He urges me up, and concern flashes through me as he stumbles, pain crossing his face for a moment. But he ignores it, and wraps an arm around me, holding me close. “I got you. Let’s go upstairs.”
“I need…I need to alert Carter and the other Seconds. I need t—to tell Tennant. There’s so much to be done. Tracking the source of the video, calling H… I can’t.”
Jude places a finger over my mouth and stares at me as if I’m one of his Boys. My mind is too tired and battered to do anything but fall into his dominance, allowing him to take control.
“You need rest. You need to get your arm cleaned, and you need something more than caffeine in your stomach. Doc is two seconds away from sedating you?—”
I shake my head. “No…no drugs, please.”
“Then you’ll listen and let me take care of you.”
I tremble under the weight of his care, because I know I don’t deserve it. Still, I agree. “Okay.”
Slowly, carefully, he leads me from the office. I can’t help but notice the hitch in his step, the way he puts most of his weight on his good leg, telling me he’s been pushing himself too hard lately. Guilt bubbles inside me, and I hate that I haven’t noticed how hard he’s taking this. What a useless partner I am…
Jude leads me upstairs, not to our bedroom, but to the one he shares with Antonio and the twins. I try to resist, but he doesn’t give me a choice, strong-arming me into the room.
He strips us both and puts me into bed, holding me close for what feels like forever as I break apart in his arms.
Everything is so backwards and upside down, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. I know Emilio won’t, and that thought breaks me apart all over again. No one should ever know that type of pain, especially not someone as sweet as my Puppy.
“Shhh. It’ll be okay, Hol,” Jude whispers. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find them, and we’ll help them. None of you are alone.”
I want so badly to believe him, but…maybe it’s a good thing Allesandro gets to live. He and Tennant can take care of my Boy. They can save him from a lifetime of pain in ways I never could, because as strong as I pretend to be, I am still Dayton, the seventeen-year-old boy who learned how to take a cock whether he wanted to or not.
I was turned into someone—something—less than human, and I don’t want that for my Emilio, or for Roman, but I don’t know how to be Hollis. Not now. Not when it so easily could have been me on that bed…
“We’ll find them, and you’ll all be okay,” Jude says again, holding me tighter.
Closing my eyes, I bury my face into him, guilt running through me as he holds me together, but I'm unable to stopmyself. I don’t deserve his comfort, not when Roman and Lio are hurting so badly, but I’m selfish enough to soak it up anyway.
The riot of thoughts in my head never slows down, even as my eyes refuse to open again, and my trembling stops. The emotional shitstorm drags me into darkness bit by bit. The one last stray thought I have is:maybe the darkness will swallow me up forever, and this crushing pain will go away for good.
Walking into my former home brings a pang to my heart. I spent so many years here… There’s a sense of nostalgia, even if my soul clambers to be back at the O’Connel mansion, which I’ve begun to think of as “ours”, despite it not being De Luca territory. At least, the conversations I’ve had with Keegan have kept me from going crazy. It’s been a balm for both Carter and me.
While I have my orders, there is one thing I need to do. And while my Sir will understand, and has already given his approval, there’s a major part of me that worries about me doing it. Still, I can’t be so close tohimand not stop to see him. I’m not Antonio. I can’t turn my back, not even if my best friend thinks I should.
As I turn into the medical wing, Dr. Ranlen greets me. She points to a room, but I shake my head. I’m not here for Keeganquite yet. With a dawning expression, and a tightening of her lips, she gestures for me to come closer.
“Do not upset him right now. He’s still…delicate. While Lio being kidnapped has brought him back to a certain degree, at least to the point I’m no longer having to monitor him quite so closely, he’s still…different.”
The flash of concern on her face worries me, but I nod my reassurance. After all, I’m probably the least likely to cause issues. I’m surprised Tennant hasn’t made it out of his bed and over to Il Padrone’s room to kill him. Hopefully, the thought just hasn’t crossed his mind.
She takes me further down the hallway, before stopping outside a partially open door. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she hesitates before knocking. Only when I hear Il Padrone’s voice does she back away and tilt her head toward the door.
She must have noticed my shock at his voice. It’s not nearly as strong and commanding as it used to be. Laying a hand on my arm, she squeezes it in acknowledgment of the situation before walking away. Pushing my shoulders back and standing straight, I open the door and walk in.
I thought I was prepared. Keegan’s warning about Il Padrone being different has been pressed into my mind, but somehow, I wasn’t expectingthis. The man sitting up in the hospital bed looks several years older, and if I didn’t have the history I have with him, I’d never believe this to be the mighty Il Padrone. Fuck. Everything about him screamslost.
As I swallow, hoping to wet my suddenly dry throat, I step closer to him, hopefully hiding my shock. I can’t find any words, but thankfully, he steps in first.
“Marcus. I was going to contact you. I’ve been waiting for access to a phone.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his face—or more accurately, what I think is an attempt at a potential smile.Fuck. Is he a prisoner here? It would make sense, but it grates on me that he doesn’t even have a phone.
“Was there something you needed, Padrone?” I incline my head, needing to give him the level of respect that he’s always earned from me in the past.
He shudders, shaking his head almost frantically. Raising a hand, he stalls me as I go to back away. “Please. I’m not Il Padrone anymore.”
I’m powerless to his plea. I know Keegan warned me, but fuck. It’s like being thrown into the ocean in the middle of a storm—I can’t find my bearings. Taking a deep breath, I slowly reply, “How would you like to be addressed?”
