Chapter 13
Bentley
I’m cold. Several things tell me something is wrong as I shift on the couch, and I refuse to open my eyes because it’ll mean my omega has run away from me.
The blanket of warmth and weight of my omega is missing, and his scent is fading away, despite my breathing in deeper to cling to it. My arm flops out to feel where Tav was earlier, but the space he once occupied is also growing cold.
Ugh, where is he?
The cum drying on my skin doesn’t help to keep me safely cocooned in the warm depths of sleep, and everything in this goddamned world seems determined to wake me the fuck up. Sitting up, I rub the scruff on my jaw as I gaze around the dark loft, determined to find the clues I need to find Tav.
Floyd is scratching at the bathroom door and whining a hideous sound, which is undoubtedly another reason I woke up.
“Hey, boy,” I murmur, my voice deeper than usual as I haul myself to my feet. Floyd looks over his shoulder before scrunching his body against the door again and pawing at it.
“Is Tav in there?” I ask.
Something is tugging at my senses, but I can’t put my finger on it. Rubbing my chest, I gaze at the door as I come closer. Something is wrong.
“Let me get in there, okay? I need you to move though, because I may need to break the door down if he doesn’t open up,” I explain. “I don’t want to hurt you. Tav will kill me if I do, and I happen to think you’re good for him.”
I’m used to talking things out with animals. In high school, I picked up an after school job branding cattle, and would soothingly talk to them then too.
I suppose the habit has stuck with me.
“Move,” I remind him, and he does this very odd butt scoot with his head down.
I’ll say it again; this animal has been through some shit. I don’t care how adamant Tav is to the contrary. I’m convinced they must be kindred spirits.
My heart flip flops as my mind thinks up all the possible things that could have gone wrong in their lives, and I have to keep myself from growling. I fucking despise how creative my mind can be when coming up with terrible outcomes.
Fuck me. Get it together, Bentley.
“Tav?” I ask, knocking on the door. “Baby, can you say something? Floyd is upset and needs to know you’re okay. Please help me out.”
My new cohort in crime whines loudly, backing me up, and I nod encouragingly.
“Good boy,” I murmur, shoving my shoulder against the door. Fuck, it doesn’t even move.
Shitkickers it is. I fell asleep with my shoes on, which is why I don’t flinch away from raising my foot and kicking at the door until it begins to cave in on itself.
Making a giant hole, I push my hand in and unlock the door, barely breathing hard. My heart, however, is pounding.
Every one of my instincts is screaming that I need to get in here.
“I got it, Floyd,” I promise, glancing at the dog who is trying to see through the hole I made. “Go lay down so I can go inside. I don’t want to worry about you hurting yourself. I need to be able to concentrate completely on Tav.”
Floyd’s milky eye stares heavily at me before he goes to his bed to lay down, and all I can do is hope that I’m not going to let him down.
Wrenching the door open, I curse under my breath as I see blood all over the white tile.
Tav is butt ass naked slouched on the edge of the tub with his dick out and a razor blade dangling from numb fingers.
“Tav?” I ask, rushing forward and dropping in front of him. “What did you do?”
My fingers move up his inner thigh almost instinctively, and I yank down a white towel to staunch the blood. He went too deep. This wouldn’t have been the best way to kill himself.
Right? Of course I’m right. Tav made a miscalculation. He wouldn’t have tried to kill himself while I’m here. Otherwise, it would be the world’s most fucked up call for help.
I’m just grateful I can be here for him now.
Even in my head, I talk through shit. I can only stay calm and keep my hands steady if I freak out in my mind.
Tav doesn’t need to hear me screaming “why” because he’ll internalize that shit. No, I have to remain his rock. I’ll be that for him because there is no other way through this.
“Open your eyes, baby. Be my good boy, please,” I rasp, my voice full of pain and worry. “Stay with me, sweetheart.”
My hand cups his face, tipping his head back as I apply pressure on his cuts.
“I ruin everything,” he whispers, his eyes opening slowly.
There’s so much hate in his words for himself, it brings tears to my eyes.
“What happened?”
“The voices told me I was worthless,” he says. “Cutting shuts them up, but I went…too deep.”
“The limp…” I trail off. “You tell those goddamned voices that they’re wrong, Tav. Being mine means that if you die, I’ll follow you down kicking and screaming to bring your ass back to me. I fucking see you. I want you to wake me up when you’re struggling, come to me no matter what.”
“I’m such a freak. How could you want someone like me when you’re so…perfect,” he says, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.
“So are you,” I gasp, shaking my head. I’m losing the battle against the heat behind my lids, the one that means I’m going to cry too. Fuck it. “You’re mine regardless of how clean you need things to be, or when you’re melting down, or whatever else your brain throws at us. Okay? I love it all.”
The razor hits the tile to punctuate my declaration, and my lips slam down on his. He tastes salty from the emotions we’re experiencing, and also sweet like marshmallows. It’s almost perfect.
It’s him and me against the world.
And when he forgets, I’ll remind him.