Chapter Twenty-Seven
Scott
Scott wasn’t sure where he got the audacity to suggest that George be the company driver for him, except when the idea popped into his head, he felt it was the right decision.
George’s simple acceptance made returning to the house a little less nerve-racking. Because now came the actuality of settling into George’s home…
“You’re back to frowning. What is it?” George asked, taking hold of Scott’s hand to bring them to the couch. He threw a couple of cushions onto the other seat, and Scott watched them land and one topple to the floor.
Did his fingers itch to pick it up? Yes. All it took was one look at George’s neutral expression to see that he was waiting for Scott to decide to stop him. “I know you’re waiting for me to start fussing.”
George plonked himself down on the couch and brought Scott with him, settling him on his lap like he’d done in the forest to stop his pants from getting dirty. It was the little things that mattered.
“I want you to relax,” he spoke carefully, like he was picking his words. “And the reward system can help. I see that…”
“Except you want me to understand that the things that trigger me aren’t an issue with you?” Scott finished off. “That when I start tidying, I make you feel uncomfortable, and I’m not thinking about you.”
George’s smile was as gentle as the finger he traced down Scott’s cheek. “Yes. Its gotta be mighty hard to live up to all those expectations you got going inside”—he tapped the side of Scott’s head—“of here.”
Scott released a shuddery breath. “I think about you all the time. Then I think I’m going to be too clingy, and you’ll hate it. When you came to work late the first time, I didn’t say anything because of those very fears. Then you came with a fresh shirt on, clearly having gone home to shower, and I could see you didn’t like being in my apartment.”
“It’s not that I don’t like your apartment, I just worried I was gonna make a mess, and it would upset you.”
Scott sighed and pressed his cheek against George’s. “The little things, they creep up on me and then they become these big things, and I can’t seem to stop them chasing me.”
“Then what say we chase them together?” George moved beneath him and hugged him tighter. “Talkin’, it’s the only way to sort out things.”
“So, I’ll tell you when something is bothering me, and you won’t be cross with me?” He sounded pathetic, except this was important. His family had always shut him down, and it had become a habit to keep his thoughts to himself. He needed to break free of old habits.
George growled. “I’ll say it again, your family has got a lot to answer for.” He kissed Scott on the cheek. “Yep, I want you to talk about whatever is on your mind.”
The sincerity was genuine and unraveled the knots in his belly. “Maybe it’s time I told my parents how they made me feel.” As he said it, Scott understood that if he was ever really going to move forward, then he needed to offload the burden of his past.
“If you feel that’s the right thing to do, then I’ll support you.”
You’re going to go and tell them how you feel, good luck with that.
Not helping.
They showed us nothing but contempt.
Yes, and it’s time they know we aren’t putting up with that any longer.
Scott met George’s gaze. “I do. Only I think I need to do it now, otherwise…”
“Let’s eat before we go, so they don’t spoil our appetite.”
Scott chuckled at how serious George was. He shuffled off his lap and stood. “What do you fancy?” It was easier to keep his attention on a task rather than think about what he was going to say to his parents.
“Homemade patties, mushrooms, onions, and heaps of cheese, maybe a few fries.” George got up and followed him. “I did a grocery shop this morning so we should have everything we need.”
They worked together, and Scott liked the rhythm of it. He cleaned up as they went, but it wasn’t manic. George talked about the contract Scott would draw up and the benefits, and by the time they sat to eat, Scott didn’t bother to clear off the clutter on the table.
The atmosphere was much like it had been at breakfast, and it stopped the nervous anxiety Scott lived with constantly. George’s presence, when he allowed it, soothed him. His bear was easy going.
When George took his plate and glass to the sink, Scott followed in companionable silence as they finished the cleanup.
George took the dishtowel from Scott’s hands after he twisted it for the third time. “We don’t have to go—”
He shook his head. “No, I do.” He rolled his shoulders and reached for George’s hand. “Don’t let go.”
“Never,” George answered, squeezing his fingers.
In a blink, they were in Scott’s bedroom—storeroom, and he didn’t so much as glance about to see what else they had shoved in there. No, he was done worrying about the disrespect. He opened the door and listened out, then followed the sounds of voices. Only there was a voice he wasn’t expecting to hear that drove him to quicken his pace. What the hell was the king doing here?
Fuck, had his parents followed through on their threats?
“What is it?” George whispered.
“The king is here!” he hissed back, hurrying. “They better not be trying to separate us.” Fury, the kind that he’d felt at George’s disappearance, came and fueled the need to stop his parents.
He more dragged than walked George into the large room his parents used for visitors. It was pretentious and ostentatious. Gold and red were the color theme, his father's attempt to mimic that of the throne room the demon king had. It looked like someone had vomited gold and red all over the room in a nasty pattern.
Asmodeus sat on an ornate chair his father liked to use. His face revealed none of his thoughts as he glanced at Scott while his parents, sitting on the most uncomfortable couch, failed to notice his arrival.
“I mean, it’s an impossible situation. A bear, of all things,”—his father shuddered—“it’ll bring disgrace on to our name. There must be something you can—”
“How dare you,” Scott said with barely controlled rage at what he was hearing. “The disgrace is you, not George. He is my blissful one.”
His parents' heads turned in his direction and Scott could see the disdain and disappointment—the two things he’d lived with his whole life. No more. George gave him courage and unconditional love, he needed nothing else.
“See, the boy, he’s under the influence of that… creature,” his father spat out. “Scott would never speak to us like that.”
Scott came forward, George’s fingers clasping his, helping him to focus. “Because I was always shut down. Made to feel less. Like I had nothing of value to contribute when I didn’t look the same.”
His father got up with an ugly sneer aimed at George. “We will talk about this when you can be civilized, and that creature isn’t with you.”
Scott let go of George and grabbed his father by the lapels of his very expensive suit, dragging him so close he could smell the wine he’d had with his supper. His demon side watched quietly, not intervening… yet . “You listen to me. I’m done being civilized. My blissful one is worth ten of you.” His fists clenched tighter in the silk material as he yanked him still closer until their noses were nearly touching. He held his stare, seeing his father's eyes widen with shock. “Fate gave me a gift, despite what you believe, and I am worthy of it.” He felt it deep in his core. George’s love came through their bond, driving him on. “I am worthy of my honey bear. Nothing will change that.” He glanced at Asmodeus. “Nothing. I will fight whoever tries to prove differently, and I will fucking win, you hear?” he demanded, his demon coming to the fore, uncaring that the demon king could tear them to pieces, not when it came to George.
Asmodeus rose, towering over them, fathomless dark eyes assessed him. “Have you finished?”
Scott released his father, making him stagger back and have to jerk to right himself or fall over. His mother then rose and went to him. The pair stared at him like they’d never seen him before. They hadn’t, because they’d never seen who he was.
“Yes,” he answered with a more civil tongue as George came and tugged Scott into his side in a protective move that set Scott’s pulse thumping for a whole different reason.
“To be clear, you arranged for me to come to your home, so that you could complain about your son’s choice of blissful one? That you wish for me to undo what Fate has chosen to give to Scott? Is that correct?”
Iciness dripped from each word and the hairs over Scott's body stiffened like an icy spray had blasted them. Tension radiated off George, who never took his gaze off Asmodeus.
“Why yes, it needs to be sorted,” his father answered with probably a little too much condescension than he should have when aimed at Asmodeus. His mother nodded, offering a vapid smile.
“Nothing needs sorting, we’re mated. You ain’t changin’ that.”
Asmodeus gave George a fleeting look that Scott thought was all respect and something else, regret. “On that, we agree.” He reached out a clawed hand and placed it against Scott’s shirt. “Fate has spoken.”
The hand fell away, and Scott got a weird feeling coursing through him. Had the king done something to him? He glanced at George, unsure what to make of it all.
George shrugged, but a gleam of amusement appeared in the depth of his gaze when he turned his attention to those in the room watching them wearing matching expressions of doubt. “We done?”
“I—”
Asmodeus gave his father a withering look that shut him up. “For now,” he replied when looking at George.
George nodded. “Good, let’s go home.”
Scott gave his parents one last look. “If you ever find the part of decency—of love—that was missing when it comes to me, and now to my blissful one, you know where I work. Until that time, I won’t be back.” As he left, a part of him grieved the loss of something he had never had.
Back in their home a moment later, a sob escaped, and then another. George held him, whispering soothing words. When the weight relinquished its hold, Scott felt hallowed out and freer.
George wiped the tears from his cheeks as they held each other. “Feel better?”
Scott considered it for a long moment. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He kissed George, tasting his own salty tears. “What do you think Asmodeus meant by ‘fate has spoken’?”
George chuckled and glanced down at his belly. “We’ll find out in a few months’ time.”
“What…” Scott glanced down, wide-eyed as his brain caught up. “No… holy crap… how… what… I’m gonna faint.”
Scooped off the floor in a move that would never grow old. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
A baby.
We’re having a baby.
A Baby.
Scott’s demon laughed his blue ass off. Thank the demon realm, the demon is finally out of the bag. Or will it be a bear?