Any other time, heat would flood my groin. The promise of a spanking from him gets me hard. Except for now.
He launches into another coughing fit, and it scares the shit out of me. No matter how hard I try not to think about him dying, I can’t.
“Just eat, please.”
He finishes about half the meal before pushing the rest my way. “Your turn.”
“No, you need it more.”
He goes to stand up, staring me down and I take the rest of the food, shoving some into my mouth. Anything to get him to rest.
And he calls me stubborn.
Fucking old goat is worse than I am.
After swallowing the last bite, I grab the medicine and hold out the green cough syrup and sleeping pills, but he shakes his head.
My chest constricts as if I’m buried under a pile of bricks, jaw clenching so tightly my teeth might fucking crack. “Rex, please?"
“Can’t believe all I had to do was get sick to knock that defiant little shit attitude out of you.” He takes the two bottles, then gulps down the cough syrup. "Jesus. Damn Nyquil is fuckin’ expired."
He reads the label on the pills twice before taking two and washing them down with some water. "Happy now?"
“Yeah.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. For once, I don’t scoff or roll my eyes. Instead, I lean into it, my eyes drifting shut.
“Going soft on me, boy?”
“You wish.”
He chuckles, then slumps back on the bed, tugging the blanket up real high. He eyes me as if waiting for me to join, but I stand, then grab my pack.
"Where the hell do you think you’re going?"
"Hunting. Didn’t find much food, and we’re running low."
"Won't find much. Everything is going to ground for winter."
I shrug. "We'll see 'bout that."
I gotta be a little defiant or he might catch onto my lie. I don’t need him worrying about what I’m actually hunting—because like fuck am I going to let anything hurt him. Or have the bastard try to stop me.
He’s mine to protect.
Hopping out of the window and onto the porch roof, I climb to the ground, then head off toward the warehouse district, making sure to cover our earlier tracks to the house.
I take the long way, making sure I’m not tracked. I’m not making the same mistake again, not when Rex is in no shape to protect himself.
No one’s touching what’s mine.
Ever.
The warehouse we bunked in last night is empty, so I settle outside near the entrance behind some stacked crates. Sooner or later those two pricks will show up. I just gotta be patient.
It ain’t long before they come into view.
Patched clothes. Deep scars across their faces. A string of ears as necklaces.
