Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Present day

KC Hayles

Iwas sure Lucian had given my name out of habit and because I was still listed as his emergency contact, but Cam should’ve been here in the ambulance in my stead.

On the other hand, I’d seen our boy’s expression before we’d driven off. Cam was too distraught. And I couldn’t blame him. He and I had been on Lucian’s case for weeks; we’d warned him, we’d badgered, we’d pleaded with him.

“KC.”

“I’m right here, baby.” I squeezed Lucian’s foot as two EMTs worked on him. His voice was thick with anxiety and drowsiness, and it rattled the fuck out of me.

Lucian was supposed to be frustratingly composed.

I kept an eye on the instruments, and I swallowed hard as his blood pressure was revealed. Jesus Christ, 195/120—way higher than when his doctor began telling him to slow down.

I wasn’t a fan of fearmongering, but sometimes it was necessary in order to knock sense into stubborn idiot workaholics.

It’d started slowly last fall. He’d gone in for a checkup, and the doctor had recommended monitoring his blood pressure and cutting down on stress, salt, and sugar.

That’d resulted in absolutely no improvements. The opposite, rather.

In Lucian’s quest to hand over the reins of many of his clients at work, he’d had to work overtime, as well as train the adviser filling his shoes. And they were big shoes to fill. Multimillionaires and billionaires were whiny fuckers who demanded constant attention and advice, and none of them wanted Lucian to leave.

The next doctor’s appointment had been more straightforward. You have high blood pressure, Mr. Leroux. You need to eliminate stress factors and make lifestyle changes.

Our stubborn asshole of a man had all but waved it off. There was an arrogance to workaholics who believed they could postpone a treatment. “I’ll slow down very soon—I just have to do this and that…”

I needed a doctor who said he’d fucking die if he didn’t get his shit together.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a message from Cam.

I have your braces. Any updates?

Thank fuck. Getting out of the ambulance was going to be difficult. Up was easier than down, so I’d climbed in fairly easily. But jumping out? My knees were going to cave in. I’d have to find something to grab on to.

I eyed Lucian again. One of the EMTs was checking his eyes with a flashlight and asking him a bunch of questions, but they had to realize he was in no shape to provide answers. He was in pain, he was all but hyperventilating, and he kept screwing his eyes shut, balling his hands into fists, and twisting on the stretcher. He was uncomfortable and unable to lie still.

I suppressed an impatient sigh and texted Cam back with what little I’d picked up.

Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll let you know where to go as soon as I know more. The EMTs are logging his symptoms and blood pressure. I don’t know if they’ll perform an EKG here or if they’ll wait till we get to the ER. He’s nauseated, has blurry vision, and shortness of breath.

That was bad enough—I didn’t pile on the list. I didn’t bring up the chest pain again or mention the evident confusion, the visible anxiety, and the dizziness.

Moments later, we rolled into the ambulance bay of the hospital in Tysons.

Stress and worry spiked as I scanned the doors of the vehicle, and everything was suddenly happening quickly. I sucked in a breath and just pushed myself into action. I grabbed on to a handle, bent down quickly so I could support my weight with a hand on the floor, and I jumped out clumsily but effectively before hospital staff assisted with getting Lucian out.

My heart pounded, and I cursed my own weakness⁠—

“…needs a cane or a wheelchair,” Lucian slurred. “Fuckin’ get it for him!”

Christ. I ran a hand through my hair and registered the moment of confusion between the doctors and nurses surrounding the stretcher, and I had to swallow my pride and let them know I suffered from partial paralysis in both legs.

Thankfully, they acted swiftly and without questions, and within seconds, I had two crutches so I could keep up. I hurried after Lucian and his team of hospital staff. It wasn’t a long trek, but it felt like a fucking marathon.

In the triage area, they wheeled him in for an EKG, and they closed the blue curtain so I had to wait just outside. A nurse joined me shortly thereafter and asked if I could describe Lucian’s day leading up to the “episode.”

“He’s been in and out of meetings all day,” I replied, trying to peer through the two-inch-wide opening between two curtains. They were stripping Lucian of his shirt and attaching electrodes to his chest. Christ, it hurt to see. Everything fucking hurt. My legs were numbing and prickling uncomfortably, my heart wouldn’t calm down, my arms strained, and…this had nothing on seeing Lucian that way. “I doubt he’s been eating well. He’s lived in denial about his high blood pressure, and he acts like he can schedule his resting time for when it’s convenient.” I took a breath and did my best to organize my thoughts. “We, uh—we had friends over for dinner, and he was dismissive about a headache before they arrived. He’s experienced milder symptoms lately too. Dizziness, numbness and tingling, usually hands and arms, tension headaches, and chest pain.”

The nurse nodded along and asked some follow-ups. My phone vibrated with an incoming call, but I’d have to handle that later.

“Has he monitored his blood pressure regularly? Do you happen to recall if his readings have been higher than normal lately?”

“Uh…” I rested one of the crutches against a wall and rubbed my forehead. “I remember last week, something about…I wanna say 154/97…? That’s after a stressful day at work. But last night, it was higher—162/109, I think. I don’t know his morning readings.”

“Understood—”

“Is he having a heart attack?” I just had to ask.

“The EKG will let us know if anything’s happening right now, and then we’ll wait to see what the blood work reveals,” she responded. “Is he on any medication?”

I cleared my throat. “PrEP and…I don’t know if he’s actually taking them, but he was prescribed 500 milligrams of some sort of medication for high blood pressure a few weeks ago. I’m afraid I don’t remember if he’s supposed to take it once or twice a day—oh, and he took Aspirin while we waited for the ambulance.” That’d been Cam’s work. He’d said he’d read something about that.

Cam should really fucking be here. He was the one who knew every little thing about Lucian’s health.

* * *

I breathed a small breath of relief when I heard back from Santiago. He and his boy were keeping Noa company in the waiting room, and now I just needed to hear back from Cam.

I checked my conversation with him again, hoping to see the “read” sign at the bottom. He’d seen my initial update, when we’d still been in the ambulance, and he’d also seen my second to most recent text. I’d sent it right after Lucian’s EKG had revealed he was, thank fuck, not having a heart attack.

Now, some twenty minutes later, I would’ve thought I’d have received a pinch of relief from Cam too. Or confirmation he’d seen my third update.

I glanced up and down the corridor, almost wishing we could return to the triage area. At least there, I could be the rude fucker flagging down a nurse who crossed my path and demanding answers. We weren’t far; we’d gone through two sets of doors and down one corridor, but it felt like a world away. This part of the ER was quieter, and the doors were closed to each room. Actual rooms, not just bed slots with curtains.

Goddamn, I hated hospitals.

I eyed the three uncomfortable-looking chairs across the corridor and reckoned I was about five minutes away from being forced to sit down. So far, leaning against the wall with my new set of crutches worked, but I was already tired as shit from a long day.

Just perfect—I heard Lucian in my head. You need to rest, you stubborn fool.

You’re one to talk, dick.

Fuck it, I’d send Dean a message instead. He and Cam had arrived together, so fingers crossed they were with Santiago, Gael, and Noa.

Is Cam all right? He’s not responding to my texts. If you’re with him, please tell him to check his phone. Or let him know that a doctor is with Lucian right now. It’ll be a while before we get the results from the blood work, and I think the plan right now is to get him to calm down. The nurse told me I’d get to see him in a few minutes. That was about ten minutes ago.

I sent it off, then promptly opened my conversation with Noa and wrote him a new message.

Are you with Cam, baby? In case he or Santiago didn’t tell you, Lucian will recover from this. He’s not having a heart attack. Now he needs to rest a lot. I will come get you and Cam as soon as I can, hopefully within the hour. I love you. (Please get a snack from the vending machines. You haven’t had dinner yet.)

Just as I sent it, the door to the room where Lucian was opened, and I saw the doctor leaving.

My heart instantly drummed faster. Thankfully, I didn’t have to chase down answers; I was standing close enough—and probably had a sign on my forehead—because the doctor spotted me and simply knew.

“Mr. Hayles, I take it.”

I nodded. “Is he okay?”

She offered a quick, polite smile. “I can’t say anything with certainty until the blood work comes back, but judging by the symptoms—as I told Mr. Leroux—I hope he will listen to the warning bells.” She paused briefly. “You’re welcome to go in and see him. Just a fair warning, we gave him lorazepam intravenously to decrease his anxiety, and given how severe it appears to be, we’d like to keep him overnight. We’ll also test his blood again in a few hours. Tomorrow, he should make an appointment with his regular doctor to discuss a treatment program. If all this is stress-related, he needs to make lifestyle changes sooner rather than later.”

Didn’t I fucking know it.

She was about to say something else, when the nurse came out and said Lucian was calming down.

The nurse flicked me a quick look. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes.”

By then, maybe I’d need some goddamn lorazepam too.

After wrapping up my lovely chitchat with the doctor, I finally got to limp inside Lucian’s room, and the sight was as funny as it was tragic. Christ, it nearly broke my fucking heart. I was supposed to be the constant patient of our family. After my accident, the painful rehabilitation workouts, sessions with therapists and personal trainers, a couple bouts of depression, I was the head case, and Lucian was the ever-collected port in the storm.

He smiled drowsily from his bed, the corners of his mouth tugging at his…nine-o’clock shadow. Hair in complete disarray, shirt and pants replaced by a hospital gown and blanket…

“You fucking asshole.” I headed over to his bedside, unable to take my eyes off him, and rested the crutches against the nearest wall.

“I love you too,” he yawned. “I’m not…hypervent-ventilating anymore.”

They’d definitely given him the good stuff.

“That’s nice.” I dragged the chair closer before collapsing in it, and I leaned forward so I could reach his hand. “How’s the chest pain?”

He lifted his free hand and pinched his index finger and thumb together. “Slight twinge.” He smacked his lips, as if his mouth was dry. “Twinge is a funny word.”

My mouth twisted.

It was…indescribable, this whole scene. Seeing him like this, so…ruffled. For chrissakes, he’d started wearing suits in high school. When someone tried to tease him for it, calling him Baby CEO and Yuppie Boy, he’d calmly walked over to them, towering over most of them, and talked them to pieces. Lucian wasn’t a fighter; he was a debater, a salesman, and an adviser. He could talk a fish in the ocean into buying water.

I’d seen his mental strength waver maybe two or three times in all the years I’d known him. When his dad had died our senior year of high school, then right around the time he’d finally broken up with his ex and confessed he couldn’t stop thinking about Cam, all while…commitment suddenly scared the shit out of him, and…well, he didn’t look particularly strong right now.

I squeezed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Lucian, you gotta get your shit together. You gotta take this seriously.”

If we lost him, I wasn’t sure how any of us would cope.

He released a breath and shifted his gaze to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s possibly—possible…I have fucked up a little.”

A little?

Next time, it could be an actual heart attack.

Something came over him, and he closed his eyes. It looked as much like the effects of good drugs as it did like regret. His expression became pinched before it relaxed.

“Or I fucked up a lot,” he whispered, eyes remaining closed. “I thought I had more time.”

I suppressed a sigh and withdrew my hand; I had to rub my leg. It was spasming pretty bad.

“Where’s Cam?” he asked, opening his eyes. “Are you okay?” He blinked drowsily and struggled to concentrate.

I shook my head. “Can you focus on yourself for a second?” We had to make so many changes at home if we were going to get him to a stress-free place in life. “I wanna know why I’m here and not him.”

I could admit, I’d fussed over Lucian too. I was the worrywart Daddy who sometimes let his concern transfer to the other worrywart Dom of the house—and it’d been like that for years. But he could never relax. He worked too much, and when he eventually came home, he tended to bring work home with him—or find something else to stress over.

Since last fall, Cam had been the main reason Lucian wanted to semi-retire and become the “perfect Master” for his boy.

Cam had never asked for a perfect Master, though. He just wanted Lucian to be well. And present. Alive. Healthy. Happy.

What the fuck was even a perfect Master?

Lucian raked his teeth over his bottom lip, then yawned and threw a glance at the IV stand—as if he was annoyed by the medication that took away his anxiety. Or, in this case, slowed down his damn brain.

“I don’t want him to see me weak,” he admitted, slurring his speech a bit. “But I miss him. I wanna hold him.”

Fucking dumbass.

“Now you’re as stupid as I was when I didn’t want Noa to help me with my training,” I told him.

He winced and rubbed absently over his chest.

This couldn’t go on.

I cleared my throat and stretched out my right leg. “I’ll tell you what you told me then. RACK goes both ways. We can’t be aware of all the risks in kink if the boys don’t tell us everything—and that’s a two-way street. If we shut them out when we feel down—weak or whatever—it’ll chip away at their trust in us.”

Lucian blew out a breath. Every time he blinked, his eyelids looked a little heavier than before.

“I sound smart,” he muttered.

“You have your moments.” My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I hurriedly pulled it out. Fuck, it wasn’t Cam. But it was Noa.

I’m glad it’s not a heart attack. Is it my fault? Is it because I brought him takeout for lunch all winter? Cameron went outside to get some air. Master Dean went with him. When can I see you? I love you!

I felt my forehead crease. Noa not using textspeak was slightly disconcerting. Every now and then, he tried to copy Cam and text properly, with punctuation and everything, but he was usually slinging lowercase abbreviations. Unless he went balls to the wall with all caps.

What worried me most was his first question, though.

I wrote him back.

It’s absolutely not your fault, freckles. A few months of takeout have nothing on twenty years of working too much. If anything, you’ve been his bright spot in the middle of the day when everything around him has pushed and pulled him in different directions.

I’m with Lucian now. I think he’s moments away from falling asleep, and then I’ll come out to you and Cam. Did you get something to eat? See you soon.

“Where’s my boy?” Lucian mumbled, half asleep.

I scratched my jaw and flicked a glance between Lucian and my phone, and something didn’t sit right with me. Cam wasn’t the type to go silent. He was usually first to respond to texts, even if he only left a thumbs-up or a heart. He didn’t like to keep people waiting.

I had to go out to him.

I winced at the uncomfortable spasms that traveled up and down my leg, and I rubbed my thigh. As much as it bothered me, I needed to take the boys home soon. They could see Lucian—if we could convince the nurses, even if Noa and Cam had to go in one at a time—but… Honestly, I’d be surprised if Lucian was awake by the time I walked out in less than a minute.

I got out of the chair with a grunt, and I reached for the crutches.

“I’ll go find Cam, honey.”

“Wait…” Lucian frowned and managed to crack his eyes open. “Say you love me…as much as I love…”

I smiled.

“Ativan,” he yawned.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I’m not sure anyone loves you that much.” I bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

“But I love you that much,” he grumbled. “I love you Ativan amounts.”

I chuckled and kissed him on the lips too. “I love you so much that I’m ready to become your worst enemy if you don’t get better. How’s that, sweetheart?”

He smiled drunkenly. “Sweetheart.”

Great. He’d heard the last word.

* * *

On my way out to the waiting room, I had my assistant’s wife’s voice going on a loop in my head. You don’t know how much shit nurses have to take, KC!

Rein it in, man. Rein it in.

My assistant at work was great, but his wife was next level. She took no prisoners. At the office holiday parties, she was the one who arrived with homemade cookies, the very picture of a ’50s housewife. But then she also dabbled in day-trading, online poker, and busting balls. All the partners at the firm loved her. She’d been a nurse before deciding to stay at home for a few years to raise the kids.

I pushed play on her voice over and over so that I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth and tell Lucian’s nurse to go to hell.

Only one visitor in the ER after eight PM, and the patient has to give their consent first.

Good luck getting Lucian to consent to another visitor when he was walking on Ativan clouds.

We’d do our best, but it wasn’t even worth trying with Noa. He and I could see Lucian tomorrow; it was much more important that Cam got to go in. I suspected he’d spend the night as well.

Either way, Lucian needed to sleep. Who got to see him tonight was, in the grand scheme of things, not what mattered.

I clenched my jaw as the prickling and numbing sensations in my legs started becoming more than I could handle, and I pushed through the last set of doors. Slow night in the emergency room; aside from two older ladies, I only spotted Noa, Santiago, and Gael.

“Finally!” Noa bolted up from his chair, visibly tense and worried, and grabbed my braces from the seat next to his, then ran over to me.

A breath gusted out of me as soon as he was in my arms. One of the crutches clanked against the floor, and I squeezed him tightly.

My sweet boy—I needed him as much as I needed air. His mere presence centered me, reenergized me, and calmed me down.

I trapped the other crutch under my arm and cupped his face in my hands. Forehead to forehead, I kissed his freckled cheeks, his eyelids, his nose—and I hated the redness around his eyes. He’d been upset.

“He’s going to be okay,” I promised.

He sniffled and nodded. “What happened?”

I…didn’t know how to respond. “We don’t know for sure yet, but I guess the gist of it is that his body can’t handle that amount of stress anymore. He needs to slow down.”

Noa’s eyes welled up, and he inched away to glare at nothing. “I hate his stupid job,” he whispered.

Noticing Santiago walking toward us, I gathered Noa close and kissed the top of his head. I hated Lucian’s job too. It’d been years since he’d actually enjoyed it. Whatever drove him now was… I didn’t even know. A compulsive need to deliver. Pressure. Habit.

As Santiago reached us, Noa eased away from me, only to bend down and pick up my braces. I hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped them.

“Thanks for being here tonight,” I said.

“Don’t mention it,” Santiago replied.

I split my focus temporarily while Noa got busy with putting on my braces outside my pants. He grunted and made it as tight as he could, then slapped the Velcro straps into place. The relief was instant—not enough, but it would do for now.

In the meantime, Santiago gave me a quick update as well. Noa had eaten a bag of Doritos from the vending machine, and as for Cam…

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he went on tiredly. “Dean texted me a few minutes ago, and he wants you to go outside when you have a moment. I think they’re just out front.”

Noa looked up at me with a scowl. “Cameron wouldn’t let me go out with him for fresh air.”

Something was definitely up. I combed my fingers through Noa’s hair and turned to Santiago again. “I’ll go out and talk to him. Would you mind…?” I trailed off with a nod at Noa, and Santiago got it.

“Hell no, we’ll be here for as long as you need us.” He tilted his head at Noa and offered a solid Daddy smile. “How about I get you and Gael some snacks, little one?”

Noa looked up in question to me.

I kissed his forehead, eternally grateful for Santiago. “I think that sounds great. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay, but hurry, please.” He fidgeted a little, and my boy wasn’t the fidgety type.

I needed this night to be over. I needed my family close, in my arms, where I could watch over them.

“I promise, freckles.”

* * *

The moment I stepped outside and was met by the cold air, I only grew more suspicious. Nobody wanted to stay out here for a long period of time to get fresh air. March had just begun, and nights could still drop below forty-five degrees.

Goddamn, my legs were killing me. Even with braces and crutches, my limit to what I could push through was approaching real quick. I peered around the wide entrance, spotting a handful of people, perhaps family members of patients, and it took me a beat to spot Cam. And Dean. They were standing on the curb some thirty or forty feet away, so I headed toward them.

Judging by their body language, Cam was closing in on himself, and Dean was…oh, probably holding down the fort till I got there.

Cam saw me first and folded his arms over his chest, all while his shoulders sagged, revealing defeat and resignation.

“Master Dean won’t let me leave,” he mumbled.

He wanted to leave.

I swallowed hard and closed the last distance. “I owe him one, in other words.” I sent Dean a quick look of gratitude.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then took a step back. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

I waited until Cam and I were alone—actually, I waited longer. I watched him in silence, sensing his internal struggle. My sweet boy, he looked like he was trying to hold back all his heartbreak. And I knew it was there. I knew he was hurting. Hearing that he wanted to leave saddened me but was by no means a surprise.

Regardless of how I felt, I had to show him I was on his side.

He cleared his throat and tried to stand a little taller, as if he was gearing up to say his piece. Or give his defense—but he wasn’t on trial here. Whatever he needed, we’d work things out.

“You can tell me anything, sweetheart,” I reminded him gently.

He nodded jerkily, close to breaking. I saw the crack in his exterior; his eyes welled up, and his bottom lip trembled.

“Daddy, I can’t see him,” he whimpered.

Fucking hell. My vision grew blurry in an instant. He called me Daddy so rarely that when he did, it was a punch straight to the ticker. It just wasn’t our day-to-day dynamic, even though I loved the moments he went there.

“Okay.” I coughed to clear my throat, and I peered behind me, resting one of my crutches against a trash can. “Come here.” I held out my arm for him, and he glued himself to me and broke down. Christ. I hugged him tightly and pressed my lips to the top of his head. “Okay,” I repeated. “Whatever you need, baby. But can you walk me through your thoughts?”

He sniffled and cried into his hands. “He promised me—he s-said he was gonna take care of himself. He promised me.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I glanced up at the sky and swallowed back my emotions—and my frustrations toward Lucian. Goddamn bastard. I loved the man, and he had the best of intentions, but he’d acted as if he were immortal.

Meanwhile…he’d entered a total power exchange with a young man who depended on him. They’d engaged in behavioral conditioning. They were Master and slave. Their core dynamic was high-protocol. Lucian was Cam’s world. They’d fused themselves together in every way imaginable, and then Lucian had pulled the rug out from underneath them.

“He fucking promised,” Cam croaked. Hurt and anger—betrayal too—rolled off him. “And if I see him, I’m gonna break. I’m gonna do whatever he asks, and it’s gonna hurt because…because I can’t t-trust him.”

I tightened my hold on him and kissed the top of his head. “I understand. You don’t have to see him. We can go home right now and⁠—”

“I-I talked to Archie,” he stammered. He wiped at his cheeks and peered up at me. “He said I could spend the night at their house.”

I furrowed my brow. Archie? They lived outside fucking Winchester. Cam wasn’t merely in need of a night away from Lucian; he wanted to put distance between himself and the rest of us too.

“I just need to gather my thoughts, Sir,” he said, pulling out his phone. He sniffled and wiped at his cheeks again. “I’m sorry. I know it’s selfish, but⁠—”

I shook my head, responding on autopilot. “It’s called self-preservation, little one. You don’t have a selfish bone in you.” As much as I hated this… Fuck. He showed me the text conversation with Archie, and I nodded with a dip of my chin.

Cam had asked to come out there because he needed a “fellow slave” to talk to. I couldn’t begrudge him that, even less so since I couldn’t relate to the same degree. I could easily see that this was a painful mindfuck, but I couldn’t know just how much it affected him.

I had my limits, though. Cam had told Archie he’d drive himself, and that wasn’t happening.

“You’re not driving on your own when you’re upset, Cam,” I told him. It was too late anyway. “We’ll take your car back to the house, and then Noa and I will drive you out there.” I needed my own car for that. A regular car would send us down the nearest ditch, if I could even get my foot on the gas.

“But it’s an hour and a half one way,” he protested.

“You’re not going alone.” I wasn’t budging. I dipped down and kissed his nose. Jesus, I was already missing him, and he hadn’t left yet. It just killed me that this was something I couldn’t help him with. “If anything, Noa could use the ride to process the night. We can stop at a drive-thru along the way or something.”

Knowing my freckles, I would need to make sure his guilt didn’t linger either.

That would undoubtedly require more than one conversation.

Cam was hesitant, which was so very him. He didn’t want to be a bother—and bullshit like that. So that only strengthened my resolve. Lucian would sleep through the night; I had to focus on our boys.

“I’m gonna go back in and leave a message for Lucian, okay?” I cupped his cheek and brushed my thumb under his eye. “I want him to see when he wakes up that I’ll be there to pick him up in the morning.”

His eyes welled up again. “Am I the shittiest sub ever? I should be with him. I want to⁠—”

“Hey.” I cut him off gently but firmly. “This goes way beyond kink, sweetheart. But even then, no—don’t even go there. He’s been downplaying his stress for months, and it has consequences, not just for his health but for his relationships. I only hope…” I let out a breath. “I hope you won’t be gone for long.”

He shook his head quickly and stepped in for another hug. I was more than happy to hold him.

“A night or two—tops. I think I…” He cleared his throat and whimpered, and the sound was fucking painful to hear. “I need to get out of the slave mind-set somehow. I need to distance myself from that way of thinking.”

My chest felt tight, and everything was just so wrong. And yet, I couldn’t blame him for wanting to reinforce his defenses. I’d do the same thing.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” He looked up at me, worry written all over him. “You said in your text…”

I nodded. “As long as he starts taking shit seriously, he’ll recover.”

And until Lucian showed progress, Cam had every right to be wary.

* * *

For the next hour, I had to push through the pain in my legs—and the anxious fucking ache in my heart. I left a note at Lucian’s bedside table and, as promised to both Noa and Cam, told him we loved him. Then Greer was calling me because he was obviously wondering and worrying about why Cam had decided to visit at this hour. So I had to tell him. I gave Greer a brief rundown of the night—and that Lucian would recover—before I let him know we’d drive Cam out to Winchester.

Dean, Santiago, and Gael were probably relieved as hell to go home. I’d have to find a way to thank them at some point.

Cam drove us back to our house in his little Mini Cooper SUV. And they were playing fast and loose with the term SUV for that make. I’d seen sedans that were larger. But at least I could take my painkillers as soon as we got home, and then we switched to my car since it was fitted for my needs, once Cam had packed an overnight bag.

We stopped to get some hot beverages and snacks on the way, partly because Noa hadn’t eaten a proper dinner and partly because I needed the caffeine.

The drive was silent and exhausting, and every time I glanced at the boys in the rearview, my restlessness grew. Noa didn’t like that Cam was “fucking off” for a night or two, and Cam was too close to tears the entire time.

In a moment of crisis, I would’ve wanted us closer than ever. Instead, it felt like the opposite. We were falling apart. Our tightly knit dynamic was unraveling and spitting out fragments of whatever we were on our own.

Tomorrow was going to be brutal. The doctor had said they’d do one more checkup on Lucian “around seven,” after the shift change, so I’d be there then to pick him up. I’d have to call the office and let them know I was taking a day off. Maybe Noa would come with me; I couldn’t foresee him heading to work. And we’d tell Lucian that Cam was in Winchester…

Somewhere around there, I would need my two-hour workout as well. I usually did that early, before work⁠—

“After we pick up Uncle Lucian tomorrow, can you drop me off at the grocery store, Daddy?” Noa asked. “I’m gonna buy him carrots and broccoli, and then I’m gonna throw out everything we have in the kitchen.”

I lifted my brows and eyed him in the rearview. I didn’t like the look on his face one fucking bit. He wasn’t joking. That was his plan.

“I’m gonna look up recipes for him,” he finished and brought out his phone.

I flicked a glance at Cam, who side-eyed Noa and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Everyone knew Noa and I were useless in the kitchen. Lucian wasn’t much better. Cooking was part of Cam’s servitude.

“You don’t have to do that,” Cam said quietly.

“Clearly, I do,” Noa replied. “It’s not like you’ll be there.”

Jesus.

“Noa.” I shot him a stern look in the rearview.

“What?” He glared back, all while Cam averted his gaze and teared up. “We have to be there for Lucian, and Cameron’s all⁠—”

“We have to be there for Cam as well,” I told him. “You, of all people, know what it’s like to have a loved one throwing out empty promises.” I’d had front-row seats to that shitshow for twelve damn years. Every time Christine had left rehab or whatever treatment program, she’d promised Noa things were going to change.

The last several years of our sham of a marriage, I hadn’t been able to leave because I couldn’t abandon Noa. Which was ironic, considering I’d left like a fucking coward when everything had fallen apart—and I got it. I understood Noa had abandonment issues, but that wasn’t what Cam was doing now. He wasn’t leaving us. He was taking a much-needed breather to regain his footing.

My words struck Noa hard; that much was clear from his expression. He turned to look out the window, and he wiped at his cheeks each time tears rolled down.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to finish my coffee. It slid down with a nice helping of guilt—but I just couldn’t handle them having a falling-out tonight.

“We gotta get through this together, boys,” I said, checking my sideview mirror. Was that idiot gonna pass me or not? He’d been up my ass the past mile. “Now’s not the time to pick fights and get defensive. If you need to blame someone, look to the man in the hospital who’s currently having sex dreams about Ativan.”

Noa made a noise, a pinch of humor mingled with his hurt. “Great. Let’s blame the guy who almost died.” Maybe the last word made things too real because he crumpled and covered his face with his hands. “At least you tried to help him. I kept bringing him pizza and burgers!”

Aw, fuck.

“Freckles, we covered this,” I murmured. “This is not your fault. Lucian’s been putting too much pressure on himself since before you were born.”

Cam removed his seat belt and slid over to the middle seat, and he wrapped his arms around Noa. A sight that brought me a ton of relief.

“He made promises to you too, Noa,” Cam said quietly. “You just wanted to make him happy, and he kept saying he was fine. You had no reason not to trust him.”

I took a deep breath and allowed myself all the comfort in knowing that the boys were still solid. They hugged each other, comforted one another, wiped each other’s tears, and alternated between totally blaming Lucian for everything and missing him and wanting to nurse him back to health.

With the number of men in our relationship, I didn’t see any reason as to why Lucian wouldn’t receive all kinds of reactions after tomorrow. We’d fuss over him, we’d pamper and spoil him, we’d put our fucking feet down, we’d yell if we had to…

I furrowed my brow. We’d have to create some sort of balance so that we didn’t give him whiplash with the various extremes of our moods. For as long as Cam was cautious, I’d be the cushion. Noa would always jump from one mood to the next—and showcase it—but Lucian was going to need stability and peace in his recovery.

* * *

A little past midnight, we finally drove up the long dirt road to Greer’s farm. It wasn’t long ago we’d been here. Sloan had fixed an oil leak in Lucian’s Jag. Noa had tried to help Corey rake up dead leaves in the yard. Cam and Archie had baked together.

It was a homey place. The house had left me with a feeling I couldn’t say I got from our home, which Cam and I had talked about briefly. He kind of wanted to make some changes around the house, and considering I knew fuck-all about interior design, I’d said go for it. As long as my indoor pool area went untouched.

When Lucian and I had bought our house, the last thing on our minds had been colors and materials. I’d fixed my attention solely on the pool since it would be my personal workout station two hours every day, and Lucian had hired people to make the kitchen wheelchair-friendly. We’d had the kitchen island removed, mainly.

But I could admit something was missing. Noa and Cam hadn’t really left their marks yet. We were living in the catalogue home Lucian and I had randomly picked out. In retrospect, it gave off a few bachelor vibes—if the bachelors loved naked walls and cherrywood all over.

Greer had a number of dogs he’d adopted over the years, so I wasn’t surprised that our arrival was announced. Greer, Sloan, Archie, and Corey were waiting on the porch when I slowed down in front of the gate.

Finlay Ridge Family Farm.

From here, even in the dark, we could see the expansive front yard, the vegetable garden, the chicken coop, swing set, and creek.

Cam climbed out as I killed the engine, and Noa offered me my cane between the seats.

“Are you sure you should get out, Daddy?” he asked. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”

“Another five minutes won’t make a difference—but I’ll be cuddling you half to death in our bed as soon as we get home.”

He flashed me the first genuine grin all evening and zipped up his jacket.

Greer was there to open the gate for us, and Noa and I trailed a few paces behind Cam.

“How you doin’, pet?” Greer flashed him a look of sympathy.

“Ugh, Sir. The answer is ugh.”

“I bet.” Greer ruffled the boy’s hair a bit, then nodded toward the porch. “Archie’s ready to fuss over you.”

“Hi, Noa!” Corey waved from the porch. He was appropriately dressed in a green onesie—with a hood and everything.

Noa waved back.

Cam returned to me and dropped his bag before he hugged my middle, and I squeezed him tightly. When he wriggled inside my jacket, I understood it wasn’t going to be the briefest hug, so I nudged Noa and told him it was okay to go say hi to Corey.

Noa nodded and greeted Greer on the way too.

I kissed the top of Cam’s head and rubbed his back. “Everything’s gonna work out, little one.”

He sniffled and nodded against my chest.

Greer cleared his throat. “Any updates on Lucian?”

I lifted my head. “Not really. He was out like the light when I left a message in his room—but the blood work confirmed the EKG, at least. No sign of a heart attack.”

Greer released a breath. “Thank fuck. So he’s comin’ home tomorrow?”

I inclined my head and rubbed the back of Cam’s neck. “Noa and I will pick him up pretty early.” I dropped another kiss to Cam’s hair. “You ready to go in, pet? You need to get some rest.”

Cam nodded drowsily and took a step back. “I love you,” he mumbled and wiped at his cheeks.

“I love you too.” I cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead. “Don’t feel bad, okay?”

He let out a tearful chuckle. “I’ll try.”

“I mean it,” I murmured. “You did the right thing. As much as this pains me, I think it’s good for all of us. We don’t wanna taint anything by acting out of guilt and sympathy. You need this break—and when you come home again, you’ll’ve had a day or two to prepare.”

He nodded jerkily, eyes welling up again, so I reckoned he’d needed to hear that. “Thank you,” he croaked.

I gave him a final squeeze, then let a chunk of my heart walk away from me with an overnight bag he’d gotten from Lucian and me for Christmas.

I blew out a heavy breath and gripped the cane a little harder.

“I’d appreciate if he didn’t stay up too long tonight,” I said. “He needs to relax—which I’m not sure he’s done in weeks.”

Greer nodded with a dip of his chin. “Of course. And if Lucian calls tomorrow?”

Fuck, I hadn’t thought that far.

It would be easy to say that it was Cam’s choice whether to answer the phone or not, but Greer had asked the question for the same reason I didn’t respond right away. Cam would cave before he was mentally ready. If Lucian begged Cam to come home, he would.

“You have my permission to take Cam’s phone,” I replied. “You know Lucian—he would never do anything to hurt anyone, least of all that boy. But…”

Greer nodded once. I didn’t need to elaborate.

In Lucian’s time of need, it was possible he couldn’t see what his actions had already caused. Furthermore, how his requests might unintentionally manipulate Cam emotionally. We needed to prevent that from happening.

“You can let Cam know that I will tell Lucian to give him some space,” I decided. “Even if I have to take Lucian’s phone in the process.”

“To be a fly on that wall,” he chuckled quietly.

I huffed.

He ran a hand through his hair and jerked his chin at my car. “Go home and get some rest, buddy. We’ll look after Cam—he can stay for as long as he needs. And let me know when I can see Lucian. I’ll bring Penelope with me.”

Oof, the heavy artillery right away. “You were infantry in the Marines, weren’t you?”

He let out a laugh. “You know it.”

Good timing for Noa to come running down the stone path. He didn’t arrive empty-handed either. He was carrying a brown paper bag.

“Archie gave us road snacks, Daddy,” he announced, out of breath. “Homemade chips, lemonade, and two sammiches!”

“Those chips are lethal,” Greer said. “They’re supposedly not overly unhealthy either—in case you wanna let Lucian try ’em.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’s earned homemade chips yet,” I answered. “It’s best Noa and I eat them.”

Noa giggled and hurried back into the car, this time parking his butt in the passenger’s seat.

I turned to Greer again. “Please thank Archie for us. And thank you for—fuck, everything.”

He smirked and offered a two-finger salute. “Anytime. Just keep us posted.”

“Will do.”