Little (Trenton Security Book 2)

by J. M. Dabney

  It was too much, and his temples were starting to pound. Exhaustion started to pull him under, but he wasn’t ready to leave Poe. He wanted to go home.

  “I want to go home.”

  “You will. The doctors just want to make sure they clear whatever Carrington gave you out of your system. Then we’ll go home. I missed you in our bed.”

  He loved the sound of that. Even though he’d given Poe his access code and remote, he hadn’t thought his man would want to move in while he was gone.

  “You’ve been staying at my place?”

  “Where else would I stay? Now, you get some rest. I want my man to be healthy.”

  “I’m sorry if you were worried.”

  “Harmon, I’m going to worry. I care about you, and it comes with the package.”

  “I do love the package.”

  “Keep it under your gown until we get home.”

  He groaned at Poe’s playful warning. The confidence that he wasn’t back in that clinic drove him to prove his reality was there with Poe. As he fought the oblivion that threatened to drag him back into the darkness, he focused on the touch of Poe’s soft hands and even softer lips. Poe seemed to understand that he needed the tether and loved on him until the abyss pulled him back to the uncertainty of sleep.

  His Man Was Finally Home

  They hadn’t stayed in the hospital long, four days at the most, but he’d thought Harmon needed a few more. Peaches had been by to visit a few times to keep them up to date with what was going on. He didn’t care. His man was home. He adjusted the blanket around Harmon and stroked Harmon’s forehead. A few weeks had eclipsed, and all his man had done was sleep. Whatever they’d given Harmon had sent the man into a violent bout of withdrawal. The first week had Gibson coming to examine his man at least once a day.

  The doctors were positive there wouldn’t be any lasting effects from the drugs and shock therapy. But they also couldn’t say what the injections were, and it would take a while to work through the research files.

  His eyes burned at the thought of the pain Harmon suffered. How could someone hurt another human being the way Carrington had?

  The evidence piling up had been enough to sink Carrington if the man had survived. The stories of the men and women inside the facility were nightmare-inducing. Linus had turned over some heavily edited footage of the operation. Some people were omitted like Horace and Freddie since there was some past criminal activity. He’d learned Alex was a former SEAL turned successful businessman. Peaches explained that they didn’t want the people who assisted them to be mired down in the legalities.

  Charges weren’t brought yet, and Peaches was confident it wouldn’t come to that. It turned out that Peaches had some friends in murky places. They’d also made a deal they’d turn over all evidence that pertained to the case. Well, whatever they deemed pertinent.

  He eased down on the side of the bed and rubbed Harmon’s chest. Harmon seemed to calm when he was close, and he had no intention of leaving any time soon. Working from his side of Harmon’s bed as the man slept.

  “Are you real?” Harmon asked without opening his eyes.

  The smallest effort seemed to tire Harmon out, and it worried him. It didn’t appear that Harmon was getting any better. Every time Harmon awakened the man asked him was he real.

  “Very much so, baby.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  The steadier tone of Harmon’s voice eased him, but not enough to push away all his worry. The healthy color of his face was back and with the steady meals, Harmon’s angles weren’t as harsh.

  “This time, a few hours.”

  “I need to piss, and I fucking stink.”

  His man was so eloquent, but at least his man was becoming more himself.

  “You want help or try it yourself?”

  “I gotta do it myself.”

  He had the urge to argue but didn’t want to make Harmon feel weak. Harmon had taken care of himself long before he’d come along.

  “Want a smoke and then dinner?”

  He chuckled at Harmon’s almost obscene moan and was jealous he hadn’t caused it.

  “I’d kill for a smoke and an energy drink.”

  “Both I can do, Lily keeps coming by. It isn’t like you’re going to run out anytime soon.”

  Lily was slowly breaking, and it was almost as bad as remembering the sobs Peaches had let out when she’d seen Harmon the first time after the rescue. Peaches hadn’t appeared to be able to touch Harmon enough. Kissed his face and checked every inch of him for wounds. Brushed the slight burns on the man’s temples. He didn’t blame her. When he’d found out they were putting Harmon through Electroshock when they’d entered the room, he’d felt horrified. Two rounds from what the bastard’s recordings had revealed.

  Hundreds of tapes were left to go through, and in some ways, Harmon’s treatment had been better than others—which disturbed him. Bodies were starting to add up. People not as strong as Harmon who hadn’t survived the stages of the so-called treatments.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Better, but you being asleep every time she comes by is taking its toll on her.”

  “Call her?”

  He leaned over Harmon and used the backs of his fingers to stroke the coarse beard that covered Harmon’s cheeks. “Take your shower, and while I get everything ready for you, I’ll give her a call. Yell if you need me, don’t push yourself too much.”

  “I promise. Can you make an appointment for me to get groomed?”

  “Way ahead of you. If you can stay awake, I’ll take you into Powers. Hawthorne is expecting you.”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “It will never be good enough.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, please.”

  He stroked his lips across the blunt fringe of Harmon’s wet lashes. “Don’t cry, baby, I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m concerned. I want my crazy Harmon Little back, and I’m here until that happens.”

  He’d lost count of how many times he wanted to tell Harmon that he loved him again, but since Harmon came home, he’d noticed his man’s insecurity grew in intensity. The man seemed to lose himself. Forget where he was and it was worse when he woke up until reality became clearer. That was one of the reasons he’d taken to working from the bed. He was there to reassure Harmon that he wasn’t still at the mercy of Carrington and the drugs.

  Emotional and mental exhaustion weighed him down, but he didn’t obsess over it. He’d pasted a smile on his face no matter how much he didn’t feel it just to make sure his man was secure. He hated hiding things from Harmon.

  “I thought you were a hallucination when you came to visit. I’m scared you’re not real, that meeting you at all wasn’t real.”

  “I’m very much real.”

  Harmon had tried to initiate sex a few times, but his baby wasn’t ready. He’d just upped his affection to soothe his man with plenty of kisses and touches. He’d witnessed too much flinching to push his man too soon.

  “Take your shower and don’t push too much, you’re still healing.”

  He gave his man one more kiss and let it linger. Then he forced himself away. He made his way to the kitchen and removed a joint from one of the baggies Lily had dropped off. He placed that plus an energy drink and bottle of juice on the broken coffee table. They needed to get some new furniture for the place. He’d even stocked the fridge with real food. He’d sort of taken over since he’d practically moved in.

  He flopped down on the couch and picked his phone up from the cluttered surface. He opened his recent calls, and Lily was the last one. He connected the call and waited for the woman to answer.

  “Is my son awake?”

  It was the same question she asked every time they talked. She didn’t care about polite small talk.

  “Yes, and he’s asking for you.”

  “Damon and me will be right there.”

  He didn’t even check to see if the call disconnected bec
ause he knew she’d hung up on him. He opened his laptop to work on a report and distract himself for a few minutes. He listened to the whine of the pipes when the shower started upstairs. The steady tap of his fingers on the keys hypnotized him, and he lost himself in the repetition of his work.

  The squeak of the bedroom door made him jerk his gaze to the metal landing. He pushed himself up and rushed to the stairs. He was halfway up when Harmon held his hand up.

  “No, if I fall, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  He didn’t want to obey but didn’t want to make Harmon feel weak. His hands painfully clenched around the safety railing on either side of the steps. He inhaled and held it as he counted steps, then he tensed as Harmon seemed to trip but quickly caught himself. Once Harmon was a few steps above him, he reversed until his feet rested on the cement of the floor.

  “Lily and Damon are on their way, actually they should be here any minute. I got distracted with work.”

  “You shouldn’t be missing work for me.”

  “Harmon, I’m not missing anything. Don’t even try to start an argument.”

  “But don’t couples make up after they fight?”

  A sexy smirk stretched Harmon’s gorgeous mouth, and he closed the few steps of distance between them. Harmon was shirtless and his skin slightly damp from his shower and exertion.

  “I miss you.” Harmon groaned as their mouths met.

  “I’m right here.”

  He tilted his chin and pushed his lips to Harmon’s. His tongue sensuously stroked across the full curved of Harmon’s mouth.

  “But I want you to love on me.”

  That beautiful whine was so sexy that he couldn’t help his body’s response to it. His cock tented the cotton of the pajama bottoms he’d borrowed from Harmon. He raised his hands to Harmon’s sides and turned him until they were flush. He dug his short nails into Harmon’s flesh and savored the deep groan.

  “Harmon.”

  They groaned together at the sound of Lily’s voice.

  “I need a minute, go spend some time with Lily and I’ll be right back.”

  He didn’t wait for Harmon to protest and he jogged up the steps, then he slammed the door shut to lean back on it. He adjusted his hard cock and cursed his lack of control. Harmon didn’t have to do more than say his name, and he wanted his man. He strode across the room and pulled open the drawer. Without thinking too much, he removed a condom and a small bottle of lube. He tucked them into his pocket.

  Guilt momentary assailed him at the thought of taking his man too soon, but he had other plans. He returned downstairs to the pungent smell of weed. He noticed Damon in the recliner watching Lily on the couch with Harmon’s head on her lap.

  She stroked Harmon’s hair in a motherly way, and he looked so content. He grabbed a chair from beside the kitchen table and set it beside Damon.

  Harmon and Lily spoke in hushed tones.

  “Thanks for calling, Poe. She hasn’t been herself, and I missed my Lily.”

  Damon’s love deepened his voice, and the adoration on the man’s face awed him. They’d been married for decades, and the love between the couple was tangible and sweet. He was surrounded by so much happiness, and he’d never really stopped to take it in.

  “No need to thank me. I think Harmon needed to see her too. His mother should be here.”

  “I’ll never forget the look on Lily’s face the first time she saw Harmon. It was the same expression of love she had for Linus, then with the twins, Lucky and Lou after she’d given birth. Don’t get me wrong, she loves all the kids we’ve adopted as parental figures, but Harmon was different.”

  “He’s an amazing man who doesn’t know it.”

  “That night is when I learned exactly what a gift Lily was to others. To me, she’s been my everything, and I truly didn’t understand she was that for others too. My heart broke when I saw the joy on his face as Lily hugged him and told him she wasn’t ready for him to go home yet.”

  He took Damon’s hand and laced their fingers as they watched mother and son on the couch. In the interaction between the two, he saw his Harmon coming to life. The harshness was softening as the man reveled in Lily’s love. She bent forward and brushed her lips to Harmon’s forehead, hugging him to her stomach.

  “I love you, son.”

  “I love you too, Mama.” Harmon sounded so small.

  Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. Family had nothing to do with blood, and sometimes the most powerful expressions of familial love were between the people who chose each other. This was what he’d been there for—meant to be a part of Harmon’s life. He accepted Damon’s hug but didn’t stop watching his man soak up Lily’s attention.

  Home is Where Love Exists

  Harmon had a lot of time to think over the past few weeks. The nightmares were still there. That feeling of helplessness was suffocating him and the guilt he didn’t feel for killing a man. Carrington wouldn’t have stopped because he believed the people he’d experimented on were no more important than data applied to a numbered file.

  He was relaxed from his smoke session with Lily and stared up at the steel beams of the ceiling. The darkness had seemed to close in on him, and he’d taken to keeping the spotlights on, but he’d turned them down when Poe had fallen asleep beside him. His man was curled into a ball under a blanket.

  Life wasn’t the way he had seen it, his past and insecurities had mired him in the bad experiences, made them the largest memories he had. He’d felt shame for so many years, seventeen years of blaming himself for surviving. If his friends could see inside his head, they’d be shocked. Yes, he was crazy and didn’t think before he acted, but all of that had hidden his truth.

  It had been to keep people away. He’d let the insanity out like a neon sign telling everyone to keep back. That wasn’t what happened. He’d found a mother, not just a maternal figure, but a mother who loved him in all his weirdness. A team and family, plus a man all his own.

  He knew he probably wouldn’t ever get over his past. Too many scars remained, but he had to learn to accept.

  “Your thinking woke me up,” Poe whined.

  He glanced down to study Poe as the man cutely rubbed his eyes, and he gently put Poe’s glasses back on so the man could see.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be…this is the longest you’ve been awake since I brought you home. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think”—he paused—“I keep thinking of all the shit I missed out on over the years and took for granted. The first time I tried to kill myself I was thirteen. It was my first night on the streets. I was curled up in a storm drain. My foster family had called to send me back. I couldn’t understand why no one wanted to keep me. I lost my virginity a week later for what amounted to one night of a full belly.”

  “Are those what the marks on your forearm mean?”

  Poe lifted his arm to brush his lips against the marks then repeated on the other, and he knew they were still raised and raw after all the time that passed. The numerous scars were reminders not only of survival but his self-loathing. No matter how much ink he’d covered them with, they still existed.

  “There’s one for each person who used me. I even added a new one after the stalker thing. I hadn’t cut myself in so long. You’re the first person I’ve told what they mean.”

  He relaxed into the cushions as Poe sat up and then shifted to straddle his lap.

  “Your secret is safe with me. Do you know what I thought the first time we met?”

  “That you were going to die?”

  He felt a bit lighter at Poe’s husky laugh and slow smile, as if the man were content.

  “Well, that too. I couldn’t get over how adorable you were.”

  He groaned and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. “Adorable, cute, they’re kisses of death.”

  Poe pushed against his chest and giggled. “No, not at all. Even though I was frightened about being snatched by some crazy man w
ho had a friend who gave body disposal tips, deep down there was something about you. It’s the reason I called you. I’d agonized over it. Said to myself, Poe, there is no way that man wants you.”

  “Poe.” He wanted to stop him. He didn’t like when Poe talked bad about himself. To him, the smaller man was just right.

  “No, I learned something from you. A lesson that no one else ever got through to me. That I was enough. Just me, just Solomon Poe. In all my geekiness and chubbiness, I was enough. I wanted to do that for you, but then I realized you didn’t need me to validate you. Earlier, with you and Lily, I saw the real Harmon Little. A boy who was lost but found his way long before I came along. You just hadn’t realized it, Harmon.”

  He lifted his head until his gaze met Poe’s. “I was thinking. I focused so much on the fucking mistakes I made that I never really thought about the fact that my life is pretty good. I got parental units, family, and you. You were the biggest surprise. You wanted to keep me.”

  “I always want to keep you, Harmon, even if you don’t get it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you, Harmon, every crazy, dysfunctional square inch of you. From your gorgeous eyes that don’t hide what you’re feeling to the tips of your ugly as fuck feet.”

  He didn’t think it was physically possible to have all the oxygen driven from his lungs by three simple words. Words that no more amounted to single syllables but powerful enough to bring men to their knees. He felt embarrassed by it—unworthy of it.

  “Ouch, that was so mean. You say you love me, compliment my eyes and then insult me seconds later.”

  “I love the flaws as well as all the pretty parts. You don’t have to say it. I’m not rushing you. I needed you to know, nothing more. No expectations.”

  He felt like an asshole, but even as the phrase formed perfectly in his mind, his tongue and lips wouldn’t conform to the words. Terrified that he hadn’t been rescued at all. Poe was the flawless construct of what he wanted his person to be. That he’d always been in that facility and even now still was. Since his rescue, those were the nightmares he suffered through.