Page 64 of No Surrender
“Help me up.” Vic pushed away from the bed and faltered. Simon caught him, concerned that the boo hag had drained Vic so quickly.
“Quite a pair we make,” Simon made light of the way they both leaned on each other, but their sudden weakness worried him.
“You’ll recover,” Eppie said as if she could read his mind. “Clean the gashes and make sure to shower, eat, and drink, then sleep as long as you need to. I’ll handle the witch ball and make sure this hag remains bound for a very long time.”
They walked to their cars together, and Simon thanked Eppie again for her help before watching her drive away. Simon let Vic have his pride to limp unassisted to the passenger seat, but he didn’t take his eyes off his partner until Vic was safely settled inside.
“Should you drive?” Vic asked.
“Do we have a choice?”
Simon drove back to the blue bungalow, relieved once they were safe within the wardings. Despite Eppie’s certainty that they hadn’t been tainted by the boo hag’s malice, Simon didn’t feel like they had left the spirit behind until he felt the protections around them.
“You should go to the hospital. Those scratches look bad.”
Simon turned to Vic. “Do you want to explain? Because I don’t.”
Vic sighed. “I don’t care as long as you’re safe.”
“I’ve got antiseptic and butterfly bandages. I doubt I’ll need stitches,” Simon replied.
They hobbled into the house, but Vic stopped in the kitchen as soon as they entered and turned on the light. He didn’t say anything, just stepped into Simon’s space and began to touch him carefully, as if he might vanish.
“Vic—”
“Shh.” Vic unbuttoned what was left of Simon’s shirt and pulled it away from his body so he could see the claw marks. He slid the shirt from his shoulders, running his hands over Simon’s skin, triaging his wounds.
Vic’s breath caught when his fingers stopped above the gashes over Simon’s heart. His gaze dropped to the pink scars where Simon had been shot by the Slitter, and his expression tightened.
“I put you in danger. You get hurt because of me.”
Simon thought his heart would shatter at the raw look on Vic’s face. He grabbed Vic’s hand and held it over the still-seeping gashes above his heart.
“The danger was always there. But I have healed so much because of you.” He willed Vic to understand. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Vic D’Amato. I love you with everything I have. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Simon didn’t know what horrors Vic had dreamed under the spell of the boo hag, but the raw emotion in his eyes threatened to break Simon.
“I love you too, so much,” Vic whispered, laying his hand over Simon’s. “The dreams—I kept seeing you dead. Every close call we’ve had, except how it could have been. I was always too late—”
“But you weren’t.” Simon met Vic’s gaze. “You’ve always come for me. I know you always will. And I’ll do the same. We’re okay, Vic. Breathe. The hag’s gone. She can’t get you anymore.”
Simon had rarely seen Vic this rattled, and he wondered what else the hag had made him dream that he couldn’t put into words.
“Come on.” Simon led him to the bathroom. “Let’s clean up, and then we can sleep. We’re both calling off for the morning.”
Under the harsh fluorescent bathroom light, Simon satisfied his need to check Vic just as thoroughly for injuries. Aside from the bruising—and the psychological and energy damage the hag inflicted—Vic was unhurt.
Simon sat patiently as Vic insisted on cleaning and treating his wounds. He felt the love and concern in every touch of Vic’s shaking hands.
Once they had showered and changed into sleep pants, they slipped beneath the covers. Vic pulled Simon close. “I want—”
“Anything,” Simon promised, although he wondered if either of them were up to the challenge.
“Want to feel you. Need to forget.Please.”
Simon knew that they were both too spent for much, so he slid his hand down Vic’s chest, pausing to stroke his nipples until they pebbled. He let his hand drift lower, down Vic’s happy trail, and slid one hand beneath the drawstring waistband until he could wrap his fingers around Vic’s cock.
“Like this?”
