Safe Harbor (41 page)

* * * *

The neurologist came in and spent an hour evaluating Mac while Sully and Clarisse huddled in the waiting room. When the doctor finished, he found them there and sat with them, a smile on his face.

“This is good. Very good. He’s showing a lot of improvement, the brain scan shows cognitive function. He’s also responding appropriately to yes-and-no questions. We’ve talked about this. He’s going to need therapy and lots of it. He might have issues with his verbal and motor skills. He might have memory or cognitive impairment. But this is a step in the right direction.”

Sully clutched Clarisse to him and cried with her as they celebrated the news.

* * * *

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For the next week, Mac didn’t make drastic improvements. He did start following them more with his eyes, and if questions were kept to yes and no, he could hold very simple conversations. Slowly, he regained a little control of his hands, could squeeze when told to.

Sometimes he rotated his hand for yes, shook it a little for no.

Seeing the familiar gesture made Clarisse and Sully smile.

Sully sat alone with him one afternoon, having sent Clarisse to the apartment to eat and nap. He would sit and stare at Mac with his fingers laced through Mac’s. Mac had drifted in and out of consciousness all day, occasionally squeezing Sully’s hand or responding to comments. The nurse had checked Mac’s vitals and left Sully with Mac’s afternoon feeding dose. Sully and Clarisse had learned how to feed Mac through his feeding tube and insisted on being the ones to do it when they were present.

Sully stood and washed his hands, then hooked up the feeding syringe. He smiled at Mac. “Ready for chow time?”

Sully didn’t think he imagined the sudden tilt to Mac’s mouth.

Sully laid the syringe on the sheet and leaned in close. “Brant?”

Mac’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “…ssster.”

“What?”

Then Mac’s mouth opened and he slowly licked his chapped lips.

They coated them with lip balm several times a day, but some dryness still occurred. “Yesss, Massster,” he breathed. Then his lips returned to the faint smile, obviously proud of himself.

Stunned, Sully didn’t process what Mac had said for a moment.

He whooped with joy and grinned. “Son of a bitch! Please tell me you said what I think you said.”

Mac’s smile widened a little and he blinked twice.

Yes.

Sully’s eyes filled with tears as he started the feeding process.

“Jesus, Brant, that was the best sound I think I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Mac dozed during the feeding, but he opened his eyes when he

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heard Clarisse arrive. The faint smile returned to his face.

Sully noticed his look and grinned, stopping Clarisse in her tracks.

“What?” she asked.

He looked at Mac. “You want to try again?”

Yes.

Sully grinned even wider. “Honey, lean in close.”

She did, and Mac licked his lips. “Pet.”

She gasped as her eyes widened, then filled with tears. “Oh, Brant!”

Mac smiled.

“He said it, all right,” Sully said, beaming. He glanced around to make sure the nurse wasn’t close by and leaned across the bed. “I asked him earlier if he was ready for his lunch and he said, ‘Yes, Master.’”

Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried and failed to choke back her sob.

Mac watched as she leaned in and kissed him. “Sir, I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.

A tear rolled down Mac’s face. He blinked.

Yes.

* * * *

He could speak in short, simple sentences by the end of the next week. It was both a difficult physical effort for him, as well as a troubling mental one, Sully observed. Mac had problems finding, much less saying, the right words. He still used the blinking system, and shaking or rotating his wrist for yes or no. He also used his familiar eyebrow arch to indicate a question instead of speaking at times. A speech therapist came in to work with him, as did occupational and physical therapists. The next week, he was moved to a rehab facility a couple of blocks from the hospital, still within walking distance of the apartment.

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After a month there, he’d regained some of his gross motor skills, enough Clarisse and Sully could take him “home” to the apartment.

Mac didn’t remember the attack, and he hadn’t asked what happened.

Sully decided that story could wait until later, if it ever needed to be told at all.

With Mac decidedly on the mend, Clarisse’s mood greatly improved. The nightmares that plagued her after the shooting disappeared almost overnight once Mac was safely back with them.

Their first night together following the attack, Sully and Clarisse snuggled tightly against Mac, with him firmly sandwiched between them.

The next morning, Clarisse left to pick up Bart from Tad and bring him to the apartment. Sully was dressing Mac and getting him ready for his daily therapy appointments.

Mac still didn’t talk much, even though he could. Sully suspected it was an exhausting effort for him. His voice sounded weak, almost forced, nothing like its former rich tone.

He was buttoning Mac’s shirt for him while Mac sat in his wheelchair. When Mac weakly caught his hand, Sully looked into his lover’s eyes and saw the concern there.

“Tell me.”

Sully sat on the bed. “Everything?”

Mac nodded.

Sully told him about the attack. He stopped at Mac being admitted.

“More.”

“Brant, you don’t need to know that.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“She wasn’t there. She’d left the marina.”

“After.”

Sully had never lied to Mac in the course of their relationship.

Ever. It was a point he prided himself on.

He owed the man honesty. Hell, he owed him his life.

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“He can’t ever hurt her again.” Bryan’s body had been found late the next day by motel housekeeping. As Sully had expected, while there were questions, the fact that Jason caught the case because he was in charge of the investigation of Mac’s attack, combined with Bryan Jackson’s history, allowed many questions to simply remain unanswered. The car, it turned out, had been stolen. If Clarisse’s prints were found in the car, Jason must have taken care of it because it was never brought up, neither of them were ever questioned about Bryan’s murder.

As far as Jason was concerned, he ate dinner with Sully and Clarisse that night, before he returned to the ICU to sit with Mac while the other two took a nap and got some rest.

Surprisingly, when Jason searched Bryan’s room at the crime scene, he found an ounce of cocaine hidden inside his suitcase.

Sully didn’t ask Jason where he’d found that little party favor, but it only stacked the deck against Bryan. The current popular theory was a robbery or drug deal gone wrong because of the surrounding neighborhood being rife with frequent narcotics busts.

He told Mac the rest of the story. Mac listened, his gaze on his hands, which he clenched and unclenched in his lap while Sully softly related what happened.

When he finished, Mac looked up with tears in his eyes. “She okay?”

Sully gently laid a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “She’s really okay.

Her nightmares have stopped.”

Mac sniffled, took a deep breath, and let it out. “Okay.” He met Sully’s gaze. “Love you.”

Sully smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “I love you too, Brant.”

Mac scowled.

“What’s that for?” Sully asked.

Mac arched an eyebrow at him. After a long moment, Sully laughed and hugged him. “Quit pouting,
slave
. Your face will freeze like that.”

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Mac snickered. “Yes, Master.”

* * * *

“I can do it,” Mac insisted.

Clarisse hovered behind him, around him, in front of him, worried. “I know, sweetie, but let me help—”

“Let him do it, pet,” Sully sternly ordered.

Clarisse shot Sully a dark look, but stepped away from Mac.

With his right hand, Mac gripped the hand rail and slowly lifted his left leg, planting his foot firmly on the riser. It took him ten minutes and three more orders from Sully for Clarisse to leave him be, but Mac climbed the stairs to their house by himself. Once at the top, Sully stepped in and slipped his arm around Mac’s waist for support.

“All right, tough guy. That’s enough independence for your first day home.” He guided Mac over to the couch and helped him sit. In the months since the attack, Mac had dropped nearly thirty pounds, most of that in lost muscle. He’d started using light hand weights, but Sully knew it would take a while to regain his former body tone.

Bart ran into the room, dragging something. It wasn’t until he climbed the ramp next to the couch and jumped into Mac’s lap that Clarisse realized what he had.

The butt plug.

Mac and Sully started laughing. Sully snickered and grabbed the dog. “What a way to welcome him home, pup. Let’s go empty your pan.” He carried the dog out of the room.

Clarisse recognized Mac’s playful expression. “What?”

He patted his lap.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Won’t break. Come here.”

He had her straddle his lap, facing him. He slowly worked to unbutton her shirt, pushing her hands away when she tried helping

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him.

“Behave, pet,” he scolded.

She grinned. “Sorry, Sir.” It had been several months since she’d even remotely felt in the mood. But as Mac’s planned homecoming loomed and her libido returned, just weeks before Thanksgiving, Sully had denied her release to amp up her anticipation.

Now she understood why.

It’d only been in the past couple of weeks that Mac felt like being intimate. Because of his weakened condition, they kept things simple, usually Clarisse going down on him while Sully held him.

He parted her shirt and pushed it down her shoulders, exposing her bra. He struggled for a moment with the front clasp, then dragged in a long, deep breath when the fabric parted.

“Love you, pet.”

“I love you too, Sir.”

He pulled her to him and traced circles around her nipples with his tongue. After several minutes, he’d driven her close to the edge.

Sully walked in carrying a laundry basket. “Ah, I see we’re really getting back to normal.”

Mac arched an eyebrow at him.

Laughing, Sully shook his head. “Carry on. Don’t let me interrupt.

I’ve got laundry to do or we’ll all have to run around here naked.”

Mac’s hands settled on Clarisse’s waist. “Shirt off,” he softly said.

“Please.”

She shrugged her shirt and bra off and draped her arms over his shoulders. “Like this?”

He smiled, shifting his hips against her. “Yeah. Like that.”

She took a cue from him and started a slow, seductive grind against his pelvis. She felt his stiff cock rubbing against her through his shorts. “Want me to lose my shorts?”

He grinned. “Duh.”

She stood, slipped them and her panties off, then retook her perch on his lap. “Does Sir want a lap dance?”

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“More than that.” He pulled her to him and kissed her, slowly, savoring every second. He never asked her about the shooting. The men didn’t want her to think about it. Now with Mac home, despite still having therapy once a week that would continue for at least several months, he wanted life to go back to normal.

As normal as it could be for them under the circumstances.

The sound of footsteps racing up the stairs heralded Sully sticking his head through the front door. “Pet, get dressed. Now. Jason and Katie just pulled in.”

“Shit!” She jumped off Mac and scrambled for her clothes as Mac let out a long, sad sigh. She leaned in and kissed him. “I’m sorry, Sir.

We’ll pick up where we left off when they go, I promise.”

He grabbed her wrist. As more footsteps sounded on the stairs, he pulled her in for one last long, deep kiss. “No underwear.”

Clarisse grinned. “Okay. Let me go get dressed!” She bolted across the living room and closed their bedroom door behind her as the front door opened and Sully walked through, followed by Jason and Katie.

Mac grabbed a throw pillow and pulled it into his lap to hide the pup tent his shorts had become. Katie swooped in to give him a hug and kiss. Jason shook his hand. Sully stood behind them, smiling, and winked at Mac.

Mac smiled and winked back.

Clarisse returned a moment later. After three hours, Jason and Katie finally left.

Unfortunately, so had Mac’s stamina. When Sully returned from walking them out, he helped Mac stand. “You worn out?”

“Yeah.”

Sully kept an arm around his waist and walked him to the bedroom while Clarisse fixed them all something to eat. Sully helped him onto the bed.

“You okay?”

“Tired.”

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Sully knelt in front of him and helped him remove his shoes. “It’s good to finally have you home, Brant.”

Mac arched an eyebrow at him.

“I can call you Brant if I want, slave.”

Mac snickered. “Yes, Master.”

Sully stared into his eyes. “What the fuck would I have done if I’d lost you?”

“Your own laundry.”

Sully laughed. “I’m doing that already.” He closed his eyes and rested his head in Mac’s lap. “You’re not allowed to ever scare me like that again…slave.”

Mac snickered again. “Yes, Master.”

Sully felt Mac’s fingers stroke his head, twine in his hair, rest there. He fought the urge to cry with relief that their nightmare had truly ended. Bryan dead, Clarisse safe, and Mac home for good. Life could finally go on. This man was his strength, his rock. It didn’t matter Mac called him Master. Mac had saved his life, kept him sane and whole.

Kept him from putting a bullet into his own brain on more than one occasion when he didn’t think he could stand the pain.

“I love you, Sul,” Mac whispered.

Sully smiled and lifted his head to look at Mac. His soul felt lighter than it had in months. “Love you too, Brant.”

Clarisse brought dinner into the bedroom. They watched TV while they ate. After dinner, she took everything to the kitchen to clean up.

Mac snuggled against Sully.

“Collar?” Mac asked.

Sully had let Mac wear his ID bracelet once he’d regained most of his independence, afraid he might catch it on something and hurt himself somehow before then.

Sully propped himself on one elbow and looked at him. “Let’s go easy for a while, okay?”

Mac frowned and rolled onto his back away from Sully.

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Sully sat up. “Stop it. Dammit, we just got you home.”

“Won’t break.” He wouldn’t look at Sully.

“Jesus Christ, you are one fucking stubborn man, do you know that?”

Mac glared at him and stuck out his tongue.

Sully laughed. “Fuck me, you are too much.”

Mac flipped him a bird. Sully pinned his arm to the bed. “You want to lose that finger?”

He flipped him off with his other hand. Sully pinned that hand to the bed too, then straddled him. “You’re looking for a good caning, aren’t you, slave?”

“Duh.”

They locked eyes for a moment. Sully leaned in and kissed him, hard, until he felt Mac’s cock stiffen in his shorts. Only then did he release Mac’s hands as he changed position. He slid Mac’s shorts down his hips.

“What’re you doing?”

“Shut up, slave.” Sully knelt between Mac’s legs and grabbed his lover’s cock. All these years and he’d never done this for a whole bunch of reasons that he really didn’t understand anymore. It didn’t matter.

A lot of things didn’t matter. Only two things in his life mattered, and one of them was lying in front of him. The other would be back from the kitchen in a few minutes.

He lowered his head to Mac’s cock and licked the head.

“Master—”

“I said shut up. That’s an order.”

Mac lay back and obeyed. Sully explored the head with his tongue, closed his eyes, and slowly engulfed Mac’s cock with his lips.

“Ohh, man. I want to help!”

Both men laughed as they looked at Clarisse. She stood in the doorway and wore a pouty face.

“Get over here, pet,” Sully ordered. “You can lick his balls while I

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suck him.”

She quickly climbed into position. Mac threw his head back and writhed on the bed as they tag teamed him. After a long time of Mac not coming despite all his efforts, Sully realized his stupid mistake.

He lifted his head. “You can come any time you want, slave.”

Sully lowered his head to Mac’s cock again. A few moments later, Mac’s loud cries signaled his release.

Clarisse raised her head and giggled. “I was going to say something, but I figured you knew what you were doing.”

He slapped her ass. “Thanks a lot, pet.”

“Any time, Master.”

They cuddled next to Mac as he lay there with a content smile on his face. “Boat rules?”

Sully laughed. “No, not quite. Something special for your first night home, that’s all.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“I’d say anytime, but you have to earn the next blow job from me.”

Mac opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow at him.

Sully smiled. “First time you really get back in the saddle, so to speak, running the boat and boat rules are in effect, feel free to take advantage.”

Mac still stared, questioning.

“Hey, I have to give you some incentive to keep working hard in therapy.”

Mac lowered his head, closed his eyes, and snickered. “Yes, Master.”

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