Page 146 of Naughty Dreams
He remembered what he’d thought back at the warehouse, that he would hold nothing back from his Master, that he’d give Roy the ability to destroy him because what he’d gain from that vulnerability would be worth it.
He had to be able to trust him. Even when he was mad like this. The uncertainty of not knowing if he could, on top of everything else, was intolerable.
“Roy. Would you pull over? Please.”
He wasn’t sure Roy would respond, but then he did, pulling into a Hardee’s parking lot. When he shut off the car, he stared straight ahead. DJ looked at the section of his profile he could see from the back seat. Strong jaw, straight nose. Corded throat and tense shoulder.
“I didn’t plan it, Roy. I heard what I thought were shots, and I just reacted. I wasn’t trying to do your job. I was trying not to lose more than I can bear, because what I’ve lost is already unbearable.
“What I’m trying to say is I couldn’t have stopped myself, Roy. I don’t stop being who I am just because someone isprotecting me. Keeping the people I care about safe means more to me than my own life. I can’t apologize for that. But I am sorry that I made you feel the way you’re feeling. I would never do that on purpose. I hope you know that.”
It was the best he could do. He just had to wait and hope.
Roy tapped the steering wheel. His shoulders lifted and fell in a deep sigh. “Get in the front.”
“You sure?” DJ said cautiously. “I’m kind of digging this Miss Daisy shit.”
“Do not make me come back there.”
DJ managed a tired grin and left the vehicle, sliding into the front with Roy. And then swallowed a shocked gasp as Roy grabbed his shirt in two hands and slammed his mouth on DJ’s, a demanding, possessive, knee weakening, mind-numbing kiss that went on for a blissful century before Roy pulled back and gave him a hard look, though there was something not hard in it that made DJ feel like he was holding Roy’s heart in his hands.
“If you got hurt trying to protect me, it would shred me. There’d be nothing left. You understand? You want to protect me? You always,alwayslet me do my job.”
There’s a reason I do what I do, Dory. It’s the core of who I am.
He remembered when Roy had said that to him, in the hotel room that first time.
Roy had trusted DJ right back, showing DJ a window into his soul, where raw pain, determination, violence and need all lived together.
Protecting you
Makes my life matter.
Having you
Makes my heart beat.
Needing you
Makes my soul endure.
But maybe what DJ hadn’t known or understood, until the moment the fireworks went off, was how much he felt the same way.
The chorus…
Anything.
Call me yours
And I will survive
Anything.
When they reached the hotel, G sent Roy an update. After Roy took a look at it, he told DJ to stay in the room and keep it locked. Usually the kid would have said “should I pinky promise” or some other smartass bullshit to lighten things up, but he simply nodded. His brain was still a little scrambled, and the fight between them too fresh.
Roy wasn’t going any further than wearing a track in the carpeted hallway outside the door, but he needed the space. He needed to calm down. The last time he’d been that furious was when he woke up with relatively minor injuries. He’d hit his head on a rock when G shoved him out of the way of an IED. She’d taken the brunt of the blast.
When he’d gone to her hospital room, she’d read him like a kid’s comic book. “If you get pissed at me,” she informed him, her voice raspy from her burns and pain meds, “I will kick your ass. You think you’re the only goddamn person allowed to be a hero? Don’t be such a self-absorbed prick.”
