Chapter 12
Cain
I’m a monster.
He really believed that.
Fucking hell, my heart was breaking for him. I wanted to go over there and pick him up, hold him against me, and spend however long I needed to reassure him that he wasn’t a monster, that I wasn’t afraid of what he might do, that he deserved to be rid of those awful things.
But I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to touch him right now, and that stung more than I wanted to admit.
“You’re not a monster. You’re Bowen. You’re just Bowen, and you’re going to stay Bowen. Okay?”
His face crumpled, and he drew his knees up so he could drop his head onto them as the sobs racked his body.
They were loud and full of despair, and I couldn’t leave him like that.
I scooped him up and carried him to the couch, and he wrapped himself around me so tight that I could feel every tremor vibrate through his body into mine.
He let me hold him and turned his face into my chest, wailing and choking and sobbing and wheezing as I rubbed his back and spoke to him in a soft, quiet voice.
Dad always told me that crying was a way to get the hurt in your heart out of your body so it wouldn’t hurt so much inside. I didn’t cry a lot, but I’d never cried the way Bowen did, at least not since Dad died.
He must have a world of hurt in his heart.
I didn’t know how long he cried like that, but I patiently held him and let him get it all out. When his sobs grew quieter and he wasn’t trembling as much, I wanted to chase away whatever sorrow still lingered.
I wanted to see him smile, to hear him laugh. I didn’t want him to be afraid anymore—of anything. I wanted him to know he didn’t have to be.
I brushed his hair away from his face, my fingers sliding through all the tears he’d shed. “It’s okay to be afraid, but you don’t have to be. You deserve this. You deserve to be rid of these things that hurt you. You deserve good things.”
If he didn’t believe it now, I’d keep telling him until he did.
“You don’t know the things I’ve done,” he choked out.
“I don’t need to. I already saw that you had no control over what was happening to you, and that you were terrified of it.
I can see how scared you are right now, too, and that tells me everything I need to know.
It tells me you’re definitely not a monster.
Monsters don’t get scared and they don’t care what happens to other people.
You’re Bowen, and you’ve been through hell, and now I’m gonna let you heal.
Let you have a life you can enjoy. That’s all I need to know and all you need to know. ”
I could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted to let himself believe that.
I understood his hesitation, why he kept his guard up; the real monsters in his life had done nothing but hurt him without a care for so long, he had no reason to believe that anything good could happen.
That he could be good. Have something good.
I’d spend a lifetime convincing him, if that’s what it took.
“And besides,” I said in a lighter tone. “Don’t you want to bite my fat bottom lip?”
His eyes lowered to my mouth, and he licked his lips. “Yes. I really, really want to.” He sniffled and stared at my mouth like he’d been mesmerized, and I laughed.
“Good. Because I want you to do that. You don’t have to be nervous, I’ll be right here to help you. That makes you feel a little better, right? Knowing you won’t be alone? That I’ll be here to help in case anything happens?”
His gaze slowly raised to mine, and he nodded.
“Okay. Will you let me get those off you now?”
He held my gaze and nodded again, and I thought maybe a small part of him trusted me, even if he didn’t realize it.
“Cain?”
“Hmm?” He was fiddling with the hem of my shirt, not looking at me.
“Thank you. For everything.”
I cupped his cheek and smiled. “You’re welcome, Bow.”
He flushed, and I knew it wasn’t with embarrassment. He liked that. A nickname.
I pressed a hard kiss to his forehead and lifted him as I stood up, carrying him over to the table. I let him keep his legs around me for the time being. He seemed to need to be touching me, so I let him.
“This won’t hurt at all,” I explained, picking out the bolt cutters. I just needed to cut the metal loops of the padlocks, and then he’d be free. “I promise.”
His face scrunched in confusion. “Promise?”
“Yeah. It’s like I’m saying it definitely won’t hurt. So when someone keeps their promise, that means that what they said would happen does happen. It’s like I’m showing you through my actions that you can trust my words.”
“Oh. Alright.”
“Alright. I need you to turn a little for me. Yeah, like that. Okay. Ready?”
His eyes were wide and fearful, so I took his hand and kissed the back of it, then placed it on my hip. His fingers curled over me, holding tight.
I watched him carefully as I took the muzzle’s padlock between the teeth of my cutters. I wasn’t sure if he would jump up and run, and I didn’t want to accidentally hurt him if he did.
I snapped the metal loop of the lock in half and it clattered to the table. Bowen cried out and buried his face in my stomach, so I set the bolt cutters down and palmed the back of his head. “It’s okay, it’s done. You’re okay. Did that hurt?”
“No,” he said into my stomach. “I just got—it was loud and it scared me.”
I was chastising myself for not warning him that it would be loud. “Sorry, I should have told you. I’m gonna take it off now, okay?”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then whispered, “Okay.”
His response was so quiet I barely heard it, but as soon as he said it, I undid the straps.
He wouldn’t pull his face away from me, so I let him stay like that for now.
He was terrified, and as much as I wanted to pause this and reassure him, I was worried he would change his mind.
I wanted to get these off him before he did.
“I’ll do the collar now. Are you ready?”
“Can I stay like this?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“Alright. Try not to move. This one’s gonna be loud, too.”
This lock was easier to break, like it was a lot older than the other one. This time Bowen just startled a little and kept himself plastered against me.
“You’re all done.”
He was trembling, keeping his face buried in my stomach, so I asked gently, “Can I take the collar off?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” His voice was a faint rasp.
The collar was made of two pieces of metal held together by the padlock and hasps, and with the padlock gone, the pieces would easily come apart. I gently pulled them apart and away from his neck. He made a small, terrified sound when the chain rattled as it hit the table.
“Okay. Good job, you did so well, Bow. Do you wanna take the other one off?”
“Yeah.”
He let me tip his head back, those beautiful eyes finding mine and resting there. I brushed my thumbs against his temple, slid my fingers down to the muzzle, feeling my way to the back and never taking my gaze from his.
He whimpered when I pulled it off his face. “Did that hurt you?”
His eyes welled, but he shook his head the tiniest bit. “No.”
I set the muzzle by the collar and smiled at him. “All done.”
He looked terrified, and I couldn’t help cupping his cheeks and pressing a hard kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s done. You’re okay.”
I kneeled between his legs again, keeping my hands on him as I let my gaze drift over him.
“I’m gonna wash you off real quick, okay?”
He nodded and watched me grab a cloth that was waiting in a bowl of water. I gently smoothed it over his cheeks and neck, taking away the last of the grime, the final remnants of his suffering.
His neck looked similar to his face; white and pink grooves had formed where the collar rubbed the most. Smooth scar tissue, skin that had been rubbed raw for years and years and years.
He’d bear those scars for the rest of his life, but he would never have to wear those fucking things again.
He lifted his fingers to his face, slowly bringing them to his cheeks and touching the grooves that had been worn into his skin. He gasped, his eyes flashing to mine, wide with surprise.
Was he upset he had scars?
“Don’t let those bother you. Unless they hurt? Do they—”
Tears welled in his eyes, and a broad, beautiful smile stretched across his face.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, an unprecedented feeling swelling in my chest so fast I thought I was about to burst wide open.
“Oh,” he said softly, moving his fingers to his mouth and tracing his smile. It only got wider, and a tear spilled down the left side of his face. He laughed, then kept stroking his lips, as if he was enraptured by the feel of his own mouth, as if it was the very first time he’d ever touched it.
For all I knew, it was.
With quick movements, he reached into his pocket and pulled out—
The compact mirror. He’d been carrying that around with him?
He cracked it open and stared at his reflection, awe and wonder and pure, unfiltered happiness in every inch of his face, his eyes, his being.
I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life than him, right now, seeing himself like this. Free. Just Bowen, unchained, unrestrained, completely, utterly, entrancingly free.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, and my voice was a hoarse whisper because my throat had thickened so much.
His glistening eyes lifted from the mirror and locked onto mine, the rawest emotions radiating from him in slow, deep bursts that felt like they were curling around me, drawing me forward.
A tear spilled over his lashes, racing down his cheek. Then another. The wobbly smile he gave me was the purest, most precious thing I’d ever seen.
That I’d ever been given.
“Cain,” he choked out. His throat sounded thicker than mine. His eyes lowered to my mouth, and he launched himself up and wrapped his arms around my neck.
“Whoa.” I caught him against me, holding him tight as he wound his legs around my waist and locked his ankles together.
He tilted his face up, eyes riveted to my lips, and didn’t wait a second longer to close the distance between us.
His teeth on my bottom lip were gentle at first. Hesitant. I made some kind of noise but I really wasn’t able to pay attention to anything other than the feel of his teeth, his lips, and his tongue as it shyly traced my lip.
He tasted like apples, crisp and fresh and sweet. When he moaned and arched his back, pressing himself against me and driving his tongue past my lips, I tilted my head and responded in kind.
I’d only ever read about kissing in books, had no clue what I was doing, but Bowen was so eager as he took the lead.
He moaned into my mouth, sucking on my tongue, my lips, nipping me and kissing and tasting.
He was everywhere, like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do first, to taste first. Like he wanted to do all of it at once.
His soft lips on mine, the wet heat of his tongue, the stinging bite of his teeth—it was an onslaught of overwhelming sensations. I opened my eyes and his were already open, like he’d been watching me, cataloging my reactions.
Fuck.
He drew back only to tilt his head and lean in to lick along my jaw and suck his way down my neck.
Heat was building in my groin and every part of me was beyond sensitive; I was too aware of the hardness of his nipples that were rubbing against my chest through his shirt, his cock pressing into my stomach, the velvety feel of his tongue as he tasted every inch of me he could reach.
“I’m gonna—” Fuck, I was gonna come just from this. I grabbed his head to hold him still because if he licked me one more time, I’d lose it.
He made a sound of frustration that was more like a growl and glared at me.
“Wait,” I panted. “I just need a second, okay?”
His eyes darted around my face and when they locked onto mine, there was a glint in them, like he’d just thought of something. He let go of my shoulder and reached around his back and then beneath him, still holding my gaze, and when his hand found the hard ridge of my cock, he smiled.
“Can I please?” he asked, and I had to let go of his head so I could grab onto his hand and stop him from squeezing me because I was about to burst.
“Bowen…”
He rolled his hips to rub himself against me. “Please, Cain?”
I didn’t know what he was specifically asking to do, but whatever it was I’d let him.
Anything he wanted, I’d give him—even if it meant giving him every part of myself.
He could have it all.