The light of their life had gone out, leaving only darkness.
When Nora finally cried herself to sleep, her mind and body too exhausted to fight any longer, Dan envied her. He didn’t think he would ever sleep again, and if he did… he would be plagued by nightmares. He prayed that Nora’s sleep was peaceful… and dreamless.
Dan lay in the dimly lit cell, gazing blankly at the ceiling. It was his fault they were here, but it wouldn’t have mattered where they were; the pain and grief would have been the same.
He thought about the young man who had taken their world away. Dan needed somewhere to direct the unbearable rage in his broken heart, and for a moment… he had channeled it toward the kid. He had been wrong, and he wished he could take back that moment and undo what he’d done to a family suffering just as deeply as he and Nora.
That boy wasn’t the “villain” of their story—rather, the villain was the one who pulled the trigger. Dan imagined his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him for shooting that boy and for putting that kid on a reckless, desperate path that took Jamie away from them.
Dan didn’t know whether he still believed in God, but if there was any justice in the universe, the bastard who caused the deaths of their son and the other boy would die a fuckinguglydeath.
Abel and the boys looked confused as Axel, silent, hugged Luke for a long moment, clutching his son. When he finally let go, he hugged the twins nearly as hard. Abel glanced uncertainly at Clint, who stood silently, watching.
As Axel released Luke, the cowboy stepped forward and pulled the boy into a firm embrace, pressing his lips to the boy’s hair. Luke trembled slightly. “What’s wrong, Dad?” he whispered into Clint’s shoulder.
“What happened?” Abel asked quietly, his amber eyes filled with fearful uncertainty.
Clint cleared his throat, forcing himself to loosen his grip on his son. “Ask Devlin when he gets home,” Clint mumbled. He didn’t have the mental strength to retell the nightmare that had unfolded before their eyes.
Axel let the twins go and wiped his damp eyes. He looked at Abel, then hugged the young man, too. “Don’t take a second with them for granted,” he whispered in his ear.
“Axel?” Abel murmured as Axel drew back. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing at Clint, Axel said, “Devlin will tell you.” He walked over to Clint and hugged him. “I want to go home. I want to see Hope.”
Clint nodded and kissed his head.
In the car, Axel sat in the back with Luke, holding him again. Clint glanced in the rearview mirror and met his son’s gaze. Luke had endured enough trauma of his own to recognize the signs in others. He knew his dads would explain their behavior once they had a chance to process.
“I need to make another quick stop before we head home,” he told Axel as they pulled away from Devlin and Abel’s house.
Axel nodded, his head resting against Luke’s.
Clint drove to Max and Horatio’s place. Axel stayed in the car with Luke while Clint went inside. He wasn’t gone long before returning to the car and directing them toward home. Axel didn’t ask why he had stopped to speak with the two men; maybe he knew without asking. Or maybe later, when they were in bed, he would ask.
He didn’t.
Once they gathered their children, Clint took a few moments to speak privately with Cochise, then they went home and put Luke and Hope to bed. While Axel sat on the bed beside Luke, Clint explained what had happened. At thirteen, Luke had already experienced horrors no person should face in a lifetime. They didn’t need to explain their behavior to him; he understood their fears—more than any child should be capable of.
Checking on Hope, who was fast asleep in her crib in their bedroom, the men went into the bathroom, undressed, and showered until the water cooled. Axel trembled as he scrubbed the boy’s bloodstains from his hands. Clint washed the rest of him, pressing soft kisses to his wet, heated skin as water droplets mingled with the young man’s tears.
In the bedroom, they slipped beneath the blankets, their bodies still damp, skin steaming. Clint needed to forget for a while and wanted to drown himself in Axel. But he let the young man lead without pushing.
Axel pressed his warm, nude body against Clint and, for a long moment, just held onto him. Then his hands moved, tenderly caressing the cowboy’s tense muscles, his touch slowly relaxing Clint and allowing him to let go of the stress.
“Make love to me,” Axel whispered, his voice trembling, as his lips met Clint’s. “I just want to forget for a while.”
“Me, too,” Clint murmured, his deep voice thick.
The cowboy shifted, and Axel slid beneath him, curling his arms and legs around Clint’s body. He shuddered, tears seeping from his eyes, as Clint pushed inside him. Axel’s hold tightened with desperation. His hips lifted as Clint went deeper.
“Uuhhh…” Axel whimpered. His blunt nails dug into Clint’s back, and he pushed against the cowboy, his inner thighssqueezing his flanks. Axel shuddered again and pleaded shakily, “Fuck me… just make it all go away.”
Sliding his hands into Axel’s damp curls, Clint gently twisted the strands around his fingers, kissed him as hard as he needed to be, and rolled his hips, each rotation a little faster, a little harder. His desperate need to forget, to flush away the horrors of the evening, fueled his thrusts. Their kisses grew harder, hungrier, as their inhibitions and control fell away until they were fucking wildly, sheets and blankets tangling around their writhing limbs.
Axel gasped into Clint’s mouth, sucking his tongue, his tense fingers gouging furrows down the cowboy’s slick back as their bodies collided, shaking the bed. Their stomachs were slick with Axel’s precum, his engorged erection grinding between their bodies.
Breaking free from the kiss, Axel choked back a sob.“Harder…”
