Page 100 of Prohibited

Ryan

Alex rushed forward as Ryan all but collapsed to his knees. His face was white to the lips and when he caught Ryan, his hands were shaking.

“What–” Alex started. “My God.” He caught Ryan’s right wrist and brought his hand up, staring at the handkerchief soaked with crimson where two fingers should have been. “What did they do to you?”

“Cut off my fucking fingers,” Ryan said weakly. “What does it fucking look like?”

Alex took Ryan’s face between his hands, looking over the damage with a cold fury in his face that would have curdled anyone’s blood. Strangely, Ryan was warmed by it.

“I’ll kill them.” Alex’s voice was a vicious whisper. And then he sighed. “Oh, your face, Ryan. Your beautiful face.”

“Not anymore, I guess,” Ryan said. “Guess you’ll have to find yourself another pretty boy to moon over.”

Alex laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “Don’t you wish.” Then he got up and walked over to the small cotwhere he’d been sitting. He picked up his white linen jacket and brought it back to where Ryan knelt on the concrete floor, cradling his butchered hand while he ground his teeth and tried not to moan from the pain. In spite of his best effort to remain upright, the cell swam before his eyes and his head felt both terribly light and incredibly heavy all at once. He didn’t even realize he’d started to go over sideways until Alex caught him by the shoulders and eased him down.

Ryan blinked hard and tried to sit back up, but Alex held him fast.

“Stay.”

Shaking, hot and cold all at once, Ryan obeyed out of sheer exhaustion. His body felt as though he’d grabbed two hot electric wires.

Taking deep breaths, he opened his eyes once more and looked up at Alex. His head, he realized faintly, was on Alex’s knee. Alex was looking down at him, jaw flexing, eyes simmering with hatred and anger.

With very gentle fingers, he peeled the handkerchief off of Ryan’s mutilated fingers and he hissed under his breath when he saw the bloody stumps. His hand came up near his face, but clamped closed before he could do anything more with it. Then, he wrapped Ryan’s hand in the coat and put his bloody hand back on Ryan’s face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Alex said. His expression still full of rage. “I didn’t know.”

Ryan turned his head and spit a fresh mouthful of blood on the ground. “Of course you didn’t, you idiot.”

Alex pulled a blue handkerchief out of his pocket–linen, the same color as his shirt–and wet it with his tongue. He began to wipe the blood off of Ryan’s face, still cradling Ryan’s aching jaw in his other hand, cool against the hot ache in Ryan’s face. The stubborn part of him wanted to shove Alex away, but he didn’t have the will. He was at his limit of endurance. Soaked in cold sweat. The nearness of Alex, the soft touch of his hands, was a balm although this fact made his stomach prickle with shame.

Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a long moment. Then, Ryan spat more blood onto the floor and Alex went on cleaning his face.

“What did they ask you?” Alex said while his hand worked gently but firmly.

“They were asking about Evi–Evelyn.” Ryan swallowed, wishing he wasn’t filling his stomach with his own blood from the gaping hole in his mouth where his tooth used to be.

The expression on Alex’s face sharpened. “What about her?”

“Where she is.” He spit more blood. “Obviously, I said nothing.”

“Obviously.” Alex glanced at his coat wadded around Ryan’s hand.

“I don’t think that’s the end of it.” Ryan ground his teeth together. “He was just getting started. Got interrupted.”

“You’re not going anywhere again,” Alex said in a voice that made Ryan’s spine tingle. “I’ll kill them before they touch you again.”

“Bare hands and all?” Ryan said with a humorless laugh.

A very unpleasant smile cracked the glare on Alex’s face. “They’re not very good at frisking.”

“Don’t get yourself killed on my account.” A strange knot was stuck in his throat. This felt more intimate than they’d ever been, even considering that they’d actually fucked. The burning look Alex was giving him made him want to hide, it was so intense. He had no name for it and no knowledge of what to do about it. But it called to him nonetheless.

“I don’t plan on it,” Alex said. “I’m not the selfless sort, you know.” Then he paused, as if he was stopping himself from saying more.

“Oh, I know,” Ryan said. Later he would have the capacity to feel ashamed of how good it felt to be tended to by Alex’s cool, pale fingers. But for now, he savored it, let it soothe the waves of agony still coming at him from his hand and his bloodied face.

“But I’d–” Alex paused again, lowering his eyes thoughtfully. “I’d do anything for you. For Lindsay.”

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