Part of him was still reeling at the scream he’d heard Foxx make from the shower. It was not one he ever wanted to hear again… Yet, the vampire kept making it—again and again. This man was at fault.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” he roared into the man’s face, glaring down at him.
The priest stared, eyes wide, one hand grasping at the hand Harlow had around his neck. “I-I was…helping!” the man croaked out, an odd, confused expression on his face. It read false to Harlow.
Besides his strange expression, the guy was unimpressive. Of average height and weight, the priest had brown hair and brown eyes, and was wearing a black button down, black slacks, with his white collar and shiny black dress shoes.
“Helping?” he asked with a mocking laugh. Noticing a pad of paper in the priest’s other hand, he tossed his gun into the remaining chair against the wall and snatched the pad from him. “And what do we have here, Father?” He waved it in the priest’s face, before flipping it open.
“That’s private!” he cried out.
Harlow clamped his hand tighter around the man’s throat, shutting him up. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together at the sight of Foxx’s name written down, along with his address, ‘age’, and injuries. But before that were names of others. And when he flipped back further…he found more information and names crossed out.
Behind him, Foxx began to plead to be let go. The words drove him closer to crushing the priest’s windpipe.
“Gee, Father, I didn’t know one was allowed to skulk around and steal confidential patient information,” he said with a snarl. “And outside visiting hours. What a surprise they let you in.”
The priest’s lips pressed tight, the fake foolish, confused look vanishing. Scoffing, he tossed the notebook onto the cot in the corner, before patting the man down and pulling out his wallet. He was just flipping it open when the door to the room burst open, Nurse Gladys rushing in.
“Oh, God! Unhand him this instant!” she cried, eyes wide, glancing at him and then away. The woman looked startled. She probably wasn’t expecting to see him naked. Or it could be the man he was choking.
“Hmm, no, I don’t think I will. You see, regardless of your little policies here, we have laws in this country that supersede those. What in the hell made you think you could let a priest go into the rooms of your vampire patients?”
“He only performs the Lord’s work! Father Donovan would never harm anyone!”
“PLEASE!” Foxx cried. And then he heard it—sobbing. The vampire had started to sob.
“Fuck!” Harlow cursed. He’d been trying to ignore Foxx’s screaming, but he found he couldn’t drown out his tears. Good thing there was a nurse here who no doubt had a key to the chains. “Unchain him, now!” he snapped.
She flinched, back straightening. “I won’t. He’s freaking out. Per policy, he will remain restrained,” the woman said, sounding almost smug about it.
And he was considered the heartless one. His expression blanked. “Do it now, or I’ll snap his neck.”
The nurse gasped in horror, clutching at her chest. “You wouldn’t.”
Harlow let out a deep chuckle. “Oh, but I would. And I want to. In fact, I crave to. I’ve wanted to since I wrapped my hand around his throat. The best part is, I’d get away with it too. Self-defense and all that. Him being a threat to my partner. I could spin it easily.”
She stood there, eyes wide and frightened. He could see the debate taking place in her mind, before she jumped into action and rushed over to free the sobbing, screaming vampire. He stood there watching her, making sure she actually did it, before dragging the priest by his neck toward the chair he had piled his clothes into along with his leather jacket. The man began to struggle, but he ignored the weak attempts.
Digging through the pile, he quickly found his jacket and pulled out a few zip ties, setting them on top. Grabbing onto one of the priest’s wrists with his free hand, he released his hold on his throat, twisting him around. Father Donovan cried out as Harlow yanked one arm and then the other behind his back, tying them together.
Without much inner debate, Harlow dragged the man over and shoved him into the bathroom. Not feeling a single thing as he watched the priest fall and shout out in pain, he slammed and locked the door, ignoring the religious rant that followed.
Turning around, Harlow was somehow not surprised to find the nurse had disappeared. She’d no doubt be back.
His focus turned to Foxx. The vampire was curled up, arms wrapped around himself, sobbing. Harlow stared and hesitated… What…what was he supposed to do? How would someone normal deal with this situation? Harlow’s brain was telling him to hurt someone…which was not exactly helpful…
He glanced down, eyeing his flaccid cock. Maybe he’d get dressed first and then figure out what the fuck he was going to do.
He felt it…he felt it. The burning. The scar was burning. It shouldn’t be. It was healed—it was! No…no. No…he was there! He could feel the dampness in the air, smell the burnt flesh on his back…feel…
He was with him! He was trapped—Foxx was trapped again.
Sobbing, he curled in on himself, covering his face with his arms, even as a sharp, painful stabbing sensation began to radiate from his heart. Each beat was becoming more labored.
“NO!” he screamed, flinching away when something brushed against his shoulder.
“Fuck!” a deep voice cursed. “Foxx, it’s me! It’s Harlow. You’re safe!” What he now realized was a hand, more firmly gripped his shoulder.
