“How’s being stabbed?”
“Not very fun, I’m afraid.” Alistair smirked as he turned the water off. “I think it’ll be best if you stay here with me for a little while. At least until we clean up the mess at the house.”
By mess, Alistair meant acorpse.
“Uh…” Noah shuddered. “Yeah, uh, that’s fine, I guess.”
Alistair picked up a fluffy sponge and squirted lavender-scented body wash on it, soaping up around Noah’s neck and shoulders. “You’re welcome to borrow clothes and toiletries from me as you need.”
Noah relaxed into the gentle touch and breathed in the soothing scent, trying to will away the dirty feeling that had overcome him. “I’m gonna need my own stuff eventually. My phone. Shit, I keep forgetting my phone. I guess I just got used to not having it.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I can send someone to get your things if you’d like.”
“It’s okay.” Noah fidgeted. “If I’m gonna be crashing here for a while, I’d rather go get my own stuff, you know?”
“Mm, don’t trust my people to bring you a suitable wardrobe?”
“Hell no.” Noah managed a little smile. “Like they’re gonna know the difference between what’s actually in this year and what’s last year’s garbage that I haven’t thrown out yet.”
Alistair chuckled, rubbing the sponge down Noah arm, and then switching to the other. “Oh, they’re not that bad, are they?”
“Come on. Like you expect me to believe Junior dresses himself.”
“Fair.”
Noah closed his eyes. “It was you, wasn’t it? Picked out stuff for him?”
“Yes.”
“Knew it.”
“Perhaps we can take a trip back in a few days,” Alistair said. “That way you can select the proper clothing. I’d hate to think of you wearing something unfashionable.”
“I might die from embarrassment.” Noah laughed, but he stopped abruptly when he realized what he’d said. In light of almost being murdered tonight, it wasn’t very funny. He was nauseated, and he swallowed down around a knot that was rising in his throat.
“You’re safe now.” Alistair slid his hand over Noah’s and laced their fingers together. “All right? You’re safe here with me.”
“Yeah.” Noah’s eyes were hot, and he sniffed, trying to fight off the urge to break down crying. He didn’t want Alistair to see him like that, but the harder he tried, the worse it became.
“I’m right here,” Alistair said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words were the tipping point, though Noah wasn’t sure why. As soon as he heard them, he burst into tears. He drew his legs up and buried his face in his knees, sobbing until he could hardly breathe.
Alistair rubbed his back, leaning in to kiss his hair and hold him. “There, there, dear boy. It’s over now. It’s all over. I’m right here.”
“But everyone leaves,” Noah cried, now recognizing the source of his anguish and wailing in its wake. “Everyone always fuckin’ leaves me!”
“Not me, Noah,” Alistair swore fiercely. “Not me. Not Daddy.”
Noah leaned into him, crying harder than he had in years. All the stress and fear and anger from the last few days—no, from an entire lifetime—was pouring out of him, and he couldn’t stop. He cried until his eyes hurt and his chest stung, his sobbing eventually fading to soft whimpers.
Alistair lifted Noah’s head and dabbed his tears away with a handkerchief.
“Ugh. I’m sorry. Thank you.” Noah’s nose was stopped up, but he hated to blow it right now.
“Here.” Alistair held out the handkerchief.
Noah groaned lightly and took it, trying to turn away so he could blow his nose as discreetly as possible. The resulting sound was a pitiful barrage of wet trumpeting, and he meekly handed back the soiled handkerchief. “I’m so sorry.”
