Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dillon lay there with Coke and dozed for a good while. Then he slipped out of bed, fed the beasts, texted Nate and Tag and Beau, and grabbed a granola bar.
He needed to move. To bounce so he could process everything.
What the ever-loving fuck? What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck!
Dillon scrubbed the counters in the kitchenette, even though he wanted to wash the couch. That might wake Coke.
His chest felt so tight. Who did that to their kid?
Who would…? Coke was…
God, he wanted to hurt someone. Scream. Anything but just take it. Coke, he was just so accepting, as if he deserved everything his damned family had put on him.
He wanted to go back in time and just… Argh. Kick some ass.
What the hell was in this glass? He scrubbed it, trying to get the goo out.
No wonder Coke had such immense pressure to save everyone.
“Hey, cowboy. You okay?” Coke’s voice sounded blown.
“I am. I’m scrubbing this thing.” He grinned over his shoulder.
“No one’s been here in months, maybe even a couple of years.”
“I’m just taking out my ire on gunk.” When Coke didn’t answer, he glanced back again. “Your parents, babe. I have rage against them.”
It fucking killed him that Coke was so fucking confused.
He washed his hands off, dried them on a towel, then headed over to Coke to put his hands on Coke’s shoulders. “I love you.”
“Well, that’s good, given that I love you.”
“Yep. Boudreaux is corrupting the bassets, by the way. Uh, Beau and Sam will come get him, right?”
“Yeah. They’re letting us make up.”
“Are they?” Dillon cackled, his belly laugh surprising him. “They’re good guys. So, does this mean I have to yell at you so we can really have something to make up for?”
“I think I’m the one in the wrong, here, cowboy.”
“Mmm. That’s what I mean.” He kissed Coke’s chin before he walked to the fridge and pulled out an orange juice. “Drink up and I will shout at you for running off on me.”
“I didn’t try to.”
Dillon knew that. That was even scarier.
“Drink.” Coke needed some sugar, some liquid. “I get that, which is why I’m so upset. It’s instinct for you, and I need you to start thinking of me as part of the go-kit, babe.”
He kept touching, his hands needing to feel Coke, to know that they were connected. Dillon figured it would be days before the panic of Coke disappearing faded. Maybe weeks.
“I didn’t think I could bear it, seeing you ashamed of me.”
That’s what Nate had said. Tag, too. Dillon didn’t think that was possible. So he turned the idea back on Coke. “Were you ashamed of me, even when I was in the shower with David and you thought I was going back to him?”
“Never. My feelings were hurt, more than anything, but you love someone and want them to be happy.”
“See?” He poked Coke’s chest with one finger. “So, what do you do now when something freaks you out?”
“Grab you and run.”
“Yes!” He did a little victory dance. “That’s my bullfighter.”
“You butthead.” Coke rolled his eyes and blushed, but there was the ghost of a smile there, a real one that was just for him.
“Kiss me, babe. Then I’ll heat us up some food.”
Coke leaned in and kissed him, the pressure firm and heated, just enough to prove that Coke wanted him. It wasn’t about sex. It was about being people.
He was Coke’s people. Coke’s family. Coke’s clown.
That was the most important thing in his life now and Dillon wasn’t giving it up without a hell of a fight.
Oh, fuck that. Dillon wasn’t giving it up. Full stop. Coke Pharris was his, balls to bones. He’d fight anyone he had to in order to keep his man.
Even Coke.