone who looked as though they needed it and sat next to Banner while he waited for his next turn to see his brother. Konstantin and Ambrose had seemed better equipped to help him through this, and they at least had some relationship with his family. But he’d still held on to her as if he were drowning.
“Anyone would’ve done the same,” she mumbled.
He nodded sadly. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
“No.” On the ride back, she’d already resolved to stay over with him. He needed comfort, not alone time. She wouldn’t push him to talk, but if he wanted to, she’d be there for him. “I’m too tired to drive home. Can I stay here?”
She hoped that by appealing to his protective side, he’d let her stay, and then she’d be there for him when he was ready.
His forehead crinkled as if he were surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We’ve had a long night.” She started toward his bedroom. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”
He chuckled. “Are you going to read me a bedtime story too?”
So he wasn’t so distraught he’d lost his sense of humor. That was good. Rook wasn’t the only one at risk. This opened a deep wound in the whole family. They all needed to watch out for one another.
They made their way to his bedroom, and he shed his clothes once inside. Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to intrude if he needed space, and she hadn’t processed what had happened just before the hospital call. They’d had a night of amazing sex, and there seemed to be some understanding that they were together, but where did they stand now? She didn’t want to be presumptuous by getting into bed with him. Were they a couple? Was it just for sex?
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Banner collapsed onto the bed. When he looked at her, she said, “Do you want me to stay in the guest room?”
“What?” He pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed. “Get in here.”
That order, she would obey. She took off her dress, well aware of her nakedness, except for a pair of flimsy panties. But it wasn’t the time or place for sexy time. She got in and laid there awkwardly, wanting so badly to pull him into her arms and tell him everything would be okay.
Seeing him so destroyed tonight over his brother’s pain had stirred something in her—a fierce protectiveness so strong she’d had to fight back her own tears on the drive back from the hospital. His suffering broke her heart. Right now, all she wanted to do was to fix it. To make sure Banner knew he wasn’t alone, that he’d never be alone again if she had any say in the matter, and, more than anything, that he was loved.
Love. Her eyes welled with tears. He’d fought with Ambrose—over her. He wanted her. He’d said so. She was his. He’d said that, too, from what she could remember. Or had it been a dream?
Unable to help herself, she turned and curled her body around Banner. She imagined herself as a protective barrier, shielding him from the world, at least for now. He may have thought she was his, but he was just as much hers. And if he thought he was the only one with a protective side, he was dead wrong.
He was already sound asleep, his snores filling the stillness of the room.
Poor guy.
She hadn’t known much about his family before that night. Now that she’d experienced it firsthand, it was obvious why he was such a nurturer. From what she could tell, he’d taken care of his little brother for the last few years. His mother seemed as though she’d checked out, but her tears and worry might have been a turning point. His sister was . . . awkward and didn’t seem to read people well. Rook may have fared worse if it weren’t for Banner in his life.
She’d known Banner had a big heart, but now she understood the depths of it. He’d given so much of himself for his family. How was there anything left for him? No wonder he had trouble settling down with a girl. Even knowing he had family burdens and other priorities didn’t scare her.
And if he’d meant what he’d said earlier—that he loved her and wanted to keep her for himself as more than just as a kinky sex partner—she could accept the “slave” label and make things work.
What was a label, anyway, but a futile attempt to classify something so people could understand it? Some things weren’t meant to be labeled and classified. Some things were so deep and personal that t
hey couldn’t even be explained in words, never mind words other people outside the relationship could understand. D/s was like that.
Whether Banner wanted to call what they had Master/slave or Dom/sub or whatever, it didn’t matter. It was special, and it was theirs.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she kissed his shoulder, hoping he felt the love in his dreams. The next day would be an interesting one. She had to find a way to express all of this. Were there even enough words? Maybe the timing was wrong. After what had happened with Rook, the last thing Banner needed was more crap to think about.
It would kill her, but she’d hold it in for now. She’d gone this long without acknowledging it. Another few days wouldn’t matter.
***
Waking up was like fighting through quicksand. Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. Why was she so tired? The events of last night rushed through her mind, jolting her awake.
Crap.
Last night had been a shit storm. And now she had to help her . . . Master? Finally, she peeled her eyes open and took stock of her surroundings. Banner’s ceiling. Warmth cocooning her bare body. And there he was, staring down at her.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Rook is doing really well. Meadow just took over for my mother, and I need to be there at two.”
“Thank goodness.” He looked so relieved that it made her smile. She crinkled her nose. “How long have you been awake . . . and staring at me?”
He chuckled. “Not long. And you’re cute when you’re sleeping. Not my fault.”
Her heart fluttered as she stared up at his face—his beautiful face and bright eyes and gorgeous, kissable lips. How had she not fallen in love with that face sooner? Maybe she had only been fooling herself. But now she felt it so deep inside her, so deep in her bones, that she felt like swinging from the rafters and screaming it. It was impossible to ignore.
Instead, she sighed.
Not the time. Let him heal.
“I was expecting you to be long gone by now,” he said, resting his head on his arm.
“Hmm?”
“It seems to be your go-to move. When things get intense, you run.”
Finding Master Right Page 25