Sheltered

Chapter 19

Luca

I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. The mix of fear and panic that simmered under my skin when Jasper’s hands closed around my throat is long gone, but something still feels off. In hindsight, I should have known it was coming. Should have prepared myself. Should have seen it. But I didn’t.

It doesn’t even matter. I know Jasper wouldn’t choke me.

I asked him to show me, for fuck’s sake.

The move looked straightforward, and he was barely even touching me.

But when his hands closed around my throat and his blue eyes locked onto mine, everything else disappeared.

I didn’t see his white-gray hair; I didn’t see his slightly crooked nose or the stubble on his cheek.

I saw a clean-shaven, strong jaw, black hair with salt weaving through, and blue eyes filled, not with the expectation that I was about to knock his arms away, but with hatred and anger.

Jasper was gone, and Damien had taken his place.

I panicked. Clearly. I shut down. I couldn’t get him off, and I couldn’t breathe.

And then there was Austin. Holding me. Picking me up.

Carrying me outside. Wrapped around me in the back seat of his truck, his fingers stroking my hair and his soft and steady voice rumbling in my ear about fair parades and being lost without me.

I don’t remember much of yesterday, but I remember being cocooned in safety, supported in strong arms, undressed with sure fingers, and sleeping in peace.

I remember Austin pulling me back from the edge of the abyss and wrapping me up, protecting me, and bringing me back to myself.

And now? Now I feel weak and shaky. I don’t want him out of my sight. I don’t want him out of my reach. I want to live in his lap today. I want those arms of his around me at all times. I don’t want him to let me go.

Now, I’m lying in bed, snuggled against his broad, warm chest, breathing in the scent of his skin and listening to the steady beating of his heart. His breath is fanning across the top of my head, ruffling my hair with each exhalation.

I think he held me all night.

I’m not ready for it to end. He has dinner at his parents’ today, just like every Sunday, and until then, I’m gonna take all I can get of… this.

He grumbles a bit under his breath, his arm tightening around my back before he loosens his grip. Panic chokes me, my heart thumping hard. “Don’t let go,” I rasp out, throat nearly closing up.

“I won’t.” His voice is as sure and solid as I’ve ever heard it, settling under my skin and into my bones, soothing me from the inside out.

He rolls to his side, pulling me in tighter until I’m so close to him I can barely breathe—his grip so strong my lungs can barely inflate.

I don’t give a shit. It’s worth it. Especially because my lack of air isn’t from pain or heartache or someone trying to take my life from me, but from someone—Austin—holding me together, gathering all my pieces, and keeping them safe in his arms.

Tears burn my eyes, so I squeeze them closed, fighting them hard.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Luc,” he murmurs, then his face is tipping down, pressing into my hair, nose rubbing against me.

“What?”

“You did so well yesterday. You were so brave.”

His hand slides up my back, warm and calloused, before slipping into my hair. I shiver. I can’t fucking help it. “I wasn’t.”

“You were,” he whispers. “You wanted to learn something new, and you did so well.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “No, I didn’t. I panicked. I shut down.”

Austin’s answer is a low grumble in his throat. “And you’re gonna try again, right? Only this time, Jasper won’t touch you. Only me.”

He’s making my head spin, my thoughts spiraling out of control, flashes of me bare in front of him and his hands exploring and relearning my skin crossing my mind.

What does he mean by that? I have the distinct feeling that his hands on me could chase away all the fear, but surely that’s not what he means.

He sits up abruptly, untangling me from his arms faster than I thought possible. His warm brown eyes settle on mine. “We’ll do more training. You were having a lot of fun before. Do you think it would scare you if I touched you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

His palm settles on my chest, his eyes searching mine as he brings it up to rest against my throat. Like yesterday, my breath gets caught, my vision dimming. “Hey, breathe. There’s no pressure. You can breathe. It’s just me.”

His thumb brushes my pulse point. “Breathe.”

I focus on his eyes, then breathe in deeply. He’s right. There’s no pressure on my throat. In fact, he’s barely touching me at all.

He moves his hand quickly. “I think you can do it, Luca, but I think you need to do it with me. I’m sorry I let Jasper trigger you.”

I gape at him because that’s not even close to his fault, and I don’t understand why he would think it is. “That’s not your fault. I didn’t know it would trigger me either.”

“I should have been keeping a closer eye on things. I should have known you’d feel safer with me.” Austin’s eyes dart across my face, settling on my lips before flying up to my eyes. “What do you want to do today?”

Touch you all day. Lay in your lap on the couch. Build a fire and stay cooped up the entire day. Feel your hands on me again.

“Whatever you want.”

Austin cocks his head. “What do you want? Today is Give Luca Pierce Anything His Heart Desires Day.”

The heart in question lurches. “I want to cuddle with you.”

That seems to surprise him. His eyebrows shoot up, his head tilting to the other side like a confused puppy. “Really?”

“You said anything,” I point out. God, if I ask for what I want and get shot down, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

“I did.” He moves toward the edge of the bed. “Come on then. Let’s do the morning bathroom stuff and then grab something for breakfast and come back to bed.”

My heart soars. “Toast and syrup?”

Austin’s warm laughter makes me smile. “I did say anything.”

By the time we’ve eaten breakfast, my eyes are getting heavy again. I don’t know why, given how much I slept last night, but I can’t deny it—I’m exhausted. “I’m tired,” I murmur into Austin’s chest.

We’ve been lying this way for at least twenty minutes, my head on his chest, his fingers dancing absently up and down my back. “Then sleep.”

I don’t even try to fight it. My eyes fall closed, and I drift off to Austin’s touch and his warm presence surrounding me.

“Do you want to watch MasterChef?” Austin asks, coming back from the kitchen with two cups of coffee.

After I woke up from my nap, we decided on caffeine and couch cuddles. “That’s fine.”

I really don’t care what we watch either way.

Austin hands me my mug, then sits down next to me, turning on the show. I drink the coffee slowly, savoring the warmth. It’s been a cold morning. I thought about building a fire earlier, but now that we’re here, I’d rather have Austin’s body heat as warmth.

It’s been so freaking long since I’ve had that. Since I’ve been able to just… cuddle with someone and feel safe doing it.

Damien was never a tactile person, not even in the beginning. And then after a while, even the small touches he did afford me were no good. He either wanted to fuck me or he wanted to hurt me. And sometimes… sometimes he wanted to hurt me while he was fucking me.

I got used to harsh touches and nothing else. I haven’t been touched by a well-meaning, gentle hand in a long time.

Not since my parents’ funeral.

Not since Austin.

Not since he let me collapse in his arms and sob like a child over losing my family.

Not since he held my hand under the table while Damien—younger then, with kind eyes—went over the details of my parents’ estate.

Not since his shoulder collected all the tears I shed at the gravesite as I watched them both be lowered into the ground.

If only I knew then what I know now, I would have come home with Austin when he asked me to. I wouldn’t have stayed in Ohio. If I had left with Austin back then, I don’t know what would have happened to me. I don’t know what would have become of my life.

But I can say with almost certainty that I wouldn’t have skin tainted with hatred and a heart bruised and battered with broken trust. I wouldn’t flinch at raised voices, broken plates, or even the most careful hands.

I wouldn’t have the memory of dried cum clinging to my body from sex I still can’t remember, forced on me by a man I thought loved me.

I wouldn’t be so afraid. Of shadows and the dark and the wind in the trees.

I wouldn’t be broken.

“Are you okay?” Austin asks softly, his hand settling on my thigh.

I blink back to reality, my mug cooling in my hands, still mostly full. “I think so.”

Austin carefully works the mug out of my hands, setting it down on the table. “Come here.”

I look up at him in confusion, shifting closer when he pats his thighs. Taking the offer for what it is, I swing my leg over his lap, straddling him, and let myself melt into him.

His hands grip my hips, holding me in place before he wraps his arms around me and tugs me in closer. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I should have come home with you.”

He’s quiet for a beat. “You are home with me.”

Tears well up in my eyes. “No. I mean, back then.” I swallow hard, nearly choking on grief. “When my parents died.”

“There’s nothing we can do to change the past, Luc.”

I know that. Of course I do. “I went through so much. For what? He broke me, Austin, and what’s worse—I let him. He fucking broke me, and I let him.”

I try to fight back a sob, burying my face deeper in Austin’s neck.

“He didn’t break you. You’re not broken.”

He did, though. “He destroyed all the good things about me, Austin.” I sit back so I can look him in the eyes. “All the things about me that are good and worthy are gone. Because of him.”

Austin opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “He did, Austin. He took my happiness. He took my creativity. He took my soul and crushed it. He ruined me. For other people, but also for myself. He fucking… He ruined me.”

I nearly jerk away when warm hands settle on my face. Austin’s grip is firm, his fingers holding me like I’m precious, but I’m not. I’m damaged and tainted and worthless.

“You are not ruined.” I open my mouth to disagree, but Austin shuts me down with a stern look. “You’re not. You’re fierce and strong and capable, and yeah, maybe a little hurt and bruised. But you are far from ruined. Far from broken.”

“I don’t believe you,” I whisper.

Austin pulls me forward, then presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to believe me for it to be true. The truth isn’t dependent on your belief, Luca.”

I suck in a shuddering breath at his words. It shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks about me, but it does. It matters what Austin thinks. It always has.

All I know is that Austin is warmth and safety and kindness and joy, and he always has been.

And right now, he’s the only thing keeping me afloat.

The only thing keeping me from drowning.

From sinking down, down, down, into the cold abyss, so I don’t even think.

Don’t even consider the ramifications of what I’m about to do.

I lean forward and press my lips to his.

For a second, Austin is still, but then his hands tighten on my face, and his lips part under mine. It’s slow and sweet and perfect, and my heart is fluttering in my throat, and my hands are shaking.

I move closer, needing more. More contact. More touch. More. Just more. Austin lets out a breath, his grip turning almost possessive as he tilts my head and deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing my bottom lip and making me whimper against his mouth.

Heat blooms in my heart as Austin slides his tongue past my lips, tangling it with my own. I’m lost. Lost in a world where nothing matters but the feel of him, the taste of his lips, and the safety of his arms.

But then he stills, dragging in a slow, deep breath through his nose before pulling away. I already know what’s coming. Sure, Austin knows me, but I also know him, and I know that look on his face.

“We can’t, Luca.” His voice is shaking, but from what, I don’t know.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, cold shame rushing in to douse the warmth that bloomed from his kiss. “I—I just… I shouldn’t have—”

“God,” he murmurs, cutting me off. His thumbs brush my cheeks, then he’s toying with my hair, moving it off my face, tracing my eyebrow, my ear, and my bottom lip.

His eyes are all over, taking me at rapid speed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted that so much.

God, I wanted that so much. But we can’t. Not like this.”

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, embarrassed and confused.

He runs his thumb along my jaw softly. “I don’t want you to have any regrets, Luc. Never. Fuck, my heart wouldn’t survive you regretting this.”

“I could never regret you,” I choke out, tears welling up and spilling over before I can force them back.

Sadness flashes in Austin’s eyes. “And I could never regret you. But not right now, okay? Not like this. Not when you need comfort and not when you’re in so much pain.”

“But…” I trail off, trying to come up with a way to counteract that, to fight against it. “I just wanted—”

“I know,” Austin says softly. “But right now, I just want to comfort you. That’s what you need. That’s what I need. I’m not rejecting you. This is not no. This is not right now.”

I nod slowly. “Okay.”

Austin sags in relief, his eyes going soft. “Come here, baby.”

He’s right. This is what I need. To feel safe and protected with no conditions and no expectations. My heart nearly pounds its way out of my chest as I lean into him and collapse against his chest. His arms surround me, holding me tightly, and he strokes my hair.