by Cameron Dane
A sharp, stabbing pain drilled Hunter in the chest. “Shit.” The soft curse slipped out as he closed his eyes and let his head fall to rest against the side of the truck. “The things I said to you.” A loop of Hunter’s accusations played at top volume in his mind. When compared to the truth Alex had just shared, Hunter wanted to impale himself on the nearest sharp object. “I’m so sorry.” Forcing himself out of hiding, Hunter opened his eyes and made contact with Alex again. His throat and mouth now bore the ashes of his hot, careless words and stupidity. “I’m such an ass. I know it’s not sufficient, but I am so sorry for what I said about you and your friend.”
Alex rubbed his forehead and then curled his hand around his neck. “Goddamn it, Hunt. I am not a violent person, but I want to shake you.” Standing right in front of Hunter, Alex locked his other hand behind his neck and homed in on Hunter with a piercing, penetrating stare. “Do you really think I would open myself up to you like I did at my trailer, then run off and let some other man fuck me for a week, and then come back and let you do what you did to me just now?”
“Jesus Christ. What I just did to you…” Hunter didn’t have to close his eyes to remember. On his marred flesh, Alex wore the results of Hunter’s disgusting mix of anger and passion. “I could have hurt you again. I didn’t” -- he swallowed bile, unable to yet speak of his self-harming -- “take care of what I felt when I let myself think about what you were doing with another man while you were away. I let it get out of control. I let it fester, and look what it did to you.”
Alex arched a brow. “You’ve left me sore, Hunt.” He ran his hand over the bite on his chest and the scratches looping both sides of his torso. “You did last time too.” He reached back and rubbed his asshole through his pants but never once blinked or looked away. “I never once told you to stop, though. Either time.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Hunter slid down the side of his truck, ending with his elbows on his knees and his fingers tunneled in his hair. “I fuck up around everybody, but especially around you.” Every situation Hunter had screwed up since returning to Quinten suddenly pummeled him in rapid succession. Pressure built mightily behind his eyes, and his throat thickened terribly. “I don’t know how smart it was for me to ever have come home.” Shame filled him. Christ, he couldn’t look away, but he didn’t want Alex to see him like this. “I’m not normal anymore.”
“Hunter, don’t say --” Alex dropped to squat in front of Hunter, but as soon as he did, a soft trill filled the breezy air. “Shit.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “Give me a sec.”
Alex took a step away, phone to his ear. Hunter lambasted himself for losing his shit -- right now and in the house -- and went for his pocketknife again. It wouldn’t help him, but maybe this time Alex would get some satisfaction out of seeing Hunter’s blood drawn.
Hunter hadn’t even gotten his fingers around the metal when Alex, a half-dozen feet away, put his hand over his mouth and went white as a ghost. What the hell? His heart suddenly racing in that way it had when sensing an enemy in battle, Hunter leaped up and lunged for Alex. He grabbed Alex around the waist and dragged him to the porch steps just as the man’s legs started to crumple.
“Jesus, Alex.” Hunter settled Alex on the steps and then knelt in front of him. “You’re scaring me.” He tried to rub some color back into Alex’s cheeks. “What’s the matter?”
Tears rimmed Alex’s eyes. “He told me to come back.” He nodded as if Hunter might not believe him. “He told me to.”
“Who did?” Hunter held Alex’s arms, keeping him steady. “Mack?”
Alex wiped wetness from his cheeks. “Yes.”
“Okay,” Hunter prompted. “He told you to come back. And?”
“And now he’s gone.” Alex’s voice cracked in the most awful way. “Son of a bitch, old man” -- he heaved and choked -- “up and died on me.”
Oh, baby. Hunter’s heart sank. Alex pitched forward, and Hunter pulled the grieving man into his arms.
CHAPTER TEN
He’s gone.
Alex clung to Hunter as grief filled every corner of his body, rendering him incapable of anything but shaking and thinking he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone over and over again. Shudders overtook Alex, overcoming even tears. Intellectually he’d known this was coming, but every time he’d seen Mack, the man had convinced him he would pull through and be fine. Why did I believe him when he said to go? Alex knew the answer almost before asking the question. Because Mack didn’t want Alex to fret, worry, and hover. It wasn’t the man’s style. So stop your goddamn trembling and crying right now. He knew Mack wouldn’t want it.
Hunter held Alex to his front and rubbed big circles into his bare back, soothing without words. His warmth engulfed Alex and kept away the freeze wanting to seep into his bones and take hold. The man held him with such sure strength, and for just a moment longer, Alex let himself sink into Hunter and clutch him tighter, knowing that soon enough he would have to stand up and take care of business on his own. Right now, though, for just one more minute, Alex buried his face into Hunter’s neck and gave in to the suppressed sobs racking his frame.
Memories of dozens of pivotal moments with Mack at the center of them flew through Alex’s mind and shoved his loss into overload. Fucking stubborn, Mack. Why did you make me leave you? Picture-perfect clarity of the thousands of seemingly inconsequential days they’d spent together -- that when put together created what made them an unbreakable team -- flooded Alex’s brain and seeped into his very being, attacking him with overwhelming love and trust he would never experience again. Messy, loud, ugly tears took control, ripping raw emotion from such a deep place inside Alex felt as if the loss tore guts and organs from his body. No. Don’t do this to yourself. Alex suddenly stiffened and struggled against Hunter’s embrace. Mack wouldn’t like this.
Tattered and broken inside, feeling stripped bare, Alex pulled away from Hunter. He pushed himself up a step and took a deep breath of cleansing air. “Sorry about that.” He wiped the hated wetness from his face and then smacked his cheeks to bring some life back to them. “It’s okay to let go of yourself for a few minutes, but then you have to suck it up and drive on.” He tried to smile, but as he worked to swallow down more tears clawing to get out, Alex feared his smile pulled into something twisted and wrong. “That’s what Mack always used to say.”
Hunter’s answering grin seemed tremulous too. Still kneeling in front of Alex, he brushed the backs of his undamaged fingers against Alex’s cheek. “It’s an army expression.”
“Is it? I didn’t know that. I should have guessed it, though. Mack is” -- Alex lost the battle, and a rough sob escaped -- “was army.”
“I wasn’t aware.” Hunter squeezed Alex’s knee.
“I hadn’t told you. Why would you know? I never really told anyone about Mack,” Alex admitted. “Just a few people who had to know where I was and how to reach me whenever I visited him. He was for me, you know? I didn’t want to share that valuable time we had together.” His heart suddenly struck with a sharp, stabbing pain, Alex grabbed at his chest. “I wonder if that was a mistake?” Holy shit, no. Alex sat up straighter, his heart sick. “Maybe he thought I was ashamed of him.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“God, I hope not.” Sighing, Alex scrubbed his face with his hands. He felt like he hadn’t slept in months. “It would be the biggest regret in my life if I ever found out he died thinking I was trying to hide him. Hell” -- Alex shot up and rushed into the house, his mind running a dozen steps ahead of his heart now -- “I have a lot to do. I have to arrange a flight back to Georgia, and I have to start thinking about what I have to do when I get there.” He threw on his shirt, but with the buttons torn off, he left it hanging open. After that, he grabbed his shoes and socks and went to sit on the windowsill so he could put them on.
Hunter shadowed the floor in front of him, and Alex found his mouth running to fill the silence. “I would have mom
ents where I knew I should have some plans in place for his death, but I refused to do it because I didn’t want to face that he really would eventually die. Now I’ll have to figure it all out in record time.” Bullet points quickly started ticking in Alex’s mind. “I’ve never been responsible for the aftermath of anyone dying before.” He closed his eyes and let out an unsteady breath. When he blinked, he found Hunter crouching in front of him once more. “Definitely not anyone I loved,” he said, his voice now a raspy whisper.
Hunter rubbed Alex’s thigh. The contact roused the bruising skin below, a reminder of the incredible, maybe disturbing, level of intimacy they’d shared such a short while ago.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Hunter asked. “To Georgia. To help you lay Mack to rest, I mean?”
This time Alex’s heart careened to a halt for an entirely different reason. “With how… With…” Son of a bitch. Alex couldn’t forget the scars he’d seen riddling Hunter’s chest and stomach, nor the lighter burn he’d drilled straight into his bare flesh. Alex grazed his fingers across Hunter’s shirt where he knew that burn still existed. “I know you have struggles of your own. Do you think coming with me is the wisest choice for you right now?”
“God’s honest truth?” Hunter’s lips thinned, and his entire face filled with tension. “I don’t know.” His admission actually made Alex breathe easier. Hunter soothed Alex’s leg with his touch again, and his dark gaze held steady and true. “All I know is that you need someone, and I want to be that guy for you. I see you in pain right now, and all I want to do is comfort you in any way you’ll let me. In any way I’m capable.” He grasped his hands loosely around Alex’s fingers, swinging them between them. “I’m there if you want me.”
Alex lifted Hunter’s hands and pressed kisses to the back of one and the glove covering the other. “I want you,” he said. As soon as he did, a little bit of the unbearable tightness left his chest, and his next breath didn’t hurt quite so much.
Hunter pecked a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “Okay.” He took his hands back and walked backward to the open door. “Then I’ll go pack a bag and make a few calls. I’ll meet you at your trailer in an hour.”
“Thank you. Hunt, I…” Alex jumped up. Hunter paused, clearly waiting, but whatever phrase lived in Alex’s heart wouldn’t come out. Not right now. “Just, thank you.”
Hunter dipped his head. “Thanks aren’t necessary. I’ll see you soon.”
As soon as Hunter left, tears pushed hard behind Alex’s eyes and threatened to fall again. God, Mack. Love swelled within Alex and strangled his throat. No. Cry later. Work now. Alex blinked and blinked and blinked until he successfully held himself together. He then made his first call.
* * * *
The moment Alex stepped up to the dais to pay his respects to Mack, he got his first full glimpse of the small funeral home packed to the rafters and could not find his voice. Mack had never talked much about his work, although Alex had eventually learned Mack worked with veterans. Mack didn’t like to share the details of his job with others. He’d said, “Work is work, and home is home. Don’t bring one with you to the other.” Mack had never really brought people into his house either, so Alex had always considered him a solitary man at heart, much the way Alex privately considered himself. Today Alex knew better. And he was so fucking proud.
Row after row after row of men and women in uniforms, many with their spouses, not only filled the pews of this room but stood along the sidewalls and lined the back of the space, all come to pay their respects to the wonderful man who was the star of the show today. Most had already stood up and shared a few words or a story about how Mack had stuck with them through all kinds of situations that involved figuring out a way to get past government red tape to get the help they needed to live their new lives outside of active duty. Many of their tales filled the room with laughter, but when it came to sharing their gratitude for Mack, not an eye remained dry in the house.
Now Alex had the burden of sharing with a bunch of strangers -- who were not that to Mack -- what Mack meant to him. In his Boston offices, Alex could command a room of a hundred people without blinking or breaking a sweat. But he’d never had to open up to any of those people about Mack. This was different. I have to get this right.
Alex scanned the many faces, so full of expectations, and crazy bubbles of panic erupted in his belly. He thought he might vomit. Alex finally landed on one familiar face in the front row -- his lifeline these past two days -- and his stomach immediately started to settle. The proud tilt of Hunter’s chin and his focused, dark eyes guided Alex to find his center again. Hunter, in his army dress uniform, subtly nodded. He mouthed Take your time. Whatever you say will be perfect.
Right. Alex let every second he’d spent in Mack’s company lift him up, as the man himself had done so many times in Alex’s life. Alex cleared his throat and faced the crowd again. “I’ll start by saying this: Mack hated it when I got mushy on him, so he’s not going to be too happy with me in a few minutes.” Alex reached out and touched the easel holding Mack’s picture. “I loved this special man. He hated when I told him that, so of course, I found ways to tell him as much as I could. He’d call me punk or boy, and in return I nicknamed him old man…”
* * * *
Hunter stood with Alex outside the corrections facility, waiting with the man while he worked out in his mind whether he wanted to go inside. Alex had been through a lot in the past three days. They’d just come from seeing Mack’s lawyer, who had produced a letter Alex couldn’t let himself read quite yet. He’d said he knew what was inside it anyway: an order from Mack for Alex to make amends with his mother.
“You don’t have to see her today,” Hunter said. He could not miss the way Alex hung back from the gates. Hunter wouldn’t be surprised if a guard came and said something to them again. “You’re not even sure what Mack’s letter says.”
“No. I know,” Alex replied. “Aside from that, it’s visiting day.” He looked through the tall, barbed-wire fence to the drab gray buildings beyond. “It’s like I’m supposed to be here.”
Shoulder to shoulder, Hunter studied the prison too. “All right.”
Alex exhaled, shook out his shoulders, and stepped up to the gate. “I’m going to go in now.” He even jabbed the visitor buzzer.
Hunter pointed across a pebbled quad. “I’ll wait for you right on that bench over there.”
Nodding, Alex breathed visibly again. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Hunter backed away as a guard opened the gate.
As Hunter walked to their designated meeting place, he did some breathing exercises too. Once again he silently reminded himself to stay focused on Alex. If he could, he would get through this without incident.
From the moment Hunter had acted on impulse and asked Alex if he needed someone at his side, Hunter had approached comforting Alex like any mission he’d undertaken as part of a unit overseas. Back then he would break the mission into manageable pieces and focus on getting the job done one stage at a time. So far he had tackled helping Alex the same way -- one day, sometimes one hour, at a time. Any time Hunter felt his own emotions slipping in, if he began to think about how he’d burdened Sarah with far too many details in arranging their mother’s funeral, if his sympathy for Alex turned to empathy and induced the gripping need to cut himself, Hunter would slam it all down and refocus entirely on Alex and his loss. This isn’t about me. It’s about him. The mission is assisting, lending an ear, and taking care of Alex in his time of need. Hunter had spoken that mantra countless times since arriving in Georgia. So far it had worked.
Even when sharing a pile of blankets as a bed on Mack’s living room floor. Alex wasn’t ready to sleep in Mack’s bed, he’d said, and Hunter certainly didn’t feel comfortable doing it either. The couch didn’t fold out, so they shared the floor. Alex had said he would put Hunter up at a hotel. Hunter could see the man wanted to be in his childhood home, though, and Hunter’s missio
n required close proximity to Alex, so Hunter had assured Alex that compared to some of the places he’d slept in Iraq and Afghanistan, the floor was luxury.
They shared blankets, pillows, the remote control, and often whispers in the dead of night when neither could sleep. They had not engaged in sex. In those dark, quiet moments, just being near enough to hear the other person breathe dug under Hunter’s skin deeper than fucking Alex twice had. Those were the times Hunter had to continually refocus his thoughts on Alex and his needs or risk spiraling into panic when he thought about how much this time with Alex changed their relationship to something far more intimate than fuck buddies.
Never far away, the knife in Hunter’s pocket provided solace. He fingered the blade right then, needing a dose of security, but stared at the prison a hundred yards away and centered his thoughts on Alex’s struggle behind those walls. Two more nights at his side -- that was the duration of his mission. Forty-eight more hours of Hunter making sure he gave Alex everything he needed. Hunter could do it. Alex had them scheduled for a return flight to Montana after that. Beyond that Hunter didn’t know how the hell he would keep from harming himself when he got home.
