Page 116 of Taste of Fear

Still, he hoped the human came back…that he didn’t get tired of him… Harlow…made him feel safe. Which was completely moronic, considering he was stronger than him. Yet, he hadn’t been. Harlow wouldn’t have been captured by them if he’d been in Foxx’s place. Though, Harlow also didn’t have his issues. Not that he was even sure Harlow was capable of having such issues. Either way, Foxx freaking out about stupid past trauma had fucked him over.

He sighed. He really didn’t want to think at the moment. About anything. What he wanted was to be warm, and to be held by Harlow. Well, he was warm now, as the power had come back on, so he just needed Harlow back.

Foxx rubbed at his eyes, whispering to the empty room, “Please, hurry back, Harlow…”

* * *

Tony squinted,trying to read the tiny ass text on the paper. It didn’t get any clearer, even with his reading glasses on.

“For fuck’s sake,” he huffed. He was going to ram his foot up whoever’s ass dared to type this document up in less than ten-point font!

His gaze snapped to the door as it opened and Harlow walked in.

Tony frowned. “Didn’t expect to see you in here for a while… Though, I do have some things to discuss with you, so I guess it’s convenient to me that you decided to, for some reason, bother my ass.”

It had taken months, but they finally knew who had blown up Harlow’s house. The hunter was going to be pissed when he found out who it was, so that should be entertaining for Tony. And Harlow would be doubly pissed, as they also knew who the female vampire who lured them into the first trap was working for. Another individual whose name would majorly piss Harlow off.

Tony’s frown deepened when Harlow slowly closed the door and walked in silently, no barbs or comments as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “What? What’s wrong? It’s literally Christmas. Surely, you and your partner haven’t gotten into more trouble in such a short period of time.”

Harlow grimaced, appearing to hesitate before saying, “I think…I’m broken.”

Tony pulled his reading glasses off and stared. “And…this is new…how?”

The man growled. “Something is wrong with me… I…” Harlow rubbed his jaw. “I’ve been having nightmares. Tonight…I woke up, my heart was racing and it hurt. Like this throbbing ache that took a moment to fade. And fuck, Tony, my damn hands were shaking, and I was sweating like crazy. Something is wrong with me!”

Tony stared, brows raised, feeling slightly concerned and very, very shook up. “Nightmares?”

“Yes…”

“What are the nightmares about?”

Harlow cleared his throat, avoiding his gaze. “Well…they were…about Foxx.”

“Foxx?”

“Yes. So, what is wrong with me? Am I dying?”

If any other forty-five-year-old man had asked him if he was dying after having nightmares, he’d have laughed his ass off. But this was Harlow. He hadn’t even known the man could dream, let alone dream about something that scared him enough for him to call them nightmares.

“Harlow, you are going to have to give me more than that, if you want me to help. What exactly is Foxx doing in these dreams?”

“He’s not doing anything.”

“Okay…”

Harlow growled. “He’s dead. I find him dead. Well…at first I'm just wandering around, and then I find him dead.”

Tony’s eyes widened in shock, his reading glasses slipping from his hand and tumbling onto his desk.

Holy shit…Foxx had broken his psycho.

The End