“But Stack did notice.” Payne tapped the backs of Hunter’s thighs lightly with the cane. “What happened next?”
Hunter had fallen once again into the blackness of his memories, and it was a physical effort to get each word out. “We disarmed nine of the bombs and put the C4 in an anti-ballistic box so if something blew, at least those wouldn’t go up too. When we were down to the last brick, it should have been just like a regular disarm. Cut the wire, remove the detonator, and there you go. We got the kid out of it, and he fell to the ground, bawling. Stack was trying to comfort him, but when I popped my helmet…”
He could hear it again, that beeping. The noise had become anathema to him. He’d thrown his alarm clock across the room the first time the damned thing had gone off after he’d returned home.
Whack!Payne wasn’t going easy on Hunter anymore, and when he spoke, his tone was stern and implacable. “Keep going. What happened when you took off your helmet?”
The pain of the blow seared across his skin, and Hunter cried out. “Beeping! I heard the goddamned thing beeping! I yelled a warning and pushed the kid back, but then Stack pushed me. I fell across the kid, and Stack… he did it on purpose! He fell on the damned bomb and covered it. His ballistic suit took most of the force, but his damned helmet was open! It blew his head off.” Hunter went limp against the restraints, and he could barely speak past the sobs being ripped from his throat, almost as painful as the welts on his ass as he confronted the image that still haunted him, replaying before his eyes like a movie stuck in an endless loop. “It blew my best friend’s head off and I couldn’t do a fucking thing to stop it!”
Gentle hands pushed the blindfold up and off, bringing him out of the darkness. Then Payne knelt and unfastened the ankle restraints first, followed by the thigh cuffs.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, stroking Hunter’s back. “You did great. I’m going to take the wrist cuffs off. If you don’t feel like you can stand up, lean against the cross. It can take your weight. Then I’ll help you once you’re free.”
Despite the return of light, Hunter could barely see. His vision was blurred by tears — the first tears he’d shed since Stack’s death. His emotional armor was gone, and pain and guilt rolled over him. On some level, he heard Payne’s words, and when his wrists were free, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the cross as he bit back his sobs. He was beyond anything but his pain, not of his body but of his soul.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed. You were so brave to face that, and I’m proud of you,” Payne said as he tucked himself under Hunter’s arm, helped him off the cross, and guided him to the door.
Hunter leaned on Payne, needing the support. His knees felt weak, and his breath came in shuddering gasps. He lifted his free hand to his face, squeezing his eyes shut and letting Payne guide him. Payne walked him to the guest bedroom and stopped next to the bed so he could yank back the covers with one hand.
“Climb on in,” he said, gently coaxing Hunter into bed. “I’ll take off my boots and join you.”
It seemed an enormous effort, but Hunter did as he was hold, climbing into the big bed and collapsing on the mattress. He was no longer sobbing, but he couldn’t seem to stop the flow of tears. As soon as his boots were off, Payne climbed in and drew the covers up around them.
“Let it out,” Payne murmured as he wrapped his arms around Hunter and nestled against him, offering the comfort of his warm presence. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Hunter had never considered himself a person who needed physical comfort; he’d been injured numerous times, had suffered the deaths of friends and come through without having to lean on anyone. He was a strong person, he knew it, but for once his strength had deserted him, and he wrapped his arms around Payne in turn as his tears soaked into Payne’s shirt. The dam had burst, and everything he’d bottled up was flowing out, and he was unable to stop it.
Payne held him close and stroked his hair, occasionally murmuring words of comfort. He offered Hunter solace and let him grieve without judgment. Hunter wasn’t certain how long they lay there, but eventually the tears stopped and Hunter was left feeling drained. Yet he felt relief as well, as though he’d finally released some of the pressure of grief that had been slowly crushing him from within.
His head was pillowed on Payne’s chest, and he clung to Payne like he was a big stuffed teddy bear. Hunter could hear the strong, steady beat of Payne’s heart, and his head rose and fell with the rhythm of Payne’s breath. He’d been vaguely aware of it while he’d wept, and he realized Payne had been the solid, steady anchor that had kept him from being consumed by his own pain.
“Thank you,” he said. The words seemed inadequate to express what Payne had done for him, but he had the feeling Payne would understand.
“You’re welcome.” Payne buried his fingers in Hunter’s hair and massaged his scalp gently. “I hope you feel a little better.”
Hunter closed his eyes and relaxed into the stroking, letting the comforting sensation help bring him back into himself. “I do. I feel some relief,” he said slowly. He wasn’t used to sharing his emotions with people other than Stack, but Payne had a right to know and also a need to know. If they were going to do this again, Hunter knew it was not only stupid but also potentially dangerous not to be completely honest with his Dom.
He sucked in a breath as he realized he thought of Payne that way. Hunter wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the thought, but it was there, and he couldn’t deny it.
“I’m glad.” Payne continued the gentle massage for a minute or so longer, and then he slid his hands down so he could stroke Hunter’s back. “It was a good first step. You were very brave.”
“Was I?” Hunter arched slightly into the stroking, enjoying the contact. “I didn’t feel brave. I felt… overwhelmed. Angry. Horrified.” He paused for a moment, considering. “And sad. I hadn’t been able to cry for him before. I don’t know if I’ve ever cried for anyone, not like that. But I never lost anyone so close to me before either. Stack was closer to me than my own brother.”
“You were brave for facing the anger, horror and sadness and letting yourself feel them for the first time,” Payne said, smoothing his palms up and down Hunter’s back as far as he could reach. “You were brave for being self-aware enough to realize you needed help and to try to find something that worked for you. You needed to grieve for him. There’s nothing weak about it.”
Hunter lay quietly for several long moments, enjoying the stroking. “Is it always this draining?” he asked. He started to feel the marks on his ass, and he wriggled slightly.
“Not always. But you’re working through some heavy emotional shit, so it’s going to be harder for you in the aftermath for now.” Payne gave him a questioning look. “Are you ready for some salve now? I can go get it right quick.”
“I would appreciate it.” Hunter reluctantly pulled back and attempted a version of Payne’s own wide-eyed look of appeal. “My bottom hurts.”
Payne chuckled at the sight of Hunter’s pitiful look. “The student is trying to become the master? You don’t have the choirboy face to pull it off, but it’s a good effort,” he said as he pushed back the covers and got out of bed. “Would you like anything else while I’m up? A bottle of water or something to eat?”
“Water, please?” Hunter asked, realizing he probably did need the hydration. “I’m not hungry.”
“Go ahead and roll onto your stomach,” Payne said. “I’ll be right back.”
Hunter did as instructed, pillowing his head on his crossed arms. The bed felt oddly empty without Payne in it. But in a matter of minutes, Payne returned, and he sat down on the bed beside Hunter.
