Chapter 39
Quinn
Quinn paced downstairs while he waited for his lawyer to arrive and take the tin box containing the damning evidence that would put Perry in jail.
He felt like he should be able to calm down now that they had a lead, but after everything that had happened, he just wanted this part of his life to be over.
He wanted to hand the evidence off and walk away from the insanity for a while, if only to clear his head so he could think rationally about what would come next.
Quinn didn’t care about the court and interviews with investigators, but he cared about how August would react. Seeing the man he loved losing his mind in the basement had been an eye-opening experience, and Quinn knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.
Therapy was going well, but it wasn’t an overnight cure. More episodes and nightmares were bound to follow, and Quinn had to be prepared for how to handle them.
And that wasn’t a deal-breaker for him. Quinn knew this wasn’t the smoothest start to their relationship, but he was determined to build something with August, and he wanted to play an active role in his healing.
It was becoming more obvious whenever he thought about their future and the journey to get there. August was his person—he had always been his person, and if Quinn wanted a happily ever after with him, he would have to fight for it.
Quinn jumped when there was a knock on the front door, startling him from his staring contest with one of the old paintings on the wall. He felt like he was on autopilot as he went to the door and handed the tin box over without saying a word.
His lawyer was a good guy, and he understood the high stress of the situation. They would talk later, once Quinn knew August was okay, and he had the spare time.
It turned out that sending his lawyer away quickly was a good call, because Niko came running down the stairs just as the door was shut and locked again, looking panicked.
“August?” Quinn asked.
Niko was wearing only a towel, and his hair was dripping wet, so when he frantically shook his head, he sent droplets scattering everywhere.
“The shower was fine, but after we got out, his eyes got distant again, and he won’t move from the corner of the bedroom. Nollan is trying to calm his breathing down by talking him through it, but nothing is working.”
No, it wouldn’t. Quinn suspected that August needed something more than laces around his wrist and breathing techniques. That wasn’t something Nollan and Niko could do, but that’s why Quinn was here.
“Can you take Nollan out for a while?” Quinn asked, already heading for the stairs so he could get to August. “Let him have a break too and eat something. I’ll let you know when I have August under control.”
Niko nodded as he led Quinn to the bedroom, unable to say anything else.
Quinn was prepared for what he walked into, but it still hurt to see August cowering in the darkest corner of the bedroom, like a terrified child expecting a beating.
Nollan had August wrapped in a blanket and was holding him tightly, whispering softly while he stroked August’s damp hair to relax him. He looked up when Niko and Quinn arrived, eyes wide and pleading as he shushed August’s next sobbing gasp.
“I’m sorry,” said Nollan. “I tried—”
“Don’t be sorry,” Quinn said as he knelt beside the younger man, squeezing his arm to reassure him. “Leave August to me and go with Niko. I’ll make sure he gets to the game tonight, but you guys need to step away and let me do this.”
Nollan was a sweet and easygoing guy, so he didn’t argue or offer to stay. His gaze was downcast as he nodded and stood, giving Quinn a weak thumbs-up before shuffling to Niko and bumping shoulders with him.
Quinn placed a hand on the shaking pile of blankets, smiling at Niko and Nollan as they left the room and shut the door to give them privacy. Quinn waited until he heard them go down the stairs before his focus swung to August and the task at hand.
The suitcase with his ropes was under the bed, and Quinn knew August was going to need a deeper session to get out of the panicked headspace he was in, but he needed to hear consent first.
Quinn had been…hesitant to use them since he realized August had been forced to give up control in the past. He had hoped to reconfirm August’s boundaries after the hockey game, but they would have to readjust the schedule now and do things on the fly.
“August, you need the ropes,” said Quinn. “If you give me a green light, I can make you feel better, baby.”
Quinn waited, giving August time to answer even though his terrified gasps had Quinn’s adrenaline rushing through his body, making him shaky.
“Green—green light. Please.”
Quinn crawled over to the bed since it was only a short distance away and grabbed the suitcase handle so he could drag it out. He was trying to be fast, so he stood, seized one of the memory foam pillows from the bed for August’s knees and tossed it onto the floor, then set the suitcase beside it.
“Over here, August,” Quinn ordered, keeping a close watch on the shaking form under the blanket. He didn’t want to be too overbearing, but he knew August needed to be told what to do for him to feel safe.
It was a balancing act when August was reactive like this, but Quinn had spent enough time with the man to know how to handle him.
August slipped the blanket off his head just like Quinn knew he would, staring dazedly at him. His shoulders were still rising and falling rapidly, but one look at the suitcase and the pillow on the floor made him catch his breath, pausing his hyperventilation.
“Kneel on the pillow and put your hands behind your back,” said Quinn.
The order was risky; he knew it was risky because of August’s father. Quinn was desperate to erase that evil bastard from August’s memories and reprogram his mind to feel safe in the vulnerable position, and this might be the perfect time for the push.
August could say no. The safe word would stop Quinn instantly if things became too much, but that was the beauty of what they were doing.
August, a man who never felt in control of his thoughts and actions, could now choose how he wanted to proceed.
By giving him a choice, Quinn was handing back his bodily autonomy one session at a time—rebuilding his shattered confidence knot by knot.
August was shivering and naked when he withdrew from the blankets, but he crawled over to the pillow and knelt like Quinn had asked, arms folded behind his back and head bowed.
“Green light,” August said hoarsely through chattering teeth.
Quinn said nothing as he touched his hand to August’s hair, stroking his fingers through the white locks in a slow, soothing rhythm. He let August sit and regulate—let him pause and refocus his mind on the one touch until everything else faded away.
Quinn’s chest finally loosened when August stopped panting, the shaking sobs ebbing into quiet breaths. He didn’t react to the soft drip of blood hitting the floor, careful not to disturb the calm August was sinking into.
When Quinn felt like he had August soothed enough to move on to the next step, he let his hand fall, brushing his knuckles across August’s cheek as he pulled away. He kept his movements quiet and slow to avoid distracting August from his trance as he removed coils of rope from the suitcase.
Quinn studied August just in case he showed signs of distress, but even when Quinn slid the rope across August’s wrist to test him, there was nothing.
“Green light,” August said again, this time with no chattering teeth.
“Good boy,” Quinn purred, giving August the affirmation he was seeking.
August shivered for an entirely different reason this time, and Quinn smiled. Knowing he was about to save August from the dark place he was caught in made him feel alive.
Fuck. He loved this man. Quinn had never been an equal in any relationship before—but August was his, and Quinn needed him just as much as August needed Quinn. The balance was perfect, like painting a picture that drew attention to the entire image, not just scattered elements.
They made sense. Everything about them made sense, even with betrayal, trauma and pain buried in their foundation. Quinn could see it; the fortress of happiness that they could become once they built over the skeletons of their past.
Quinn draped the rope over August’s shoulders to let him know it was there, giving him a second to prepare before he began tying knots on the upper part of his body.
This session wouldn’t take a sexual turn unless August needed it, but Quinn couldn’t help but admire how lovely August’s pecs and torso looked decorated in deep red lines.
Quinn kept things breathable but tight to give August the pressure he was looking for. August had given him permission weeks ago to leave bruises, knowing his teammates would see them, but Quinn tried his best to tighten the areas he knew would bruise less while keeping the others loose.
Just like the last time, August surrendered to the binds beautifully, not struggling, no matter how restrained his movements were. It was like working with a living, breathing doll—one that Quinn touched, kissed and praised as ropes were knotted down limp arms to clasped hands.
This was the scary part, because once Quinn bound August’s wrists together and stepped away, August was either going to stay in subspace or fight.
Quinn hoped he wouldn’t panic. He wanted August to feel so safe that he stayed blissful no matter how much control Quinn took from him, but the last knots would tell him all he needed to know.
“August—”
“Green light,” August groaned, fingers flexing. “How—how does this feel more comfortable than a blanket?”
Quinn twisted the rope around August’s wrists and secured the knot, pressing a kiss to his open palm before straightening. When he stepped in front of him, Quinn smiled, sliding a finger beneath August’s chin and tipping his head up, silently showing him how proud he was.