Chapter Sixteen

It was dark when Kolton translocated back to Simon’s house, his gift tucked under his arm, his apology ready on his tongue. He looked around the dark living room. He knew Simon was home – his hound told him so. But there were no lights on and a weird smell in the air. Kolton sniffed. It smelled like his bar at the casino did after a busy Saturday night.

“Simon?” Kolton put his gift on the coffee table – as a hellhound he could easily see in the dark. “Simon are you in here?”

“Ah, the prodigal returns.”

The words were Simon’s, but unlike the calm measured tones Simon usually used, this time the words slurred, and he sounded… angry? Kolton clicked his fingers, switching on the lights. “Simon?” In a million lifetimes, Kolton never imagined he’d see his buttoned-up mate, his totally always-got-his-shit-together mate, sprawled across the couch, surrounded by empty wine bottles, his clothes askew, his hair all over the place, and his expression surly.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” Seeing his mate in that condition was more shocking than anything Kolton had seen in his life, and he’d seen some hairy shit. Hurrying to Simon’s side, he perched on the seat next to his mate, picking up his slack hand. “Simon, what happened? Was someone rude to you at the casino? Are you hurt?”

“Was someone rude to me at the casino, he says. Someone rude?” Simon chuckled darkly. “Who would be rude to me? Who has the power to hurt me? Who would judge my character, find me lacking in every way, and then disappear on me for hours ?”

Shit. “All this is because I left?” Kolton studied his mate’s face, his gut aching more than before. “You’re angry with me?”

“I don’t get angry, remember?” Simon went to slap his chest with his free hand, but he still had a bottle in his grip. Kolton winced. “I’m the unfeeling robot, the perfect person, who gives the impression his life is clean, perfect, and so fucking wonderful. Isn’t that what you said? The one who drives his mate to leave him, just by being me.”

“I never said any of those things. I just…I just…I needed time to think. I felt like a failure after the morning we had at the casino.”

“Oh, great.” Simon struggled to sit up. “You felt like a failure, and when I try and help you, you turn around and try and make me feel the same way by leaving me when I’m mid-sentence. No way to get in touch with you, because you’d blocked the damn bond that was supposed to be so important to you, no way to follow you, because it’s not like you took a car. No, you just went poof and left. Poof.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” Simon said quickly. “I understand.” He squinted at the wine bottle in his hand. “Or maybe you understand my useful bottle, but one of us understands that we don’t float your boat, or rock your world, or whatever people say. No. No we don’t. What a joke. What a fucking joke.”

“Simon, I don’t understand what you mean. What joke?” Had Simon given up on him? That ache in Kolton’s stomach turned into a full scale pit of lead.

“You. Me. The joke. Do you know how hard I worked to be someone who could be respected in this world? Do you?”

Kolton shook his head.

“Ten years! Ten years since I was a quivering shell of a nothing, ten years, four months and twenty-seven days since I escaped a living breathing hell!” Simon’s voice started to rise, and Kolton’s hound whined deep in his head as his anxiety grew. “I had to learn to walk again after spending six months on my knees.” Simon rolled away from Kolton, falling onto the floor and kneeling on the carpet. “Is this how you want to see me, too? Are you going to chain my wings to the floor, hold me down, and fuck me with everything that comes to hand? Will that make me relatable to you?”

“FUCK NO!” Kolton’s hound threatened to burst free, wanting to comfort Simon more than anything else. But Kolton knew this was one of those times when he needed to use his words, like Lord Hades had advised. But Simon hadn’t finished.

“You asked me if you could save me. I saved myself. Do you hear me? I. Saved. Myself. And that’s not your fault. Don’t ever think that’s your fault. No part of my life back then was your fault. You weren’t around then. We hadn’t even met. You didn’t have to worry about me then, no one worried about me then, definitely not the he-who-will-not-be-named asshole who held me captive. But I saved me.”

Simon’s chest was getting a pounding from that damn wine bottle. “I saved me, and I learned to walk again, and I moved states, got another job, and I built my life back up, creating a persona people would respect, look up to, and maybe even care about, and do you want to know why I did that? Do you know why I did all that?”

“No.” Kolton’s tears blurred his eyesight. “Why did you do all that, my precious mate?”

“Because I was scared.” Simon rolled over on the carpet, still hugging that wine bottle. “Scared that people would know about the abuse I went through just by looking at me. I felt that I’d been marked in some way, that someone might look at me and they would just know, you know…I couldn’t let them know. I refused to let them see my shame. I was terrified people would know and treat me like a victim. I’m not a victim. I’m not!”

“I know you’re not.” Kolton was torn. Every instinct was telling him he needed to bundle his mate in his arms and chase that pain away for him. But Simon was talking, and Kolton had no idea if his touch would even be welcome.

“And now you hate me.” Simon’s sob broke Kolton’s heart. “I did my job too well, and now you hate the person I’ve become to the point where you left your fated mate. Left me at the dinner table like a blind date from hell. And I don’t know how to be any other way anymore. I’m going to be alone forever, and I don’t know what to do.”

Lord Hades was right, again. But Kolton wasn’t going to dwell on that. Pushing aside the coffee table, Kolton fell to the floor, crawling over to where Simon was curled in a fetal position around his wine bottle. “Here, let me take that,” he said softly, tugging the bottle out of Simon’s hand and setting it aside. Curling his hands under Simon’s shoulders, he tucked his mate against his chest. “Hold onto me instead. I’m not going anywhere.”

/~/~/~/~/

Simon couldn’t stop the tears from falling if his life depended on it. It was as if a giant dam that held back all his insecurities and his fears from his past had been breached, broken, crumbled into a million pieces, and all he had left to shed was tears.

Kolton’s shirt quickly dampened under his cheek, but somewhere in the dim part of his brain that was still lucid, Simon appreciated the sheer strength of the man’s grip. Kolton’s hold was sheltering him from the world, and through their bond, now open, he could feel the hound, too – concerned, caring, and willing to protect Simon, even from himself. Keeping him safe.

Safe enough to speak.

Just thinking about it was more sobering to Simon than a bucket of water to his face, but he had enough lucidity to know it was a good idea, and enough wine in his blood to give him the courage to do it. If not now…

“Can you click those clever fingers of yours, please, and turn out the light?” Even though his words were muffled by Kolton’s chest, Simon knew his hound would hear. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The light clicked off.