Chapter Six #3
So, with all of his might, he slammed into the man, toppling him backward in the water. Getting lucky, the force holding him relented, releasing him from whatever had him there.
The man wasn’t moving, and it was clear that he was not breathing.
Taking what air he had left, he put his mouth over D’Artangnan’s, and forced that air into his lungs as he began swimming them up.
The bigger man was heavy, and likely because he’d breathed in water and filled his lungs.
It was only fifteen feet, but it felt like forever to get him to the top.
With all his power, and every ounce of strength he had, Graham got the man to the surface.
And that’s when it happened.
Something was pulling on him.
It was a tug-o-war to get him free from the haunted water and to the land.
Graham knew he only had a minute to get air into D’Artangnan, or he’d die.
So, he fought.
“NO!” Graham yelled, refusing to let go of him. “You can’t have him! He’s mine!” he hissed, seeing something step out of the mist on the shore.
It was the original Lord of this castle.
Graham pleaded with him.
“Duncan! Help me save him! Help me save the man I love!” he called, and that’s when the grip on D’Artangnan was broken.
Whether it was the haunted water setting him free, or assistance from Duncan, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t important.
Saving D’Artangnan was.
Gone was his heartache, and gone was the hangover. There was a new mission that had to be completed.
Graham wasted no time.
Getting D’Artangnan onto his back, he checked, and he most definitely wasn’t breathing.
If he didn’t get him air, and soon, he would die, and that would be one more nail in Graham’s coffin. He’d carry this on his shoulders forever too.
Pulling open the man’s wetsuit, he touched his neck. There was a pulse, but it was so faint.
“Don’t,” he whispered, tipping his head, and breathing into D’Artangnan’s mouth.
His lips sealed to his, and he fought for him like he’d never fought before.
If this man was married and had a family, he had to save him for them.
He owed him that much. After breaking him and sending him away, he had to make sure he could go home to the people he now loved.
As he kept breathing for him, Graham could hear that static-y sound of the dead talking near him.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please let him live.”
As if his prayer was answered, the man began coughing. Then, when D’Artangnan started tossing up water, Graham rolled him to his side, and held him there.
“Please breathe for me,” he said, as the coughing continued, and life was coming back.
That’s when he saw how blue the man’s hands and lips were. His skin was cold to the touch.
He had to get him warm or he was going to succumb to hypothermia.
The first place he thought of was the room he’d woken in, since there was a fire already going in there. That would be a good place to get D’Artangnan warm.
Picking him up, and that was no easy task, he tossed him over his shoulder. Thank God he did manual labor around the estate, or he wouldn’t be able to move the mountain of a man.
He was still coughing and trying to get his lungs clear as he hung over his shoulder.
Somehow, he had to get the much bigger man up the hill and to a fireplace.
“I’ve got you, D’Artangnan,” he reassured, holding him in place as he hustled it up the hill and to the kitchen. Kicking the door open, he used his bare foot to shove it closed.
They were almost there.
As he carried him up to the Master’s Suite, he laid him on the floor in front of the fire, and began pulling off his wet things.
The wetsuit was first to go, and all that was left was his sopping wet underwear. That’s when Graham saw it.
The tattoo was on his leg—exactly where it had been placed almost ten years ago.
In that moment, their youth came back, and he missed every single second of it.
How desperately he would have traded places with D’Artangnan to be the one who had been at the bottom of the lake.
Whatever was down there was vengeful and incredibly angry. He was willing to bet, it hadn’t died accidentally down there either.
That was one hell of a rage in it.
Pulling off his own clothes, he grabbed the feather blanket, and wrapped it around them as he put D’Artangnan between his legs to share his body warmth.
The fire was going, and his skin was not nearly as blue as it had been. He took his hands, one-by-one, and blew warm breath onto his fingers.
What he did know was that it had been a close call on this one, and that the lake was a nightmare.
First it tried to take Gabby, and now, it had nearly taken D’Artangnan.
“C-c-cold,” Michael whispered.
Graham held him tighter.
“It’s okay. I have you. We’ll warm you up, Lad. You’ll be fine. Just give it a few minutes, and you’ll feel better.”
Would he?
He wasn’t sure.
Michael was shaking like a leaf, and all he remembered was fighting for his life, but the skeleton hands around his ankles…
Had he really seen that?
Had he been hallucinating?
Did something really hold him to the bottom of the lake?
Yeah, it was all coming back to him now.
There had been panic, and then, the air had begun running out. That’s when he’d begun fighting to break free, but couldn’t fight against what he couldn’t see.
The laughter and sick words…
At that moment, he knew that he was dead.
Until he woke up, coughing up water.
Graham had saved him.
“Tha-thank y-y-you,” he said, his teeth chattering out of control as he was between his legs, and the man’s hands were moving up and down his arms to share warmth like they’d once done during battle in the cold desert.
Honestly, Graham was just grateful that he had woken up and gotten to him in time.
Oh, call it what it was, but he was rattled. He’d almost died in that lake, and that freaked him out to no end.
Why?
Because it was okay for him to die, but he couldn’t let D’Artangnan die.
He was the good guy in their story.
Graham was not.
“Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do for you. In fact, I can say the same to you for last night.”
That hung there.
Finally, Graham spoke.
“I don’t know what to call you,” he admitted. “You signed the note with Michael. I don’t know him,” he admitted. “I only know D’Artangnan. I guess a lot has happened in the seven and a half years.”
Yes, yes, a lot had.
But then again, it still felt the same.
That confused the hell out of Michael.
It really did.
He was perched between Graham’s legs, and his back was against the man’s chest. It was so goddamn familiar, and he wanted to weep.
Once, he’d had a nightmare, and woke up to thrashing around. Graham had put him in this position, with his legs over his hips and around his waist to keep him safe and hold him locked to his body.
Restrictive, but protective.
In that moment, he felt…safe.
Again.
The man had saved him, and now, so many feelings and emotions were stirred up—much like in that hideous lake water.
He was grateful that Graham had been there, and was now keeping him warm.
He could feel his nakedness against him, and it was like the seven and a half years apart never happened. Michael was back in that small apartment with the person he’d given his heart to out of love and trust.
“Yo-u-u sav-v-ved me.”
Yes, yes, he did.
And he would have died in his place. Only, after last night, he didn’t go there. Instead, he fought to stay in the here and now.
You couldn’t change the past.
No matter how much you wanted to.
For now, this was about that moment, and Graham had to play the cards that the universe had dealt him.
“You were always worth saving,” he said, softly, and then regretted even saying it out loud.
Why?
Well, maybe because this man had moved on, and there was no point in getting attached to him again.
That ship had sailed.
The silence from D’Artangnan was poignant and it left little to the imagination.
Well, he might as well make a total arse of himself while he had the chance.
Why not?
His ego liked a proper thrashing on a daily basis.
“Despite my mistakes, I will always protect you when you need me,” he admitted. “I did a shit job of it years ago, but I’ll do what needs to be done to keep you safe, D’Artangnan. You’re worth protecting, and I hope and pray someone back home for you does that daily. You deserve that and more.”
That hurt Michael so much.
Because there was no one back home to protect him like Graham had. Oh, he had family, but he’d never had his heart after he’d left him.
It stayed with Graham, and now, he saw that. Riley…he had been nothing compared to this man.
As they sat there, Michael wanted to weep.
This proved one thing to him.
The universe was in charge. He’d just said last night he wanted someone to protect him for a change, and here, he had just that. Graham had dove into the water not knowing what the odds were, and he’d somehow broken him free.
He’d saved him.
How did he make that make sense?
Up to that moment, this was the man who had broken him into pieces all of those years ago, and in one courageous act, he managed to start putting the pieces back together again.
He was confused.
He was scared.
He was…aroused.
All of those feelings came back in a wave, and they overwhelmed him like nothing else ever had. Seven and a half years had passed, and it felt like seconds.
The pull back to this man was there, and Michael couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.
The heart loved who it loved, and sometimes, that never went away.
He considered his last year with Riley, and all of the moments that they shared together. Each and every one paled in comparison to those moments with Graham.
In their shit apartment.
Fighting a rich man’s war.
Sacrificing blood, body, and soul to do battle against an enemy of right from wrong.
As his arms moved around him tighter, Michael let him hold him.
Because he needed this.
Along with the notes he’d left, and the truth he’d told in them, Michael knew one thing.
He.
Wasn’t.
Angry.
Anymore.