Chapter 21 #2
“I spent another five years with Titan and the Atlanta PD. I vowed to do things differently for his safety. I was smarter. I didn’t go into buildings alone.
I didn't get us cornered again. I checked perimeters, I made sure we had backup, and I was more diligent than required. I played it by the book, and then some. People called me a hard-ass for it because it meant they had to rise to my standards, but it made the unit better. None of that matters when you’re chasing a suspect through the dark streets of downtown Atlanta, and they get desperate enough to fire on you.
The suspect shot me in the abdomen, and I went down.
The desperate man would have killed me with his next shot if Titan hadn’t tackled him and taken the bullet meant to end my life. ”
Tears track steadily down Tucker’s face as his words grow thick with sorrow.
He’s lost to the memories, stuck in a dark place and time that robbed him of joy and something he loved with the very marrow of his bones.
My heart aches for him. I wish I could take this pain away, but it’s rooted so deeply that only he knows where to dig.
I drag him into my arms and push my leg between his, wanting to cover him from the assault of memories while he’s dredging them up and reliving each horrific moment.
The only thing I can do is be present with him as he experiences them again, and I hate it so much. I feel inept.
“I wish I’d lost consciousness, but instead I had to watch the life bleed out of my second partner as the suspect managed to get up and flee the scene.” His voice breaks along with my heart, as he turns his face into my chest, clinging to me for whatever good I’m doing.
“What the fuck, he got away?” I feel so useless, my words flat and unable to take away the pain that is so clearly etched into every line of his body as he curls into me.
Anger laces my tone as I war with the sorrow of his story.
He rubs his face against my chest and sighs, resting his head on my shoulder, eyes closed, and I wonder if he’s too exhausted from his emotional night to finish his story.
I hold him, smoothing my hand over his broad back.
When he speaks, his voice is so broken, I don't know if I can even stand it.
“He was caught three blocks later and is rotting in a prison cell now, but that doesn't make it any better.” Tucker’s lip trembles as he barely keeps it together enough to answer.
His bloodshot blue eyes open and rise to meet mine, full of the self-loathing he’s experiencing.
“I failed two partners who gave everything for me.
I couldn't keep them safe when it mattered the most.”
“That’s not true,” I reason gently. “You were doing your job, which was inherently dangerous. You didn’t fail your partners.”
He shakes his head, ignoring my attempt to rationalize with him.
“I lost all faith in myself. I knew I couldn't have anyone’s lives or safety in my hands, so when I could physically go back to work, I wasn’t able to pass the mental health clearances needed, and I left.
Atlanta PD asked me to train officers and dogs for them, but I couldn't bring myself to send another animal into danger and risk having what happened to my partners happen again and fuck up someone else’s life.
” He covers his eyes with his hand, blocking out the low light of the room, or maybe blocking my gaze.
“But it got me thinking about training as a career, and I remembered how training Titan had helped me after losing Echo. So here I am, not trustworthy for anyone’s safety, still fucked up to all hell, but trying to work through it, one dog at a time. ”
“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect,” I insist, kissing his head and holding him tighter as he burrows into my arms, seeking whatever comfort I can manage in this moment, wracked with guilt and misery.
“I don't know how you can say that,” he mumbles against my chest.
It’s not some empty platitude. He is perfect for me.
“Baby, when I was falling apart on the dock out at your pond, you caught me in your big, strong arms and made me feel seen and safe. You somehow understood my pain, knew what I’d lost, and exactly what I needed to make it through that rough moment of sadness and feeling like I wasn't enough.”
“You are enough,” he insists, looking up, determination clearing his eyes.
“And you’ve been there for me every time I’ve broken down because you get it.
No one else could have done that because they haven’t experienced what you have, as fucked up as that is.
Our losses bond us in a way nothing else can, making us stronger together because of what we’ve been through separately. ”
He pushes up abruptly and looks at me, his face twisted with warring emotions. “You really think that? You think we’re stronger together because we’ve been through some awful shit, and lost so much?”
I sit up and take his hands, lacing our fingers together.
“Yeah, I do. I think we could be really good together, holding each other up when we’re feeling low.
I’ll remind you that you’re not fucked up, you’re perfect right now, just as you are, if you remind me that I’m enough for everyone who’s counting on me for something.
Think you can handle that and don't mind being mine?”
“You want to be with me, like for real, in a relationship?” he asks slowly. His face is the cutest shade of red, wearing a look that can only be called bewildered as fuck.
I put my hands on his cheeks and press my forehead to his.
“Yeah, like a relationship, baby. I was already claiming you to my team earlier without even asking if you were okay with that, but that’s what I want to do—claim you, make you mine.
Can I be yours?” My voice is vulnerable as I ask for the thing I want the most and hope he doesn't feel like crushing me.
“I’ve never—” He pauses and swallows hard, shaking his head in between my hands as his eyes rake down my chest to the bed.
“No one has ever wanted to claim me publicly before. I’ve always been some backseat secret, a hookup they didn’t care to name, or worse, the experiment gone wrong that they wanted to forget even happened. ”
“I could never forget you. I want you in the quiet moments out in the woods, where we can just be ourselves, and I want you loudly, publicly, where everyone can see how I feel about you. I just want you, Tucker. Let me have all of you.”
“I’ve already hit my quota for crying today, you don't have to work so hard to get more of the waterworks going, damn,” he says, rubbing at his eyes as they gloss over again. At least I know they’re happy tears this time.
“Is that a yes, you want to be together?” I ask, holding him close.
“Yeah, you insistent control freak, I want to be with you,” he grumbles, but I hear the smile in his tone.
“Good, because now I want to fuck my boyfriend. Or partner? What do you want to be called?” I ask, kneeling on the bed and moving between his legs as he bursts into watery laughter.
“Are you seriously worried about what to call me, and you're ready to fuck after the story I just told you?”
“Yes, and yes.” I pull on his boxers, and he lifts his ass so I can slide them down his legs.
He’s already hardening for me, his beautiful cock lying heavy against his thigh.
“Tucker, when we’re in public and I have to.
Country Boy, when I’m in a teasing mood.
Flannel Daddy, in my head, when you’re looking edible.
Baby, for the bedroom. But what do I use to introduce you? ”
His laugh is low and sultry. “I’ll be your boyfriend, and you can call me anything you want in the bedroom.”
I lean forward and grip his cock as it rises even more, begging for attention.
Yes, sir, I hear you. I’ve never sucked a cock before, but damn, I know I’m about to enjoy this one.
I start with a tentative taste of his shaft, finding it musky and a little salty.
It’s not unpleasant in the least, so I move up, licking and enjoying the feel of him on my tongue.
I can't help sucking on his head like a lollipop once I get to the crown, which makes his back bow, and he groans my name as his taste explodes across my taste buds. Just watching his reaction to what I’m doing is worth it, but I like how he tastes and feels in my mouth.
I don’t know if I can get him off like this, but he seems to be enjoying himself as I suck and lick him.
When I think I’ve sufficiently altered his headspace, I pop off his dick to find him panting.
“I really want to fuck you if you feel up to it. Otherwise, I’ll keep going like this and get myself off against the mattress because you’re hot as fuck making those noises.”
“You’re going to have to prep me if you want to fuck my ass. You ready for that?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows and smiling mischievously.
I scoff. He thinks he’s going to make me uncomfortable talking openly about this, but I’ve been doing my research since the first body wash incident.
I’m pretty sure I know the way things work now.
I’m not intimidated by anal sex, and my theory is, if you’re not ready to put in the work, you shouldn’t reap the benefits.
I’m more than ready and willing to do all the work for him.
“If prep is code for eating your ass and sticking my fingers in to stretch you out, then hell yes I am,” I say, sliding my hands up his thighs.
He groans and falls back on the pillow as his cock jumps. “God, yes, please.”