While I’m still getting used to the layout of my new house—and isn’t that fucking weird to say—Hollis clearly has everything figured out. There’s no hesitation as he goes straight totheirroom, even as my stomach sours from that thought. Jealousy has no place in these types of relationships, but I’m dreading sleeping alone.
I stumble to a stop when I see Tennant lounging in the bed, his shirt off and pants way lower than is decent, becausefuck. I blush when Hollis coughs, and I drag my gaze away from his lover. Thankfully, Hollis’s eyes show more amusement than anything. At least, it’s replaced the pitying looks people seem to insist on giving me.
Hollis crooks his finger at me as he sits on the edge of the bed. I come closer, watching him warily as I can’t get a bead on his emotions now that the amusement has fled. When I’m in front of him, he studies me carefully. I’m not sure what he sees. I’ve tried to hide what happened all day, but thanks to fucking Antonio, it's out there for all to see.
I shrink when he frowns at me, dropping my eyes immediately.Shit. Is he going to throw me away now? I would. How the hell I didn’t kill Il Padrone… Yet, I can’t. I don’t want to do that. Shame, embarrassment, and fear twist in my stomach.
I vaguely hear Tennant’s words to Hollis, but given they’re Italian, they go right over my head.Maybe I should learn Gaelic to fuck with them. Hollis’s low rumble doesn’t ease my anxiety either. I shiver as I struggle to stay present, but my mind keeps wanting to tug me into the past. Hands suddenly land on my shoulders and I jerk, whimpering.
“Mostrotto.”
I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them, and when I lift my head, I’m surprised to see that Tennant was somehow able to shift positions to where he’s now at the edge of the bed as well. His hands roughly massage my shoulders as I meet his gaze, falling into their icy depth. My breath shudders as he suddenly pulls me forward and I’m engulfed in his strong arms. Without missing a beat, Hollis’s joins them, encapsulating me even more.
And I fucking break.
Deep sobs crawl up my throat, unleashing a torrent of pain. I can’t stop them. I can’t hold back the way my body shakes from the memories, the pain, the fear. They hug me tighter as my soul fractures.
The way I miss my Master, and the self-hatred of knowing that. The way I can still feel his touch—the gentleness of it, the heated moments, and then that last time…the pain. Fuck. That pain. It was more than the bruises he left, it was the utter destruction of what we had. Yet, somehow, I’m fucked enough in the head to miss him. I choke on the shame of it, positive I’ll die from this. Fuck knows I don’t want to live. I’ve put one foot in front of the other for those around me, but is it selfish that I want to just lay it all down? To give up.
“I…I can’t do this,” I grit out, but neither let me go, even as I begin to struggle against them.
“Shh, Mostrotto. We have you.”
The last pieces of me snap and I cease fighting. Instead, I scramble up onto Tennant’s lap, fumbling as I go until he falls back with me on top of him, and Hollis is half on me and half on the bed. I swallow hard as I draw in lungfuls of Tennant’s scent, using it as a touchstone.
He doesn’t say a word as I shower him in my tears of rage, of betrayal. At that moment, my previous anger toward him disappears completely, and I finally understand what Benjamin sees in him. Hell, a small part of me falls for him myself, because he may be a psychopath, but fuck if I haven’t ever felt safer than I am in his arms.
Eventually, the tears dry up, and I’m surprised that’s even possible. It takes longer for my breathing to even out, but I finally get there when I twist around until my ear is pressed against Tennant’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart. I focus on it, allowing mine to sync with his. I focus on the strength of the two men holding me. And this time, when I let go, it’s not tobreak, but to build myself back up. Because, fuck, these two may just be the ones who remind me to keep going.
I don’t know what’s to come, whether I can live without my Master. Whether he can change back into someone who deserves that title. But maybe, just maybe, I can give my troubles to Tennant and Hollis, and let them carry me when I can’t walk. Maybe it’s not weak. Maybe…
My thoughts slow as Hollis switches to his side completely. He keeps his hand on me though as he slowly strokes my back. The rhythmic petting and cuddles drag me under, and finally, I find comfort in the darkness, my mind shutting off. But before unconsciousness steals me, I mumble what I hope is a thank you, because fuck knows, I’m not sure what I’d do without my Sir and a psychopath who understands love far more than others…
The little Boss doesn’t stay asleep for long, but I didn’t expect him to. Despite how exhausted he is, his monsters won’t allow him to rest, not when the source of his pain is also the one who always gave him comfort and solace. I’ve dealt with enough of Hollis’s nightmares over the years to know how the mind can be a dark and twisted place. All the pain and stress Emilio’s been carrying for far too long have no barriers to stop them when he's asleep.
When he stirs and realizes he’s being touched, he jerks and tries to escape my hold, but I simply tighten my arms, making soothing sounds while Hollis runs his fingers through Emilio’s honey colored hair, and eventually, he calms enough to lay quietly in my arms once more.
“You can let me go,” he says quietly. “I…can go back to my room. Or Benjamin’s. I’ve taken up enough of your time and?—”
“Stop,” Hollis chides gently. “You're not going anywhere, Cucciolo. You're mine, and you belong where I am.”
Emilio shudders. “You…you know what happened to me. What good am I now? Wh—what if I can't… I don't even want to be touched by Benjamin. What if I can't give you what you want?”
He tries to wiggle out of my grasp again, and this time, I let him. He doesn't go far, sitting on the bed, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around himself.
“The only thing I—” Hollis looks at me and then back to Emilio before correcting himself. “The only thingwewant is to take care of you. Sex, no sex, on your knees or not, you are what matters most, Emilio.”
“Lio,” he says softly. “I think you two are the only ones who still insist on calling me Emilio, but…Lio is fine.”
Broadcasting each movement, I sit up and edge closer to him. Careful not to touch him, I note the way he flinches and it only makes me wish I had Allesandro in one of my torture rooms. I’d work him over slowly. Keep him for a month, maybe a year, however long it takes to work through the current rage filling my system.
“Did you know that Emilio means ‘rival’ or ‘eager’? It comes from Latin. Il tuo nome è bello quanto te. Whatever we call or don't call you, it doesn't take away how we feel about you.”
“Both of you?”
I grin. “You've impressed me from the very beginning, Little Monster. I like what I see. It's as simple as that.”
“I…I don't know what to do anymore… I… Don’t know if I can do this.”
