“I know.” Goldie frowned. “I know you… have to do that. Or whatever. I still think there are other ways to help, but… I’m also starting to think maybe you really are meant to do this.” He laughed. “I feel kinda crazy saying it out loud, but I cannot explain how else you do any of the stuff I’ve seen you do. I mean, justthisis insane enough.” He touched the medallion. “If I wasn’t wearing this, I’d be dead, wouldn’t I?”
Day shook his head, and he snuggled in close to Goldie’s side. “God said to be strong and courageous,” he said quietly. “Do not be afraid or terrified for God goes with you. He will never leave you nor forsake you.” He glanced around as if to see if someone was listening, adding in a whisper, “And neither will I.”
“Thank you, baby.” Goldie wrapped his arm around Day’s shoulders.
Day grimaced as if he’d been caught, maybe by the voice of his father scolding him for technically breaking his vow again. It was brief, so perhaps the unheard conversation went well.
For a second, Goldie thought he was starting to hear it too.
Maybe the crazy or whatever it was truly was contagious.
“Well.” Goldie looked over at the mess in the kitchen and living room. “I guess I need to clean that shit up. Then a shower. Like, the longest, hottest fucking shower in the universe.” He pressed a kiss into Day’s hair. “How about Chinese for dinner?”
Day grinned, and he nodded. He pointed at Goldie and then to the bathroom. He shooed him in that direction.
“What?” Goldie frowned. “I gotta clean up—”
Day lightly patted Goldie’s arm and shook his head. He pointed at himself and then to the mess, making a waving motion with his hand.
“Baby, no. You’re not gonna clean all that up by yourself. Come on.” Goldie grunted as he lumbered up to his feet. “At least let me help you—”
“And God said, submit to me,” Day argued as he stood, glaring up at Goldie.
“Day, there’s literallybloodon the floor.”
Cradling Twinkle underneath his chin with one hand, Day reached with the other to grab Goldie’s jaw, saying firmly, “Submit to me, my husband. Ineverything.”
That commanding tone made Goldie’s knees buckle, and he shivered.
The urge to surrender was right there, enveloping him slowly like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer, and he sighed softly. The accompanying haze was familiar now, and Goldie found it comforting. He could sink right in, his thoughts would gloss over, and all that mattered was listening to Day.
He’d never known how much heneededthis.
To surrender.
To succumb.
Tosubmit.
Having now discovered its sweet hold, he knew he could never let it go.
Goldie took a deep breath, enjoying the slow descent and nodding. He closed his eyes as his muscles relaxed, and he nodded again. “Yes, sir.”
Day smiled, and he stood tall for a kiss, murmuring, “My sweet angel.”
Goldie headed to the bathroom, and he pulled off the scrubs and hospital socks. He stuffed them into the trash can. He never wanted to see those things again. He glanced in the mirror, and he touched the medallion of Saint Sebastian. It was disfigured from catching the bullet, but he could still make out part of the saint’s face, his eyes blissfully gazing to heaven.
He could also see a smear of blood on his cheek, and there was some in his hair. He didn’t want to find more, so he went on and stepped into shower before even getting the water turned on.
Goldie cringed from the icy cold blast of water, and he tried to step back while he waited for it to heat up. Once it was finally warm, he offered his back to the scalding spray.
He breathed in the steam clouding around him, and he stood there, soaking up the hot water. It felt good on his sore back, and he smirked a little when he remembered exactly how he had gotten so worn out—namely, riding Day’s cock in the squeakiest bed in the universe.
Right next to the corpse of a man Day had murdered.
Christ.
He should have been disgusted with himself, but the memory got him hot. He’d never known anyone like Day, and he wondered if he truly was a blessed agent of the Lord’s wrath, an avenging angel in the body of a beautiful man placed here on Earth to serve as an instrument of His fury.
