Page 74 of Naughty Dreams
Roy moved to take it, and DJ whirled around, holding him off.
“You aren’t listening, and I really want you to listen. I’m the best thing for you. Everything in the world I do is to protect and care for you. To look out for you. I’ll?—”
DJ howled and flung the phone at the wall. Then he was charging across the living room to the balcony door.Fuck.
Roy feared he’d go right through the glass, but DJ wrenched open the door, allowing Roy to catch up to him. Before he could hurl himself out to do whatever he was thinking, Roy had him around the waist. DJ gripped the frame and screamed out at the city skyline.
“You think you can do anything worse to me? Come and get me, motherfucker. Come get whatever pieces you want. You broke them, and I swear to God I will use one of them, all of them, to cut your motherfucking throat.”
He was straining against Roy’s hold, that railing far too close for Roy’s peace of mind. DJ tried to fight him, buck his hold, butRoy put him down and pinned him to the floor. He tried his best not to hurt him, just to contain him.
He'd seen people deal with loss, but never loss this large, this fresh. It was a different kind of agony, watching someone he cared about suffer with it. His heart ached for the kid, for the anguish he could feel coming off of him in waves.
“Stop,” he told DJ, holding onto him. “Dory, stop. Take a breath. Breathe.”
“Can’t breathe. It hurts too much to breathe. I can’t survive this, Roy. I can’t.”
Hearing DJ confirm what was already in his head helped Roy get a grip. He was a problem solver for his clients. They would figure this out.
He told DJ as much. DJ rubbed his face into the carpet like he was trying to take the skin off. “Get the fuck off.”
“Not until you calm down.”
DJ howled, a wounded animal in a trap. Roy held him, connecting to Jim just long enough to let him know they were fine, despite the noise. About that time, DJ went limp, his long fingers curling into the carpet, his breathing harsh in his throat. “No,” he said softly. “Just please…no.”
Cautiously Roy lifted one hand to pull the curtain back over the balcony door. Just in time, because a network chopper did a fly-by, rattling the glass.
He bent forward. The kid was staring into space again.
“You told me at our first interview that you’ve survived the unsurvivable. This bastard is small potatoes.”
“I’m too tired to survive anything more.”
“No. You’re just tired. Go to bed, and sleep until I get you a ride home. I’ll get you home. Don’t think about anything else. I’ll keep the wolves outside the door.”
DJ laughed bitterly. “They’ve already gotten in and eaten everyone, Roy. What does it matter? Oh hell,” he whispered, and tears flowed from his eyes.
“Come on.” Roy helped him to his feet, half carrying him to put him in an upright position. DJ leaned against him, then rubbed his hand over his jaw. Roy waited him out, the two of them standing there. DJ’s chin dipped, a little nod, as if he’d just now gone over Roy’s suggestion and accepted it.
Proving it, he pushed away wearily, and started toward the bedroom on his own. As he did, he removed the shirts Roy had put on him, toed off his shoes, and unfastened his jeans, letting them fall. He stumbled out of them and then fell in the bed in his shorts, pulling the covers up and over. Roy had followed, ready to help, but giving him room to decide how much or how little he needed.
Roy didn’t like seeing the way DJ curled into himself under the covers. Rejecting contact, making himself as small as possible. But he would respect it. The kid needed time. The man needed time. Time without anyone poking at him.
Though Roy would have to be tortured to admit it, DJ was one of the most responsible clients he’d ever had. Even with his mischievous nature and smart-ass mouth.
Roy would give him the space he needed.
“You want to fly or drive?
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever gets me there the fastest.”
“All right.” There were other things that needed to happen before they could get on that plane, starting with a threat assessment of where they were going, but Roy’s hope was DJ would stay asleep long enough not to fight him on the delay for those necessary precautions.
There was a balcony access in this room, too. When Roy went to pull the curtains on that window, he wished this was one of the hotels that didn’t give their guests an easy way to jump totheir deaths. He thought about posting someone in the room, but then DJ spoke, his voice muffled.
“I’m not that pathetic, Roy.”
Roy dropped to a knee beside the bed and pulled down the covers the few inches needed to find DJ’s weary eyes. “You swear it to me.”
