Page 18 of Agony

“I’m thirty-six. You’re not that much younger than I am.” He smacked Fisher on the ass and then wrapped his hand in the man’s thick dark hair. It was so long, it came to Fisher’s ass and Justice fucking loved the way it felt stroking his skin.

“A year is the difference between middle school and high school.” Fisher grinned at him.

“Brat. Where’d you go to school?” Leaning closer, Justice popped a kiss on the man’s smooth cheek.

Fisher spaced out and Justice watched it happen. After a full minute, he caressed the back of Fisher’s neck.

“Hey…”

Fisher blinked and shot him a brief glance. “I forget. Check out this job.” Fisher pointed at the screen.

Justice let it go. No way in hell did he want to stress Fisher out.

It was enough that they were finally together this much.

You’re weak. You always have been.

As a child, Fisher had been told those words on repeat and he still believed them to be true. He had kept up the same mantra in his head growing up.

Don’t move or it will be worse.

The man’s words came like a slithering snake of doom through the darkness and Fisher did what he was told not to do.

He fucking moved.

He never stayed still.

He never just accepted, even when he’d been sold to Solomon, he’d fought with everything he had inside.

Right at that moment, though, he couldn’t figure out how to stop the nightmare from sucking his soul into the dredges of hell or how to stop the thick red oozing from his open mouth.

And the fucked-up part was he knew the blood he was currently choking on was not real.

It wasn’t real!

Knowing that didn’t make a bit of fucking difference because he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

“Breathe, Fisher!”

And that voice was definitely not real. How the fuck had Justice climbed into his dreams?

“Fish! Wake up!”

Hard hands shook him and it was the force of that grip that yanked him upright on the bed. Gasping like a dead fish, he tried filling his lungs. It took several terrifying seconds before he wheezed in one agonizing breath.

That gulp of air was immediately followed up by another and he doubled over, sucking and gagging, filling his lungs.

His total focus was on the rich thick carpet beneath his bare feet and he blinked until the blood, pain, and smell of death dissipated.

Justice had already yanked him over to sit on the edge of the bed and Fisher bent over his thighs, gazing at the floor while Justice rubbed one big hand up and down his back.

He was so fucked up.

“Sorry,” he croaked, hoping Justice would let it go.

“Have you talked to anyone about your nightmares?”

Of course, the man had to go there. Justice thought it was his mission in life to dig up shit.

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