Chapter 8

“Hey, Connor.”

Connor jumped at Lucas’s voice, and gave a silent groan. He wanted to get his things and go home to find Wesley. By the time he’d reached the club, Wesley had already left. He wanted, needed, to get to Wesley. Nothing more, nothing less. And now this. For an instant, he forgot that Lucas was his friend, not only his boss.

Connor pushed the locker door closed, biding his time before having to face Lucas. When he couldn’t put it off any longer without raising suspicions, he turned and faced him. “Hey, Lucas.”

They shook hands, the touch brief but familiar.

“Did you want something?” The question came out much harsher than Connor had intended.

Lucas’s eyebrows shot to the sky. He recovered quickly, emotions gone from his face. “I wanted to take you out for a beer or something, but if this is a bad time…”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sorry. I was distracted.” Connor tried to downplay his earlier outburst.

Lucas waved it away, but his eyes narrowed, watching Connor carefully.

Connor met his stare head-on, but he had to force himself to keep his gaze steady. “A beer sounds good.” And to Connor’s surprise, it did.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Clutching his jacket, Connor followed Lucas as he led the way to a cozy little place close to The Dungeon. They sat at the bar and placed their orders.

“What’s going on with you?”

Connor gaped at Lucas.

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

“Did Wesley come to you to complain?”

“Wesley didn’t tell me anything, and thinking he would doesn’t do him justice.”

Shame stabbed at Connor, and he couldn’t look at Lucas. Maybe it wasn’t Wesley’s fault after all. Maybe it was him.

“Just so you know, it has nothing to do with Wesley. I’ve been watching you for weeks now. Something is wrong. I want you to tell me what it is.”

“Is this the boss or the friend talking?”

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. “I invited you as a friend, but I’m starting to think the boss should make an appearance as well.”

“No. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Come on. Tell me.”

Two draft beers were placed in front of them, and Connor wrapped his palms around his glass, happy for the distraction. Two long gulps later, Connor found himself ready to talk.

“You’re right. Something is wrong.”

“Is that why Wesley spent the night at The Dungeon?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem, if I may ask?”

“I’m not sure. He started saying I’m keeping things from him.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“What about Matthew?”

Connor frowned, confused. “Matthew? What does he have to do with anything? He’s just a client.”

“Yet, he has disturbed you.”

“Yes.” Once the admission was out, he felt relieved. It felt good to say it out loud.

“Why didn’t you come to me if you had a problem with it?”

“I didn’t realize I did.”

“What happened?”

“I started thinking of Alin, making comparisons between them.” He shrugged. “It became so real at times.”

“And you took it out on Wesley.”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve seen this before.”

“How does it turn out?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not you talk to your partner about it.”

 

***

 

Connor had stopped at one beer and headed home. He wanted to keep his head clear.

On the doorstep, he hesitated, his hand on the handle. The house was quiet, but the dim light in the bedroom window had to be coming from one of the bedside lamps.

As he walked in, Connor was afraid. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt that way, but the thought of losing Wesley terrified him. He climbed the stairs and paused in front of the bedroom door. He gave a little knock, his heart in his throat.

The moment before Wesley’s response felt like an eternity.

“Come in.”

Connor entered, his gaze flying straight to the man on the bed.

Wesley was lying beneath the comforter, a thick book in his hand. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his cheeks held signs of fatigue. The most daunting thing, though, was the haunted look in Wesley’s eyes, and Connor couldn’t help thinking it was him who had put it there. He wanted to run to Wesley, drop to his knees, and beg for forgiveness, but he didn’t know if he would be welcome.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Wesley put down the book and pushed himself into a sitting position. Still, the weariness remained.

“You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

Connor cringed at the surprise he heard in Wesley’s voice. “For a moment there, I feared you might have moved out. Or changed the locks on me.”

Wesley shook his head. “This is our home. Our.”

Connor glanced around, guilt eating away at him.

“How was your shift?”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Connor’s lips. He appreciated the small talk Wesley trying to make, but he couldn’t bring himself to contribute. Not when his stomach was clenching with fear.

“I’m sorry.”

Wesley paused. “What for?”

“For everything.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Steel replaced the weariness in Wesley’s eyes.

Connor walked up to the bed and sat on the floor at Wesley’s side. “For pushing you away. For hurting you.”

“Keep going.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

Connor nodded, too paralyzed to speak.

“What happened?”

At Connor’s hesitation, Wesley ground his teeth together, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have done the scenes with Matthew. It brought back memories of Alin.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Alin? No.”

“Then what happened?”

“It’s hard to explain. It made me go on the defensive about everything. Then I came home and found you waiting for me, dressed in that leather harness.”

“So, it’s my fault?”

“No!” To enhance the message, Connor shook his head. “Absolutely not.” He took Wesley’s hand in his own and placed it on his chest, above his heart. “I swear to you, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s all me. The memories overwhelmed me to the point where I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. And you took the brunt of it.”

Wesley remained silent, his gaze boring into Connor. “What do memories have to do with us?”

“I told you about Alin.” At Wesley’s curt nod, Connor continued. “There was something wrong with him. Something I missed about him. He started pushing me, asking for more than I was comfortable, or willing, to give. He pushed all my boundaries, and when I didn’t give in, he started seeking it elsewhere. Eventually, he got himself killed.”

Connor paused to gather his thoughts.

“He was the perfect sub. You know, except for the pushing me and ending up dying. He obeyed without a word, and he seemed to anticipate my every mood.”

Wesley winced, but didn’t comment.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m trying to explain what happened.”

“I understand.”

“I didn’t realize how much it had affected me. I thought I was over it.” At Wesley’s silent protest, Connor raised his hand to stop him. “No, I told you, I am over him. But what I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t over what he had done.

“When I had that scene with Matthew, he was like Alin: the perfect sub. He reacted flawlessly to my every command, and I saw no hint of instability in him. Unlike with Alin, I knew I could push as hard as I wanted with Matthew, without fear of going too far. So, I pushed and pushed. I wanted to hurt him. A lot. And he took it.”

During Connor’s explanation, Wesley’s brow furrowed in concern. “I didn’t realize that was something you wanted.”

“It’s not. I’d never liked it before Alin, and I didn’t like it after him. But something triggered me during that first scene with Matthew. It left me vulnerable.”

Wesley nodded.

“Then, when I came home, you were waiting for me. And you pushed me.”

Wesley jerked like he was struck. “No.”

“I understand that you didn’t try to force me into something I didn’t want. Now. But then, when I was still reeling from what had happened at The Dungeon, I couldn’t see that. I felt cornered, and I slipped back into the fears, and the memories of everything that had happened. And I wanted to hurt you, just as I had hurt Matthew. Not actual damage, but I wanted to see the pain I could inflict. How sick is that?”

Wesley’s caressing his cheek, releasing some of the tension he felt. “Not overly so. You’ve never hurt me. Not at your low, and for sure not at your best. Not even for a moment did I feel threatened.”

“That doesn’t excuse my behavior.”

“The only thing you need to apologize for is not telling me what was wrong.”

“You’re right.”

Wesley offered Connor a sweet smile, understanding shining on his face.

“I am more sorry for how I’ve behaved than I can put into words. I love you, and I will always hate myself for causing you pain. I should have realized what was happening and come to you and explained. But I didn’t.” Connor finally made himself meet Wesley’s eyes. “Will you forgive me? Can you? I know the trust has been broken, but I will spend my life making it up to you, if necessary. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“But?”

“No, no buts. I love you. Well, I guess there is a ‘but.’”

“I’m listening.”

“How do I know this is real? How can I trust you again?”

The words stung, but it wasn’t anything Connor hadn’t thought of himself.

“I know. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you. I realize it might not be possible, but I will spend my life trying to prove that I’m worthy of you, that you can count on me.”

Wesley regarded him carefully for the longest time, before reaching to the side and turning down the comforter. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”

Connor dry-swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

At first, Connor could only stare. A weight lifted from his shoulders, and the invisible vine squeezing his chest released, and he could finally breathe again.

“Thank you.”

Toeing off his shoes and shedding his clothing, Connor circled the bed. He climbed in slowly, still waiting for Wesley to change his mind. Wesley wrapped the comforter over him and settled by his side. Tentatively, Connor reached and wound his arms around Wesley, pulling him closer. With the barest hesitation, Wesley settled against him.

 

***

 

Beneath his cheek, Connor’s chest rose and fell in time with his steady breathing, but Wesley’s mind was racing.

He had hoped for Connor’s return. And now he was here, a whole new issue arose. He’d said he was over Alin. It was the second time Connor had assured Wesley of that. And yet, it clearly wasn’t so. Connor may not have been in love with his ex-anymore, but the damage the man had done to Connor’s mental state was lasting, and Wesley wasn’t sure he could undo it.

He wanted to hate that man for the torment he’d put Connor through, but all Wesley could feel for him was pity. He’d clearly been disturbed.

Letting the rhythm of Connor’s heartbeat lull him to sleep, Wesley closed his eyes and drifted off.