Chapter 4 Dom
Dom
It must be some code the two of them had between them, and I only figured it out after listening to his voicemails.
I went to work with worry chewing away at me. If he were sick, or in trouble, or hurt, I wouldn’t know until it was too late. I could tell he’d been at the hospital, that something had happened, but he didn’t leave Molly any details.
I texted him from my phone, but all I got was silence.
Even when I messaged him non-stop like I was drunk, he still ignored me.
After all the shit we'd been through, I wish he could still trust me if it was serious enough. Which was fucking hypocritical of me, but I couldn’t stop myself wanting to be the only one he leant on.
By midday, I couldn’t sit still knowing he needed someone.
I called him from my desk during my lunch break, throat tight, holding my breath.
He answered on the last ring, and my breath rushed from me.
“Dom?” he answered numbly. “Are you okay?”
I rocked forwards in my chair, my elbows landing on my desk. My head dropped as relief swept through me.
“I should be asking you that. You sound awful. What’s going on?”
“It’s just work stuff,” he croaked.
There was a long pause, and I could feel he wasn’t going to say any more, but I wasn’t letting him go. He needed me.
“Okay, look, I made too much food last night and I want you to come over for dinner.”
“Dom, I… I’ve had a really hard night.” The slight tremor in his voice had me itching to put my arms around him and kiss away the hurt. If I were beside him, I’d already be pulling him close.
“What happened, Harry?”
He breathed a heavy sigh. “I just need to rest.”
“Then come over tonight. Let me take care of you, handsome.”
There was a sharp hiss of breath and a low thud from the end of the line. He went completely silent. I couldn’t even hear him breathe.
I was tempted to promise I wouldn't hit on him, but it was obvious it wasn't the time for teasing.
“Harry? What's happening?”
“I’m fine. I just…” There was another shaky sigh.
“Then you’ll come over? Come on, I bet it’s been ages since you’ve had a proper meal.”
There was another pause before he replied.
“Okay, fine,” he groaned. I was pretty sure it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had said in every message he left for Molly that he needed her. And I could be that for him. “I’ll be there at eight,” he mumbled.
I closed my eyes, relief pouring through me.
“Good,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”
***
I could tell as soon as I opened my door and laid eyes on Harry that whatever had happened had totally wrecked him.
I didn’t hesitate. I reached out, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him to my chest. I drew in his scent, loving how gentle he was in my arms.
He was stiff for a second before his body sagged, his hands gripping my waist as he moaned, burying his face in my shirt.
I kept down the pride rumbling through me, choosing to tuck his head under my chin instead. Strands of loose chestnut hair tickled my nose, and I sank into him. I had no idea when I might touch him like that again.
“Hey,” I murmured, stroking his back through his jacket. I loved how wide he was, how easily his skin dented under my fingers. There was no hard muscle, just pure softness.
He responded with a heavy sigh that shook his body as he pressed harder into me.
I stayed as still as I could. Just holding him was enough to soothe me, but I wanted to do the same for him.
Harry moved back, and I loosened my hold. He looked up at me with a kind of openness I knew I was going to lose soon.
He was obviously shattered; the bags under his eyes were like the weight pulling him down.
My poor resolve weakened, and I cupped his face, loving the way his eyelids shuttered as I came closer. I went slowly, tender, giving him the chance to push me away if he wanted to. But he relaxed under my touch.
I lifted my thumbs, wiping the dust from his eyes with gentle strokes. “What happened, handsome?” I asked hoarsely. Even when he was suffering, I was still taking advantage of him.
He didn’t reply, his expression darkening as he avoided answering me.
Harry trembled, his head tipping back as he drew in another breath. I shouldn't have tempted myself. There was so much I could get away with when his expression was that empty.
My thumbs trailed his cheeks, so close to his lips. It wasn’t the time. Not yet. Instead, my fingers slipped down to his shoulder, and I held him there as his hands bunched my shirt.
“Why don’t you come inside?” I said. “I just finished preparing the food.”
I released him, stepping back and turning so I didn’t waver and drop my lips to his and make those pained moans.
“We can eat on the sofa if you want,” I called out behind me as the door clicked shut.
My flat was open-plan, with just a kitchen counter separating the living room. I liked the idea of Harry watching me as I prepared a plate for him.
I was at the counter when I turned around. “Hey, do you want a drink?” I asked. But I stopped instantly as I laid my eyes on him.
He was on the sofa, staring at the floor with stricken eyes, his head in his hands, his body shaking.
I was there instantly. Fuck the chilli and the plate going cold and the tacos and whatever. I shot across the kitchen and jumped over the back of the sofa, landing right next to him. There was no way I was leaving him alone when he looked like that.
“Shit, Harry.” I bent over him as I searched his face. “What happened?”
He gave me another blank stare.
I put my hand on his thigh, the other on his shoulder, and I gently pulled him back. “Hey. Come on.” I tried to sound calm, but there was too much worry in my voice.
I encouraged him to lie back on the sofa, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
“I was at the hospital for twenty hours.” His voice cracked on the last word. “There was an accident.” He shook his head. “Car pile-up.” He croaked. “Rush hour. A full bus, a lorry, fifty cars. I only stopped this morning.”
And I’d spent yesterday evening see-sawing between whether I should say fuck it and sext him again, or stop making things worse, all while he was dealing with that. Harsh guilt cut through me, and I reached for him.
I should have asked him why he was at the hospital, but I didn’t want him to have to say any more than he needed to.
“I lost twelve people, Dom,” he whispered, his look helpless as he ran a hand through his hair, choosing instead to press his palm hard against his forehead, his eyes squeezing shut, his lips thin as his jaw clenched. “Twelve lives,” he choked.
I never knew what to say when he was going through it.
No wonder he asked for Molly so much. It wasn’t the first time he had relied on me like that, but I couldn't help the same way she could.
Over the years, whenever the hospital work tore him up, I did my best to be with him and to get him to see the positives, whatever they were.
The closest I’d come to anything similar was being told a witness had been murdered, and it was my fault. All I could do was offer him support.
I took his hand, removing his palm from his head, watching as the white imprint on his skin faded back to pink. I stroked his fingers with my thumb, resisting the urge to take it further.
Harry's eyes went wide as he watched his hands as I laid them on mine, flexing in my grasp.
“How many people did you save?” I asked softly.
I knew Harry wouldn’t have given up, not even at the last minute. He was more determined than anyone I knew.
His gaze shot back up to mine, searching me for something as he answered begrudgingly. “Seventeen.” He admitted, his gaze sliding away quickly, darkness consuming him again.
“Doesn’t that balance it out?” I felt like a fucking idiot, but I needed some way to lift his spirits that didn’t involve spreading my body over his and giving him a fresh taste of my mouth.
“Not like that. It doesn’t work like that.”
I couldn’t stand the despair in his voice. I wanted to take it all away for him. I’d take it on myself if I could, just so he didn’t look so lost.
I edged closer, my thigh bumping his, lifting my arm. “Come here,” I said.
It was more of an order, one I didn’t want him to refuse.
Harry dropped another breath as he let me grip his arms. I pulled him to me again, clutching at his back, his head resting on my shoulder, his weight pressed into me.
“I know you did everything you could,” I said, nudging my nose against his hair. I wanted him to hear my heart pounding, feel the warmth of my skin as blood rushed through me, especially down to my cock as he shuffled closer to me. Even though it wasn't the time for it.
“It’s never easy.” His sigh was so heavy that my chest clenched with need. “There are some things I can get used to, but never that...”
I kissed his forehead, breathing in the scent of his hair, stroking him, loving him as his body shook. I could feel him forcing back his tears.
I knew it added to my long list of hypocrisies, but I didn’t want him to hide anything from me.
“You can cry if you want to,” I murmured, pulling him closer, his hips nearly on my lap as I held him.
His body shuddered, his fingers digging into my shoulder as a pained gasp fell from his lips, and he let go.