Saving Sebastian: A Catharsis Novel (Custos Securities Series Book 3)

by Luna, David

  Confusion furrowed her brow. “But it’s not a burden and he wouldn’t think it is either. I want to help you, Sebastian. You mean a lot to me. Please let me come tomorrow.”

  He shook his head, and when she was about to say something else, he asked, “When do you get off?”

  “Noon.”

  “Perfect. Why don’t you just come by for a little bit when you get off work? It’s right around the time I’ll get home.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she nodded. “Okay, fine. But, Sebastian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if I was having a scary surgery and I needed help with some stuff? Would you help me?”

  His mouth fell open. “Of course! You know I would.”

  Her smile was small, but it was there and she nodded. “Then you’re one of my people.”

  “I—”

  “And I’d like to be one of yours, if you’d let me.”

  Knowing this was monumental only for him he looked her in the eyes and did his best not to blubber when he nodded and said, “All right.”

  Like he’d been the one to do her a favor, she bounced happily and leaned in to hug him. When she pulled back she looked at him seriously and said, “You know, if you just gave him half a chance, Braden would be one of your people in a heartbeat.”

  He knew the truth of that down to his bones, but he shook his head nonetheless. “I won’t put him in that position. I’m not going to ask him not to tell his husband, and I’d never expect his husband to keep that from his brother. It’s too much. It’s best this way.”

  “He’s asked about you. I haven’t told him I’m coming to see you, but I’m pretty sure he knows. He said you weren’t answering his calls and that you sent him a text saying you just needed some time. But, that’ll only hold him for so long.”

  Sebastian had been afraid of that, but he’d been doing his best to just get through each day. Stressing about Braden was paramount to stressing about Gideon and he couldn’t go down that road. He’d given himself a couple days to mourn what he’d never really had to begin with, but he’d had to lock it away in a box so that he could function day to day, which was no exaggeration.

  Between getting a medical leave of absence scheduled, getting his surgery scheduled, his laser treatment scheduled, his house market ready, put on the market, leaving the house for showings hoping that he didn’t have an episode while he was walking around the block, packing up his house, arranging to view apartments, choosing one that would take Slap and Tickle and would go month to month, scheduling his movers, meeting with his lawyer, and so much more, he just didn’t have it in him. He was just lucky his house had sold nearly immediately.

  Everything he’d been dealing with would have been hard when he was at his most healthy, but he was at his weakest point, mentally, physically, and emotionally. The fact that he got through every day felt like a colossal task. To say he was exhausted was a ridiculous understatement.

  He didn’t have much left in him and he was holding on by the thinnest of threads. Actually realizing that had his shoulders slumping. He never let himself think about it. Never let himself stop to take a breather because too much noise filled his mind and if he let that happen all the balls he was juggling would drop. And who was going to have to pick them up? He was.

  He must have telegraphed his defeat because Zoe was patting him on the arm and then hugging him. “I’m not telling you this to worry or upset you. He won’t wait long before he takes things into his own hands. If you want to keep him away until you’re through the worst of it, you’re going to have to call him and tell him that you need time, that you’ll contact him when you are ready but you need him to respect your wishes.”

  Knowing she was right, he nodded and thanked her. They chatted for a long while after that and he was exhausted afterwards. When she could see his energy flagging, she let herself out and he sat on the couch, unable to move. Feeling every emotion bombarding him, he lay down and curled up and slept for several hours.

  When he woke up, he made the call he’d been dreading. He was vague, but he got his point across, and when he hung up, he knew that Braden had been hurt, but he also knew that his new friend wouldn’t push, and would give him the time he needed. Sebastian had promised he wouldn’t let their friendship end, that he just needed more time and he needed it to be on his terms. That more than anything is what had done it.

  He slept fitfully that night and the laser surgery was one of the hardest he’d ever dealt with. Suda, his favorite nurse, had been off that day, and for that he’d been grateful. She’d have been worried about him and he didn’t have the energy to deal with the gentle woman, no matter how well meaning and genuine. When he was dropped off in front of his house, Zoe was sitting on his front stoop. She hopped up when she saw him and helped him inside.

  He tried to do what he normally did but she shooed him to the couch and proceeded to take care of him. It was nice. He was iced, his kittens were lying on him, and he’d fallen asleep. He was shocked when he woke up hours later to find that Zoe had cooked him dinner, washed several loads of his laundry, and packed up half of his kitchen. He was so grateful and touched that she would even bother.

  She’d smiled and hugged him tight, murmuring, “I’m one of your people.”

  He’d finally agreed, nodding. “You are. And I’m so grateful. Thank you. Would you like to stay for some of the dinner you made?”

  “You’re welcome and no. I should get going. But, can I come over tomorrow? I work most of the day, but—”

  “No. Please. The second day is actually the worst day. I spend it sleeping and icing. That’s it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “All right. I work Sunday as well. But I’m coming to see you after work. No arguing. I’ll bring you dinner. We can eat dinner and watch bad movies.”

  He grinned. “Not good movies?”

  She scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”

  He shrugged. “Good question. Sunday, dinner, bad movies.”

  She grinned and said, “It’s a date.”

  With that, she was gone, and he sat, shocked. He’d never had anyone that would do what she’d done for him today. He’d been dreading the kitchen and getting up on the small step stool over and over and carrying heavy kitchen stuff. He’d been avoiding it like the plague and he couldn’t think of a better gift she could have given him.

  Feeling content for the first time in nearly two weeks, he got up and checked the kitchen. So many boxes stacked against the back wall that he just stared at them for several long moments before he turned and realized that she’d made him chicken and dumplings, which he actually loved. He ate more that night than he’d eaten at any one time in the last month.

  WHEN GIDEON FINALLY WALKED INTO the loft, he immediately got undressed and showered off the grime of the last forty-eight hours, or more accurately, the past two weeks. After he showered, he pulled on some boxers and was walking towards his bed when he stepped on a plastic cat toy. He glanced in the corner and saw Slap and Tickle’s bed he kept there.

  Knowing he’d made the right decision to get out of the loft for dinner, he picked up the cat toy and tossed it into the cat bed. The longer he stayed in the penthouse alone, surrounded by memories, the more his thoughts drifted towards Sebastian, and the look on his face when he’d ended it all.

  He got several hours of rack time, and feeling a bit more rested, he walked into the kitchen to grab his keys and noticed the bag he’d put on the kitchen table. The Christmas gift from Sebastian. Fuck. He dropped the keys on the countertop and made his way over to the table. Sitting down heavily, not wanting to open it but knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he reached into the tissue paper and pulled out several professionally pre-treated lengths of rope, just as his boy had said.

  His boy.

  As much as he knew he needed to stop thinking of him that way, he just didn’t see how that was possible. A part of him would alway
s think of him that way. Setting the last length of rope down on the table he reached in and realized there was a card. Opening it up, he laughed at the silly rendition of a Santa on a sleigh whipping a reindeer that was telling Santa to do it again, but harder. The note from Sebastian was short and sweet.

  Jesus. Shoulders slumped, he tossed the bag on the table in defeat and heard a thunk. Brow furrowed, he reached in and his breath caught. Leaning forward he pulled Sebastian’s temporary collar out of the bag and stared at it, pooled in his palm. Running his finger over the links, he took a deep breath and squeezed the necklace in his hand.

  He’d had the collar made specifically for Sebastian even though it was only meant to be a temporary collar for their temporary relationship. Contract. Fuck. Sure, he could have gotten him some cheap collar any Dom could give any sub, but giving a submissive a collar—whether temporary or permanent—was a serious thing and even though it had been for the short term he felt a collar should signify how a Dom saw his sub. And when he looked at his boy he saw beauty, and strength, and above all worthiness. All things he wanted Sebastian to see in himself, but knew he didn’t.

  He looked back down at the links of metal and shook his head, it was temporary, yes, so why did it hurt so much that Sebastian had given it back? He sat there for a while, unable to move. He’d made the right decision, hadn’t he? Sebastian needed someone good, someone that would love him the way he deserved to be loved. A niggling thought that no one could ever love Sebastian more than he did snuck in, but he pushed it out. Sighing, he stood up, put his boy’s collar in his pocket, and grabbed the keys again.

  Thirty minutes later, he walked into his parents’ house and was immediately enveloped by the sound of Adele, crooning from the kitchen speakers and the aroma of his mother’s perfectly prepared beef Wellington. It was his favorite of all of her culinary endeavors, and he couldn’t help but smile when he realized his mom must have been missing him. He headed towards the kitchen.

  He spotted Buckley lounging in front of the lit fireplace on his enormous dog bed. His ears perked up as Gideon walked in and stood to amble over for a nice rubdown, which Gideon was happy to provide. His mother was at the main sink. She hummed along to the music, her back to him, oblivious of his arrival.

  Gideon walked up behind his favorite woman on earth. When he slipped his arms around her and kissed her on the head, she squeaked and her kitchen shears clattered in the sink. She turned around to reprimand him. “Dammit, Gideon! You’re too stealthy! You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day!”

  But even while she admonished him, she pulled him in for a tight embrace. He swayed with her from side to side. “You look gorgeous, Ma. Always have, always will.”

  “Oh you! Stop that.” She pulled him down, so that she could kiss him on both cheeks. “Gideon, you’re looking tired and worn out. I don’t like it when you’re away for so long. I worry.”

  He hugged her to him again. “It wasn’t that long. I’m okay, Mom.”

  His dad patted him on the back and he turned and clasped his hand and pulled him in for a hug. “Hey, Dad. How are you?”

  His dad pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “Good, now that you’re here. Your mother worries.”

  Gideon gave his father a knowing smile. “There’s no need for either of you to worry. As you can see, I’m good.”

  He could tell they didn’t believe him when they both continued to scrutinize him. However, he was saved from further discussion, as the front door slammed and Finn and Rowan came into the kitchen, chatting animatedly about something. He skirted around the side of the island and unwrapped the flowers. While his mom was distracted with his siblings’ arrival, he got out a vase, cut the stems, and arranged the bouquet of stargazer lilies, one of her favorites. His mom headed back to the sink, saw the flowers he’d arranged and clasped her hands together over her heart. She hugged him and whispered, “Thank you, my sweet boy.”

  “Anything for you.”

  His father winked at him and moved the flowers to the sideboard that faced the dining table. As he finished and cleaned up he heard Buckley bark and knew that Zavier and Braden had arrived with Braden’s dog Thor, Buckley’s best friend. Braden bent down to remove Thor’s chest harness. Besides his tail wagging slightly, you wouldn’t know Thor was excited about seeing Buckley. He was obviously working.

  Buckley and Thor barked and ran through the open patio doors to frolic together in the backyard. Braden set the harness down by Buckley’s bed and came back to greet him. They hugged and Gideon could see the strain in his eyes. “Thor’s working? You all right?”

  Braden’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, when he nodded and said that he was. Zavier approached; having greeted everyone, he returned to his husband and wrapped him in his arms from behind. He whispered something in Braden’s ear, which prompted the smaller man to lean back against his husband and lift up to kiss the side of Zavier’s face. Gideon knew his brother was overprotective of Braden, but seeing that the younger man wasn’t at his best, made his own protective instincts kick in. “What can I get him to drink?”

  His brother helped Braden onto one of the counter stools. “If you could heat up some water, some herbal tea would be great. We couldn’t prevent a migraine yesterday, so he’s dealing with the hangover from that, today.”

  The water boiled and Gideon fixed Braden the tea, sliding it across the counter in front of Braden, who thanked him. He wrapped his hands around the mug as if he was cold and needed the warmth. When dinner was ready they moved to take their seats, and passed around the food.

  He watched his brother and Braden interact. Acknowledging that his reaction was jealousy, pure and simple. What they had with each other, he wanted for himself. He realized that he’d always wanted it in an offhand, someday sort of way, but someday wasn’t going to cut it any longer. When would someday come? Was it just a trick he played on himself to believe he had a future to look forward to? Why the fuck did he leave the CIA to begin with if he wasn’t going to get the fuck on with his life?

  After Lars, he realized his thought process was slowly changing. The thoughts that he’d never let take hold slowly began to creep in, to take root. There was so much in his past that he wasn’t proud of, but punishing himself for the rest of his life wasn’t going to do him any good. It wouldn’t right the wrongs he’d perpetrated. It wouldn’t turn back time. When was enough going to be enough? He was the only one that could answer that and the answer came clearly when he finally allowed himself to listen. He needed to allow himself to live.

  He wanted someday, and he wanted someday to come immediately. And not only did he want it—with a fierceness that was nearly his undoing—but he wanted it with someone specific. He always kept himself from seeing what could be and suddenly that’s all he could see.

  He’d known he was in love with Sebastian, but that was all about how he felt about his boy. It was outwardly projected, something other. But thinking of it now in terms of him, in terms of them together was something altogether different. Without realizing it, he set his knife and fork down and moved his napkin from his lap to the table.

  He was about to push his chair back when his father, who sat at the head of the table, to his left, placed his hand over the back of Gideon’s. He looked up, into his father’s eyes, startled that he’d been so out of it, he hadn’t realized that everyone at the table was looking at him. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I must have checked out.”

  His father squeezed his hand gently and said, “Finn asked you a question.”

  Gideon turned to face his brother. “What?”

  “I was just saying that I haven’t seen you in a while. How is Sebastian feeling? Is he recovering from his illness?”

  His mother piped in. “What’s wrong with Sebastian?”

  He ignored his mother’s question and turned his confused gaze to his brother. “Illness? I… I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I ended it with him. How do you even know Se
bastian was sick?”

  “What do you mean you ended it with him? That boy was perfect for you!”

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me. That boy was the sweetest thing. And so talented. I’m going to call him for a tattoo appointment. You need someone like him. What happened?”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, praying to whatever deity would listen, for patience. “It wasn’t working out. We set clear boundaries in our contract, he broke them. I was losing trust in him. He kept canceling on me. Finally, a few days before New Year’s I went to check on him after he cancelled again. He wasn’t even home. I just—”

  “Jesus, you’re something.”

  Gideon’s heart stopped at his brother’s disgusted tone. He turned his head in Finn’s direction, glaring. “Excuse me?”

  Finn glared right back. “You’re a piece of work, is all. Get off your goddamned high horse for a minute and think. How did he look the last time you saw him, Gideon?”

  Thrown off by the question, he couldn’t help but bring up an image in his mind of Sebastian on the night of the party. He’d dressed up, but now that Gideon thought about it, his boy had looked tired and drawn out. Pale and too thin. His pants had been too big, the sweater even bigger. Jesus. How could he have overlooked that?

  He glanced back at his brother, who was shaking his head. “Not good, right?”

  No. It hadn’t been good. Fuck. Was he so goddamned blinded by his own self-righteous indignation that he hadn’t even bothered to really see his boy? To really notice something wasn’t right? But Finn hadn’t even been there, he’d been working. He hadn’t seen Finn since Christmas, and he hadn’t asked about Sebastian at that time so why now?

  “How do you know he was sick?”

  Finn stood up from the table, grabbing his napkin before it fell to the floor. “I just know he hadn’t been feeling well.”

  “But how, Finn?”

  Finn wandered away, into the kitchen, all eyes on him. “What’s your issue, Gideon? Why does it even ma—”