Page 82 of Seeking Two Lovers

Keening filled the kitchen, and I doubled over in my chair when I realized the agonized sounds came from my chest.

I shook my head, clinging to Grey’s hand like a lifeline, my mind too upheaved to deny what he’d stated. Nausea gurgled in my guts, and I swallowed repeatedly.

Why had I left her? I should have stayed. Protected her from that pedophile.

Wetness hazed my eyes when I lifted my head to beg Grey for…something. I didn’t know. To make it all go away? Make things better? Say the words and offer me the comfort that always gave my heart rest?

The blurred image of him stood, and he rounded the table without releasing my hand.

“P-please,” I choked out, and he pulled me off the chair and into his arms to crush me against him.

For the first time in my life, he didn’t ground my emotions or bring in the healing balm my heart needed. I shivered and gasped for breath, eyes wide and unblinking.

“I’m working on having that compound infiltrated and shut down,” Grey said in his business tone against my temple as I clung to him, waiting for my rock to settle me. “We’re going to get her the hell out of there.”

No tears slipped from my eyes, but I couldn’t stop fucking shaking.

“I’m going to take care of this—I have the money, I have the means. That shit hole will be shut down, I’ll see Quell behind bars, and all those innocent lambs being led around will be drinking more than Kool-Aid before summer’s end. I promise, Blaine.”

One thing about Grey’s promises…he saw them through.

Every time.

I managed to draw a shuddering breath that completely filled my lungs, and I closed my eyes, willing his warmth to seep into my cold bones. Eventually, I quieted, finding the comfort he always gave me.

Curled up in the cocoon of his comforter and strong arms a couple hours later, I managed to get a bit of rest.

But memories slid into my dreams with inky darkness that left me clinging until morning to the only anchor I had in life.

25

GREYSON

Guilt weighed me down.

I’d done the right thing in telling Blaine what I’d found out. Hell, he’d even thanked me while I’d held him in my bed the next morning, but I hated that I’d hurt him.

For two days, he walked around as though in a haze. His boss Wyatt called me to see if everything was okay since Blaine wouldn’t open up to him when he’d asked.

I played it off as family problems and left it at that.

On Thursday night, he didn’t come down for dinner, so I climbed the stairs with a roast beef sandwich and chips on a tray. I’d about siphoned the strength well inside me dry, but the man worked too physical of a job to skip a meal. I could give a little bit more and would continue until I collapsed.

I knocked, his quiet call to enter giving me permission to disturb him.

His room sat bare as usual, no sign of personality or keepsakes and pictures to deny the assumption it was a guest room.

Blaine lay curled on his side, his back to the door.

“I brought you some dinner,” I told him, my voice loud in the hushed, shrouded atmosphere.

“Not hungry.”

I set the tray on the bedside table and settled onto the edge of his mattress, at a loss for what to say or do to ease his pain. My fingers itched to offer comfort, so I stroked his hair since it was what Mom had always done for me when I got sad as a kid. “It’s killing me to see you like this,” I admitted, my voice as broken as my heart. “I never should have told you—”

“I’m glad you did. Given the choice, I would want to know.”

“But—”

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