Page 21 of Leashed

Bo kicked offhis boots in the dark apartment, unwilling to turn on the lights to see if Ryan had already vacated the place.

Bo is on his game. He’s sober and working. But we know it won’t last.

The stark truth of his brother’s words had struck a blow, knocking him straight into the lounge where Clotho found him a few hours and a dozen beers later. She’d remained stoically at his side for three days and nights, waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass until she gave up and shoved him toward the last person he wanted to see him incoherently drunk.

But he couldn’t be pissed at the Fate. He’d stumbled into Sage’s lounge a complete mess and left a little less fucked up, finding Clotho perched on a bike rack waiting for him. She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t asked a single question. She’d merely followed him to an old motel where he slept off the last of the alcohol in his system, waking with a renewed drive to get back on the wagon.

Tucking his stack of books under one arm, he stared at the case of beer he’d picked up on his drive home, abandoning it in the foyer and going straight to his room.

He tossed the books onto his unmade bed and plugged in his phone, leaving Ryan’s deluge of texts unread and Alex’s calls unanswered.

He wasn’t ready to face either of them yet, not until he pushed past these first few days of sobriety again, proving Ryan wrong this once.

Filling his laundry basket, he walked into the bathroom to shower, brows lifting when he saw the neatly placed assortment of Ryan’s colognes and shaving cream still aligned on the sink counter.

Fucker hasn’t jumped ship yet.

He stepped under the spray without waiting for it to heat, anxious to wash away the past five days.

The vast parks surrounding the city had provided decent hideouts during the hours the bars were closed. Under C’s watchful eye, he’d shifted and run for hours, exhausting his body to rid himself of thoughts of Dio. Of the Pirithous. Of his brothers.

Of Sage.

But no matter how many miles he put under his paws, the thoughts kept coming.

Wrapping one towel around his hips, he rubbed another roughly over his hair before he ventured out, raiding the fridge before he returned to his room. He was a quarter of the way into the second vampire book when the first sex scene happened and he picked up his phone without thought.

Add bulging to the list of words that need to die.

He sent off the text before realizing what he was doing. Glaring at the clock, he set his cell facedown and continued to read until his phone vibrated.

Glistening. Petals.

Flipping ahead a few chapters, he found the passage Sage was referencing and messaged her back.

I like the scenes from the woman’s point of view. Research purposes.

He typed out a second text, reading it over a few times and hitting send.

You and buddy-boy make it to the movie?

Missed the first ten minutes. Just got home.

Doing some quick mental math on the time, he shook off the uneasy knowledge of what had likely gone down between Sage and her boyfriend in the two hours since the movie would have ended. He typed and deleted his response over and over until another text came in.

Going to bed. Have a good night Bo.

Folding the corner of the page over, he turned off the light and stared into the darkness while the warring forces inside him fought for dominance.

*

Sage lay awakein the silence of the predawn hours.

A blissful silence leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts.

Thoughts she shouldn’t have, amplifying a guilt she definitely should.

Rolling onto her back, she picked up her phone for the hundredth time and checked for a reply from Bo.

---