Chapter 7

By the timeI jerked my SUV to a jarring stop in front of my house, I was on the verge of passing out. I'd popped two more pain pills in the final hour of the drive and while they'd taken the edge off, they'd done nothing to keep me focused on the road.

Surprisingly, though, it hadn't been the fire screaming up my spine that had pushed me over that edge.

It had been the young man next to me.

Even now I could still taste the lushness of his lips. I could feel the inexperienced way they'd moved beneath mine. I could hear the whimpers spilling from his throat as he'd tried to figure out how to kiss me back.

I wanted to laugh at the irony of it. In the space of a day, the injuries that had plagued me from the moment I'd been discharged from the VA had taken a back seat to the unwanted and very unwelcome emotions that had exploded in my chest when I'd sealed my mouth over Silver's. I couldn't even lie to myself and pretend I'd only kissed him to prevent him from going with the trucker.

Whatever my motive had been for kissing Silver—and truth be told, deep down I already knew it was because I'd wantedto kiss him—it had left me reeling and relieved. When I'd first picked Silver up, my whole goal had been to get rid of him as quickly as I could, preferably returning him to Jace's care, but Silver's defiance and strength had made me do something I never would have done under normal circumstances. And while I hadn't kissed him to prevent him from going with the trucker, because I'd forgotten all about that asshole as soon as Silver's gorgeous eyes had exposed emotions he'd probably never felt in his life, the relief that he was once again sitting next to me in my car was palpable. My fury was still there too, though, because even now I wanted to commit murder as I thought about the things that fucker would have done to Silver. Hell, if I was being honest with myself, I knew I wouldn't have let the young man get in the cab of that semi, even if kissing him had completely derailed my intentions.

My current problem, though, was that all the fire that was consuming me wasn't just a mixture of pain and lust. It felt primal, animalistic. I wanted to put my stamp of ownership on Silver. At the same time, I wanted to get as far away from him as I could.

I'd fucked more men than I could count from the moment I'd lost my virginity to an older yet very submissive guy when I'd been eighteen and on leave while stationed overseas. I'd loved every moment of it. Even though it had taken place in a shitty bathroom stall of a busy club with the man bent over in front of me, his hands splayed on the wall and his screams of pleasure ringing through the crowded bathroom for all the world to hear, none of that had mattered to me. For the first time in my life, I'd been in complete and utter control.

There'd been no chance of the guy leaving me behind, no looks of disappointment, no cruel words… nothing. After that, I'd let guys blow me in alleys behind clubs, I'd fucked a few cadets in my own unit who'd made it clear they played for my team, and I'd taken advantage of any guy with a fuckable ass who'd been seeking the same few moments of blissful, albeit temporary, peace as me. One thing never changed, though—no matter what the circumstances had been.

I walked away first.

I was always the one to walk away first.

And then, just like that, it had all been over. Pleasure had been replaced with pain, excitement about the future had turned into nothingness, and waking up every morning raring to go on whatever project or mission was planned for that day had been replaced with that one split second when I forgot.

Forgot that I'd be facing another long day of pain and bitterness. There'd be no more dangerous missions to execute to keep my country safe, no guys to fuck, and no brothers-in-arms to reminisce with.

Luckily, that last part hadn't been much of an issue since I'd rarely left my house to begin with. I'd spent nearly every cent of the savings I'd had at the time to buy the twenty-five acres of land that included what could barely be called a small two-bedroom house with a large shed that could have been swept over by a stiff wind. But the crowning glory of the place I'd finally come to truly accept as mine was the little gem of a boat that had come with the property. The boat, which actually wasn't all that small, may not have been much to look at but the cabin cruiser had been and still was my saving grace. In short, I didn't have to worry about nosy neighbors showing up on my doorstep unannounced and even if they did, the boat provided me with a quick escape as well as the only true peace I'd ever really had.

And now I'd brought a stranger into my sanctuary.

A young man I knew next to nothing about.

A young man who kissed like a dream and deserved a man who knew how lucky he was to wake up next to Silver every morning and fall asleep with him wrapped in his arms every night.

A young man I'd agreed to "pay" for the pleasure of his company for an entire night.

God, the things I could show him.

The things he could do to me…

"Fuck," I grumbled under my breath as I shuffled to the porch steps. Steps were a particular enemy of mine but at the moment I was kind of grateful for them because not only did they require all of my focus, they eliminated all thoughts of pleasure as the pain once again took hold.

"Do you need help?" I heard someone ask from behind me.

Yes.

"No," I snapped.

Despite my protest, which would have been enough to stop most men from coming anywhere near me, a slim but strong arm went around my waist. Silver took advantage of my surprise and ducked his head under my arm so that he was bracing my left side.

"I don't need?—"

"Yeah, I heard you," Silver returned, his voice even and patient. I could have pushed him away, but the reality was that his support meant that there was less strain on my back as I lifted my right foot.

Humiliation swamped my entire system and by the time we reached the top steps, I just wanted to crawl into my bed and hide my shame in pills and alcohol.

"I'm fine," I growled as I extricated my body from Silver's.

I didn't look at him because I told myself I didn't give a shit if I'd hurt his feelings or whatever. Let him go wander off somewhere and lick his wounds. That would definitely make my life easier.

I began to fish the house keys out of my jacket pocket, but I was amazed to see that they were already in Silver's hand, and he was working the lock on the ratty-looking front door. By the time I reached it, he had it wide open. I ignored the need to rip him a new one for basically picking my pocket and instead focused every ounce of strength I had left on getting my feet over the threshold. I wanted to cry because my bedroom still seemed like it was miles away, but then Silver's arm was around my waist again.

"We're almost there, Dalton," he said softly. "Just focus on the sound of my voice, okay?"

So that was what I did. I had no clue what he was actually saying, but the lyrical notes in his voice fascinated me and I clung to them just like Silver had told me to. Moments later, I was crossing the threshold of my bedroom.

I didn't complain when Silver eased me on the bed and began working my shoes off. Instead, I reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting on my nightstand and took several healthy swigs. Next, I snagged the bottle of pills that were calling my name and offering me the peace I was so desperate for. I dumped enough pills in my hand to fill the smallest part of my palm, but I didn't bother counting them before I threw them down my throat and chased them with another swig of whiskey.

The alcohol warmed my body, but I knew it would be a little while before the oxycontin did its job. For my trip to Vermont, I'd only allowed myself to take a different, milder painkiller. But oxycontin was my saving grace. As more and more warmth filled my body, I was only slightly aware that Silver was talking to me. His voice sounded muffled, but I did my best to listen.

"Lift up," he ordered.

I wasn't sure what he wanted me to lift but when he tugged at my jeans, I had my answer. I should have told him I'd be fine with the pants on but something inside me had me following his order.

The drugs, probably.

It was too soon for them to be taking effect, so it was probably the alcohol. With that thought in my mind, I took another long drag of the amber-colored liquid before setting the bottle on the nightstand.

After the jeans were gone, my shirt was next. The whiskey had dulled my senses but not enough to ignore things like Silver's fingertips grazing my shoulders or his neck pressing against mine as he leaned into to me so he could slide the button-down shirt off my back.

"Smell good," I heard myself whisper under my breath. Thankfully, Silver didn't hear me because he didn't respond in any kind of way.

"Lie down on your stomach." If Silver's hands hadn't been urging me to do just that, I would have thought the drugs had finally started to kick in and I was hearing things. But no, Silver's warm hands gently eased me so that I was lying face down on the bed. I expected him to leave at that point, and I wanted to tell him to take the money I'd promised him from my wallet and go, but he surprised me again when his fully clothed body straddled my ass.

My ass that only had the benefit of thin boxer shorts between it and Silver.

"Wha—?" was all I managed to get out.

The next thing I knew, Silver was leaning over my back, but he didn't put any weight on it, which I was supremely grateful for. I felt his whisper-soft breath against my ear. "Do you trust me, Dalton?"

"Yes," I said without even thinking about it. It had to be the drugs talking because I shouldn't be trusting anyone to be sitting on my nearly naked ass while I was in a drunken stupor.

I had no idea what to expect and part of me didn't care because the pain pills had started to kick in. It wouldn't be long before I'd escape the pain entirely. Despite not knowing what was coming, I jumped when Silver's hands covered my shoulders.

I swore I heard the younger man shush me like I was nothing more than an agitated toddler, but a few seconds later, I didn't care because Silver's fingers gently pressed into my skin. He continued the moves over and over and eventually began to roll his thumbs along the back of my neck.

He was massaging me.

It felt like heaven… and hell.

While his moves made my muscles tighten in pain, I could also feel them ultimately relaxing every time he repeated the move.

By the time his fingers left my shoulders and began to work on my back, I warned, "Silver."

"Just trust me, Dalton."

My body began to feel heavy, and I wasn't sure if I answered him or not. I tried to keep my attention on Silver's fingers as he massaged the muscles running alongside my body, but it wasn't long before I lost track of his touch entirely and let myself fall into the lovely darkness of sleep.

"Copy that,"I whispered, knowing that the communication device attached to my ear would pick up my hushed words. My head was pounding and my stomach began its familiar cramping as I used my scope to track the target.

"Command is a go," I said softly to Jace. I began calling out all the information he'd need to make the shot from his high-powered rifle. It would ultimately be his decision when to pull the trigger, but I knew he was reliant on the data I was feeding him, so my part in the mission was far from over.

Sweat dripped down my face as I kept my eye on the target. I knew the fact that the man was holding a young child in his arms would have no impact on our orders. Jace would do everything he could to miss hitting the kid, but the men we were sent to take down often used their kids or wives as shields from sniper attacks.

Such was the case today. We'd already been tracking the target for nearly half an hour, so between the camouflage that covered our bodies and the hot sun, we'd need to take the shot now or scrap the mission.

I was lying close enough to Jace on the rocky ground to hear him softly exhale. The action had me holding my own breath because I knew what was coming next. The blast of the gun wasn't overtly loud as the bullet left the rifle's chamber, but it may as well have been a cannon going off next to me. Jace and I held our positions only long enough to see if the bullet hit its mark.

"Thank fuck," I heard Jace whisper as the target's head exploded in a volley of blood and brain matter.

I quickly updated command via the communication device. Our mission had been a success, but it wasn't the image of the man's head exploding in front of several women and children that was stuck in my mind as Jace and I scrambled to gather our equipment and stealthily make our way to the extraction point where a helicopter would be waiting to pick us up.

No, all I could see was the crying child covered in blood in the man's arms fall to the ground as his dead father's lifeless arms released him.

And then the screams.

They never stopped.

They never stopped…

"Dalton!" I heard someone shout. The voice was both familiar and not.

"Dalton, wake up!" Strong fingers wrapped around my forearm as the words were spoken. Within a matter of seconds, I had my assailant on the floor and that same forearm was now pressing against the windpipe of my attacker. He scrambled beneath me, but he was too small to put up any kind of real fight. I could have simply shifted my body so I could use my hands to snap his neck or my fingers to strangle him but since he couldn't fight back, I kept the pressure of my forearm on his neck and waited for him to take his last breath.

It was a move I'd done endlessly in whatever war zone I'd been deployed to, and while I knew countless ways to take a man's life without the benefit of a weapon, a secret shame always crawled through me as the men struggled to survive.

I never looked them in the eye.

I wasn't man enough to look my prey in the eye as I took their life. I had no idea why and it didn't matter. It wasn't something any of the other guys in my unit had ever commented on and I doubted they'd even noticed. Everyone's experience with taking a man's life was both the same and different. We'd all been trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat, but I suspected not one soldier experienced the exact same thing as he watched or listened to or felt another human being's life being taken from them.

"Dalton."

My name came out in the tiniest of whispers and it was more of a wheeze than anything else.

How the fuck did he know my name?

It didn't matter. I had to complete the mission.

But I was in no way prepared for the feel of soft fingertips caressing my chin and gently urging me to turn my head. It was so unexpected that I actually did it. I turned my head.

The expected grease marks on his face to match his skin to the camouflage uniform he was wearing weren't there. I saw only different shades of black, blue, and green marring his pale skin.

And his eyes… his beautiful nearly clear eyes that almost looked silv?—

Reality hit me hard enough to have me scrambling backward until I hit the hard wooden leg of the bed. I watched in horror as Silver's hands went to his throat and he began coughing as he tried to pull in one breath after another.

I knew I should do something, but my muddled mind couldn't fully process what had just happened.

Not to mention that I wasn't the only one who'd put some distance between us… or at least tried to. Silver was scrambling backward on the hard floor.

"Silver—"

That was all I got out before Silver held his palm up in a defensive position. That finally got my ass moving. I climbed to my feet, pulled on a pair of sweats hanging over the foot of my bed, and hurried to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. By the time I returned to my bedroom, Silver was huddled up in a ball against my nightstand. He wasn't crying and he didn't try to stop me as I crouched before him. He was still wheezing and struggling to breathe. Shame consumed me as I saw the bruises already starting to form on his neck.

Silver was trembling violently, so I quickly grabbed my comforter and eased it over his body. I doubted his tremors had anything to do with being cold, but that would come when the shock of what I'd done to him began to wear off.

"Jesus, fuck, Silver. I'm so sorry—" I began but stopped when I realized he didn't need apologies right now. He needed physical help.

"Can you try to drink some of this water for me?" I asked as I handed him the cup. He shook his head and pushed it away. I set it down and then sat cross-legged in front of him. My own adrenaline was wearing off, which meant pain was beginning to consume my body but amazingly enough, I barely noticed… or cared.

"Silver, I need to look at your neck to see if I did any kind of damage that means I need to take you to a hospital."

I suspected the suggestion of taking him to a hospital was the only thing that had him carefully turning so he was facing me. He'd grabbed my comforter and drawn it up to his neck. As he lowered it a bit, I realized he was wearing my sweats again. I liked knowing that, but I also didn't.

"Fuck, focus, Dalton," I said under my breath as I carefully reached my fingers out to examine Silver's injury. The fact that I'd added to the many black and blue marks on his face made me want to put my fist through a wall.

Not surprisingly, Silver pulled away from me until his head hit the wall behind him and he was forced to hold still as I quickly checked to see if I'd broken his hyoid bone.

"Can you swallow for me?" I asked. I wasn't feeling any swelling, but a doctor was far more equipped to make the call when it came to how much damage I'd done.

It took Silver several long seconds to swallow. I kept feeling around his throat to see how tender it was and asked, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad did swallowing hurt?"

Silver hesitated and shook his head as his eyes filled with confusion.

I felt foolish as I realized he might not know what a pain scale was.

"With the number one meaning no pain at all and ten meaning it's the worst pain you've ever felt, what number would you give the pain? You can pick any number in between. For example, a five would be right in the middle of no pain and worst pain ever—" I began before Silver held up four fingers. His breathing seemed to be coming easier to him but there was no denying the angry red mark forming on his neck. The low number surprised me. Either he was lying, or he'd experienced a shit ton of pain in his life. Part of me hoped that even as I'd been caught up in the nightmare, my gut had somehow known who Silver was and I hadn't used as much pressure on him as I would have with a real enemy.

"Would you come with me to the kitchen so I can put some ice on your neck? It will help with the pain and swelling," I explained as I stood.

Silver nodded but refused to take the hand I held out for him.

I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't want to have anything to do with me either.