A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (28 page)

He finally pressed his lips to Aidan's, teasing him with a tentative swipe of his tongue. A moan escaped when strong hands tugged him closer and a tongue teased his own in a seductive dance, tangling with his, inviting him to explore. His pulse sped with each tender swipe and each demanding pull. He separated from the kiss with a gasp, every nerve ending in his body acutely aware of Aidan's heat and the warm mouth gently biting his chin.

Aidan's fingers threaded through his hair at the nape of his neck, gripping tightly, holding him in place as he trailed kisses down Jessie's throat. A possessive groan escaped Aidan seconds before he swiped his tongue along the length of Jessie's neck.

Jessie lazily opened his eyes, drugged with the need coursing through his body. He forcefully held Aidan's face to still him, staring at the confusion mixed with want in those hazel eyes. He slammed his mouth against Aidan's in a fierce kiss, pouring every ounce of desire, want, and love into it, hoping his telepathic message was received loud and clear.

Strong fingers traveled up his spine, cupping the back of his neck, holding him in place while Aidan devoured his mouth with unbridled need. A moan echoed in the room. Teeth clashed and fingers dug into scalp and skin. Jessie tore himself from the kiss, gasping each breath, swallowing heavily, hoping to tame the blazing fire coursing through his veins and dampen the need vibrating through his body.

Aidan desperately wrapped his arms around Jessie and pulled him close, resting his head against Jessie's chest, his body heaving with each deep, rapid breath. The gesture surprisingly vulnerable and halting any further exploration.

The cloud of heat and need evaporated, leaving behind a fog of confusion.

An urgency to comfort Aidan overtook every ounce of his body. Jessie wrapped his arms protectively around Aidan's shoulders and pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, then another. "What's wrong?"

Aidan silently tightened his arms around Jessie, holding him close in a strong, yet tender embrace.

Jessie stroked Aidan's hair, mixing in peppered kisses, overwhelmed by the need to soothe the sudden tension and quiver in the otherwise strong arms encasing him. They held each other for some time until the fire settled and only tenderness remained, each caressing the other with tentative strokes of their fingertips. Jessie finally pulled away and repositioned himself on the couch, slowly guiding Aidan to spoon him as he did each night they slept.

He softly smiled when Aidan immediately wrapped his arm around his waist, tugging him close. He held Aidan's hand in his and entwined their fingers, pulling their joined hands up to his lips and kissing Aidan's fingertips. He nestled into the embrace, reveling in the warm puffs of air breezing by his ear, comforting him in a cocoon of safety he could only find in Aidan's arms.

* * * *

Aidan leaned against the window frame and clenched his jaw, hearing the doctor's scribble of the pen tip against her notebook. Sometimes, she'd sit at her desk, other times—like today—she sat in the side chair doing some form of paperwork to pass the time. Maybe he'd need a padded room after this appointment. He hated the fucking silence. It gave him too much damn time to think. The kiss still lingered in his mind, and those addictive snuggling embraces, and yet, he didn't know what to do next. He wanted so much. "I don't know why I keep coming here," he said in an almost growl.

The pen stopped.

He turned sharply and shoved his hands into his pockets. "And before you ask me
why do I think I come here
, I believe I just answered that question." He bit down hard enough that his back molars started to hurt. "I. Don't. Know."

The doctor set the folder and pen on the side table and clasped her hands in her lap. "You
do
know why you're here. Because deep down inside, you know that whatever all this is, it's eating away at you and costing you your life. And you're scared of what that's doing to you because it's a loss of control. And you, my dear, love to be in control."

Aidan responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I can tell you're angry and frustrated and I'm guessing that's because you're at a stalemate in life and want to move forward but don't know how. It's obvious we're going to get to the root of the problem on your terms. So
you
need to start talking when you're ready. I'm not going to sit here, lecture you, or turn your answers into questions and ask you how you're feeling. I'm here to listen and arm you with the tools to help you cope with what's happened that's put you in this headspace and help you manage
it
rather than let it manage you so you can choose the path to the future you want, free of encumbrances." She waited and stared, her focus never flinching away from his. "I do have one question for you. And it's the important one."

Aidan continued to stare, waiting for her to resume her soapbox speech.

"Regardless of who asked you to come see me, the important thing is that you need to do this for yourself. Otherwise, it won't happen on your terms and you won't have control of moving forward," she said. She crossed her legs and stared at him intently. "So you need to ask yourself…
am I doing this for him, because he asked me to?
Or,
am I doing this for myself because I need to work through things so I can finally have control of my life again and work on being happy?
"

He scowled and slowly straightened, letting the doctor's words sink in. "You're not very nice. You're supposed to be comforting and tell me everything's going to be fine."

Dr. Engel slowly raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Y
ou
don't need nice. During our first visit, you demanded I ignore your
bullshit
," she emphasized. "Remember?" She glanced up at the clock on the wall then stood. She thumbed through her appointment book. "Pick one. Late afternoon Tuesday or Thursday."

Aidan pushed his palms together and took a deep breath.
His terms.
"Both."

A slow smile spread across her face before she squiggled in the appointment book.

He finally made his way toward the door, hesitating with his hand on the knob. "Yes." He looked over his shoulder back at the doctor. "To both questions. It's not either or. He asked me to talk to you, but I'm also doing it for myself. I…I want…" He sighed. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to be with Jess. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be able to finish a day without feeling the weight of the daily fight wear him down.

She nodded. "Jessie is very special."

"He is."

"He cares for you."

"I know."

"And it's obvious you feel the same."

He hoped his silence said more than any mangled words could summarize.

"I'll see you Tuesday."

He walked out the door, suddenly feeling a little lighter.
Fuck being a quitter
.
I can do this
. He didn't have a clue how all this would play out, but one thing was certain, he had just taken a toddler-sized step in the right direction.

Jessie grabbed the remote and switched off the television as the closing credits scrolled. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned so hard Aidan could swear Jessie's jaw popped. "How about we try sleeping in the bed tonight?"

Aidan's body immediately tensed. Definitely a subject he had hoped to avoid. Jessie had sacrificed far too many hours of sleep just to be with him on the couch each night for over a month and couldn't disguise the hint of dark shadows under his eyes. Even through sleep deprivation, Jessie refused to abandon their nights together. He had promised to try and Jessie's patience probably ran as thin as his sleep schedule these days. Aidan caved, nodding his response.

"My bed's not that big but…um…"

"It's the only bed in the house." Aidan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping to hide the tension thrumming through his body. The master bedroom had a huge, vacant space where a king-size bed could easily fit, but he used the space for his home office, preferring the openness to pace when thinking on a case.

Jessie slipped his hand into Aidan's and led him toward the guest room. "The lamp is kind of bright in here, are you okay with the blinds being open to get the light from outside?"

Aidan nodded. Any light was better than none at all. The nod earned him a smile as Jessie walked over and opened the blinds, letting a faint gold cast of light filter in from the aging street lamp outside.

They settled onto the soft mattress and Jessie positioned himself next to Aidan. "Good night," he said with a huge yawn before reaching over and switching off the lamp light.

Aidan closed his eyes and tried to focus on the comfort of the bed and the softness of the pillows under his head.

I can do this.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, concentrating on the soft head of hair resting on his shoulder and the gentle fingers wound around his arm.
I can do this
. He slowly eased into a calming peace.

Scrape, scrape.

His eyes sprang open. His heart hammered against his chest, faster with each passing millisecond. His lips parted, trying to take in a little more precious air while remaining as still as possible. He looked over, cursing the large tree that swayed in the wind and blocked out most of the light filtering in through the blinds.

Scrape, scrape.

A branch brushing against the window; he was familiar with the sound. But he looked from side to side and couldn't see it, couldn't confirm it was a branch or the sound of someone making their way through the makeshift barrier of downed trees and discarded wood just outside the door of where he'd been held captive. In an instant, a flood of snapshots flashed in his mind. The dark room, the hard bed, the musty smells, the braided material used as a rope.

Scrape, scrape.

He gripped the sheet at his side and took another deep, shaky breath, steeling himself.

I can do this.

An old metal garbage can crashed to the ground outside. He cursed under his breath at the elderly neighbors who insisted the aluminum bins were better than the city-provided ones. He stared at the ceiling, hearing the scrape of aluminum as it traveled with the wind along the paved road. The too familiar sound brought in another wave of memories, echoes of chains sliding across the floor to restrict him to the musty, dirty slip of mattress during some of his punishments.

It's not real. I can do this.

Jessie stirred beside him and tugged at the sheet covering them. The material slid against his wrists, mirroring the slide of the material used moments before they'd string him up through the pulley. He swallowed heavily and his breathing sped.

I…I can do this.

The gentle hold caressing his arm now felt like a vise, clamping him down, limiting his movement, tying him down just as it had years ago for so many months. His throat tightened, remembering the material wrapped around his neck that further restricted him. He couldn't breathe. He screwed his eyes shut, a pointless action that didn't wipe away the series of images flipping through his mind—the blindfold, the punishments, the beatings, the blood, the screams. His fingers numbed in the death grip he had on the sheet. The faint glow of light from the window lessened, blocked by the tree blowing in the wind. The rhythmic puffs of warm breath against his arm pushed him over the edge.

Scrape, scrape.

He slipped out from under the sheet, needing to escape. He landed quietly on the floor. Instinctively, he wanted to stay in the room, but the multimedia production playing in his mind forced him to distance himself. His entire body heaved with each torturous breath he managed to pull through his constricted throat, fighting the current reality with the growingly vivid flashback that threatened to take hold of his senses.

I…can't…do this.

He crawled his way to the corner of the room, feeling the comfort of the hard wall against his back, knowing no one could surprise him from behind. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead against them. The shadows of defeat and helplessness taunted him, kicking and screaming at him, throwing him back into that hell from so many years ago.

Scrape, scrape.

He screwed his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his ears like a child, trying to will the pictures to fade and the sounds and screams to silence.

* * * *

Jessie woke to a cold, empty bed. He stilled and listened more closely at the faint sound in the room. Strangled breathing. He immediately reached over to the lamp and flipped the switch, flooding the room with bright light. He gasped when he saw Aidan in the corner of the room, rocking himself, gripping his hair.

He launched from the bed and knelt in front of Aidan, cautious to not startle him.

"Aidan, it's Jessie. Open your eyes." He reached out and hesitated. He took a deep breath. "Aidan, I'm here for you," he said and gently placed his hand on Aidan's bare foot.

Aidan immediately pulled away, folding into himself.