Chapter 13 #2
“I sat in my car and watched her pick up the mail,” Cal continued, furiously wiping at his eyes, but the tears kept coming.
“She looked happy. She looked… normal. And I realized… she didn’t escape because she was scared.
She left because she wanted a do over. She wanted a life that didn’t include the mistake she made with my dad. ”
He choked on a sob, turning his face away again.
“She left me to rot,” Cal whispered. “She left me in that house with him for years so she could go play house with someone else. As far as I’m concerned? She’s just as bad as he is. Maybe worse. Because she knew what he was doing, and she left me there anyway.”
I closed the distance. I grabbed his shoulders and turned him toward me.
“She didn’t leave you because you were a mistake,” I said fiercely, forcing him to look at me. “She left because she was weak. That is on her. Not you.”
Cal looked at me, shaking his head, his eyes drowning. “I feel like I’m back there, Si. Every time the phone rings, I feel like I’m twelve years old and hiding in the closet waiting for the door to open.”
The storm outside had intensified. Thunder rattled the windowpanes.
We were sharing one of the king beds. Cal had passed out from sheer emotional exhaustion around midnight, but his sleep wasn’t peaceful.
He was tossing, his limbs jerking. He was muttering, sounds of distress caught in his throat.
“No,” he whimpered, high and thin. “Don’t. Please.”
I woke up instantly. “Cal.”
“I’m sorry,” Cal gasped in his sleep, curling into a tight ball, protecting his head with his arms. “I’ll be quiet. I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
The word Daddy hit me like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t Deadlock. He wasn’t twenty-four. He was a terrified child, begging for mercy.
I reached out, shaking his shoulder. “Cal! Wake up!”
He woke up screaming.
He scrambled back against the headboard, chest heaving, eyes wide and unseeing in the dark. He was hyperventilating, clawing at the sheets, trying to get away from a ghost.
“He’s here,” Cal gasped, looking around the room frantically. “I heard him. He’s coming up the stairs.”
“He’s not here,” I said, moving to kneel on the mattress in front of him. “Cal, look at me.”
“He’s gonna find me,” Cal sobbed, pressing his hands over his ears, his eyes closed. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t mean to.”
“Cal!” I grabbed his wrists, gently pulling his hands away from his ears. “Look at me! It’s Silas! You’re in Seattle!”
Cal blinked, his eyes focusing on my face.
“Silas?”
“I’m right here,” I promised, my voice steady and low. “You’re safe. He is a thousand miles away. Nobody is coming up the stairs.”
Cal crumbled.
He collapsed forward into my chest, burying his face in my neck, sobbing. It was an ugly, raw sound, the sound of something breaking. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight, rocking him while the thunder shook the room.
It took twenty minutes for the shaking to stop.
Cal pulled back, wiping his face. He looked wrecked. His eyes were swollen, his lips bitten raw. He looked small.
“I hate this,” Cal whispered, his voice hoarse. “I feel… scraped out. I feel dirty.”
“You’re exhausted,” I said softly, thumbing a tear from his cheek. “Try to sleep.”
“I can’t,” Cal said, panic flaring again. “If I close my eyes, I’m back there. I need…” He looked at me, his eyes desperate and open. “I need you to bring me back. I need to feel you. Everywhere.”
I grabbed his hand, holding it tight, but I didn’t move yet.
“Cal,” I said, making sure he was looking at me. “You’re upset. You’re hurt. Is this really what you want? I don’t want you to use this just to numb it out.”
Cal squeezed my hand, shaking his head.
“I don’t want to numb it,” Cal whispered. “I want to feel safe. And this…” He gestured between us. “This is the only place I feel safe. I want you, Si.”
“Okay,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Lay back.”
Usually, Cal was the one who took charge. But tonight, he lay back against the pillows, surrendering completely.
I moved over him. I didn’t rush. I treated his body like it was something sacred. I kissed his forehead, his eyelids, the salt of his tears.
I moved down his body, kissing every inch of skin, worshipping him. I felt the tension slowly bleed out of him as I moved lower.
“Silas,” Cal breathed, his voice trembling.
I didn’t stop. I moved between his legs, nudging his thighs apart. He opened for me instantly, trusting me blindly. I kissed the inside of his thigh, hearing his breath hitch.
“Is this okay?” I whispered.
“Yes,” Cal choked. “Please.”
I tugged his briefs down and lowered my head. I didn’t just touch him; I worshipped him. I used my tongue to rim him, tasting him, claiming him in the most intimate way possible.
Cal let out a broken, shattered noise. He didn’t try to hide or turn away. He just lay there, completely exposed, his hips bucking up slightly, seeking the pressure.
“Oh god, Si,” he moaned, his fingers gripping the sheets. “Yes. Just like that.”
I lapped at him slowly, deliberately. I wanted to erase every bad memory, every fear, and replace it with this, pleasure, heat, and safety. I wanted him to know that no part of him was dirty to me.
He was shaking again, but this time it was from pleasure. He was completely vulnerable, and I held him through it.
When he was panting and wrecked, I pulled back, sliding up his body. Cal looked at me, his face flushed, his eyes wet with a mixture of tears and arousal.
He reached up, his hand trembling as he touched my chest.
“Silas,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I murmured, brushing the hair from his forehead.
“Would you…” Cal hesitated, biting his lip, looking at me with an intensity that terrified me. “Do you want to top?”
The question hung in the heavy air.
I froze. “Cal… I’ve never… I’ve never done that.”
“I know,” Cal whispered. “Me neither. I’ve never let anyone… not like that.”
It wasn’t just a sexual offer. It was the ultimate surrender. He was offering me the only thing he had left to give, his control. He was handing me the keys to his safety.
“Are you sure?” I asked, needing to hear it again. “We don’t have to.”
“I need to feel you,” Cal said, his eyes pleading. “I want you to, Si. Please.”
I nodded slowly. My heart was hammering in my chest, a mix of anxiety and overwhelming devotion.
“Come here,” I said softly. “Scoot to the edge.”
Cal obeyed instantly, sliding down the mattress until his legs dangled off the end. I stood between his knees. It put us face to face, eye to eye.
I grabbed the lube from the nightstand. My hands were shaking slightly.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, holding his gaze. “Just breathe. Tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”
I coated my fingers and prepped him slowly. I didn’t use dirty talk. I just whispered reassurances. I watched his face for every flinch, every sigh, making sure he was with me.
“You okay?” I asked, my voice tight with concentration as I stretched him. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” Cal gasped, his hips lifting to meet my fingers. “No, it feels good. Don’t stop.”
When he was ready, I reached for the small foil square on the nightstand. My hands fumbled slightly as I tore it open, the sound loud in the quiet room. Cal watched me, patient, his eyes soft.
I rolled the condom on, my breath catching in my throat. This was real. This was happening.
I stepped closer, pressing against him.
“Look at me,” I whispered. “Is this still what you want?”
Cal met my gaze, his eyes wide and trusting.
“Yes. I want you.”
With a nod, I pushed in, agonizingly slow.
Cal let out a sharp cry, his head thrown back against the mattress, his hands gripping my forearms.
“Okay?” I stopped instantly, hovering. “Too much?”
“No,” Cal panted, tears leaking from his eyes again. “No, don’t stop. Just… don’t stop.”
I sank down, inch by inch, until I was buried deep inside him. The feeling was overwhelming, the heat, the tightness, the absolute possession.
“God, Silas,” Cal sobbed, wrapping his legs around my waist. “You’re so deep.”
I didn’t move for a long moment. I just held him, letting our bodies adjust, letting the reality of what we were doing settle over us.
We were breaking our own rules. We were crossing a line we could never uncross.
I started to move. Every thrust was a question, Are you okay? Are you mine?, and Cal’s whimpers were the answer.
I leaned down, bracing my hands on either side of his head, kissing him deeply, tasting his tears.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered against his mouth. “I’m right here.”
Cal was shaking beneath me. He was close, I could feel it in the way his body tightened, but he wasn’t there yet. He needed me.
I reached down between our sweating bodies. I wrapped my hand around his cock. He was hard, leaking, desperate.
I started to stroke him in time with my thrusts, taking complete control of his pleasure.
I whispered into his ear. “You don’t have to hold on. Let go, Cal.”
That was the breaking point. He cried out my name, a broken, beautiful sound, as he spilled warm and messy over my hand and his own stomach. His internal muscles clamped down around me, dragging me over the edge with him.
I groaned, burying my face in his neck as I came, pouring myself into him, giving him everything I had.
When it was over, I didn’t pull away immediately. I stayed close, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead. Cal was limp, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed.
“You okay?” I whispered, brushing the wet hair back from his face. “You hurting?”
Cal shook his head slowly, opening his eyes. They were hazy but clear of the panic from earlier.
“No,” he rasped. “I’m okay. Are you?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m okay.”
I pulled back gently, disposing of the condom and tossing it in the trash. I went to the bathroom and grabbed a warm washcloth.
When I came back, Cal hadn’t moved. He was watching me.
I sat on the edge of the bed. I didn’t say anything. I just gently wiped his face first, cool and soothing against his flushed skin, clearing away the sweat and the dried tears.
Then I moved down, using a clean side of the cloth to wipe his stomach and his chest, cleaning him up with the same tenderness he always showed me.
“Thank you,” Cal whispered, catching my wrist.
I kissed his knuckles. “Come here.”
We shifted back to the pillows. Cal curled up on his side immediately, his head resting on my chest, his arm thrown over my waist like a seatbelt. He looked peaceful for the first time in twenty-four hours.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
I stroked his hair, the movement automatic.
I can do this, I thought, the realization settling in my gut like a stone. I can be his safety. I can be the place he comes to when the world gets too loud.
But then the doubt crept in. The denial.
But I’m just the shelter, I told myself, feeling the ache spread through my chest. I’m the port in the storm. People stay in the shelter until the storm passes. And then… they leave.
They go back out into the sun.
Cal was a star. He was a supernova. He belonged to the screaming crowds and the bright lights. He was planting seeds about living in the woods now because he was hurting, because he needed to hide from his past.
But once he was healed? Once he realized that his mother leaving him didn’t mean he was unlovable?
He would realize he could do better than a quiet, boring wrestler from the backwoods of North Carolina who was terrified of the world.
He would find someone who could stand in the light with him, not someone who dragged him into the shadows to hide.
I kissed the top of his head, squeezing my eyes shut against the burn of my own tears.
“I’ll keep you safe,” I whispered into the darkness, making a promise I knew would break my own heart. “For as long as you let me.”