Chapter 11
THE SIGHT of Bazel getting ready to leave had been almost enough to stop Atlas’s heart, and his first reaction had been hurt and anger.
He had done so much for him… and Bazel was ready to just run away.
Truthfully, it had made him angry, and as he stood quietly with Bazel and thought about it, his reaction felt stupid.
Of course he would be scared; anyone would be.
Wendell had been trying to find him, and god knows what he would have done if he had gotten his hands on Bazel. The thought sent a shiver through him.
“Are you cold?” Bazel asked. “It hot out here. You getting sick?”
“No. I was scared for a moment. I’m fine now.”
Bazel turned around, those huge brown eyes looking up at him. “You get scared too? But you big and strong and no one can hurt you.”
“Of course I get scared. We all do.”
“Were you scared of that man?” Bazel asked.
“Not really.” He didn’t want to talk about it.
Bazel didn’t need him putting his crap at his feet.
His issues were his own, and they were small in the grand scheme of things.
He might have overreacted, but the thought of Bazel leaving left him cold.
“I know how to deal with bad guys. It’s what I’m trained to do.
” What he wasn’t prepared for was to have his heart broken.
Maybe he was being completely stupid, letting his heart get involved in a situation like this.
Bazel had just come to this country, and he had whole worlds to explore and a ton of decisions to make.
What in the hell was he doing, expecting Bazel to stay here?
There were so many options. He had his entire life ahead of him. What the hell was Atlas thinking?
“Then why do you have fear?” Bazel asked.
He wasn’t prepared to explain the whole situation right now. “Everyone does.” He shrugged, hoping Bazel would buy his bullshit answer and they could move off this topic. “I think there are some damaged plants.”
“Yes.” Bazel hurried away and returned with a set of clippers.
He cut away the parts that had broken off.
“They will grow back,” he declared like they didn’t dare not obey.
Evie bounded over from where she had been chewing on one of her toys.
Bazel picked up a ball and tossed it for her.
She raced back, and Bazel threw it again.
Neither man spoke for a long time as Bazel threw the ball and Atlas watched the two of them play.
Somehow he had to get rid of this feeling of dread.
Regardless of what he had told Bazel, something was going to happen.
He could feel it. The bad thing was that he had no idea from which direction it was going to come.
ATLAS GOT ready for bed, listening as the water ran in the other bathroom and then as Bazel brushed his teeth.
Finally that door opened and he got into bed, leaving the small reading light on before turning off the overhead light.
He had no idea if Bazel was going to come in tonight or not.
He hadn’t wanted to pressure him, so he had said nothing about it through dinner and as they watched The Traitors on television.
Atlas knew he probably should have brought it up, but then he kept wondering if Bazel would think he had to join him.
What Atlas wanted was for Bazel to want to join him.
God, sometimes he was such an idiot. Talking about things was always better, but then he wondered if Bazel would understand.
Sometimes going in circles just gave him a headache.
The light in the hallway flipped off, but he didn’t hear any footsteps. Evie lay in her bed, head down, eyes already closed. They had a big day tomorrow, and he wanted her to be well rested. Combat-type training was rigorous, and this session promised to be more so than usual.
“Atlas,” Bazel said, but he couldn’t see him in the doorway. He must have been just around the corner.
“What is it?” he whispered, and Bazel stepped forward.
“I don’t know what to do.” He stood in the doorway in shorts and a T-shirt that they had found at a second-hand store the other day.
“What do you want to do?” he asked. “This is up to you, not me.”
“But what if you not want me?” Bazel said.
Atlas groaned. “You need to be the one to decide what you want. This isn’t about me, it’s about you.
What is it that you want?” Bazel lowered his gaze.
“It’s okay to say it. You don’t need to be afraid or ashamed.
Being able to tell someone what you want is the first step to getting it. And you have to own it.”
“Which means?” Bazel asked.
“You can be confident in your decision. That you aren’t afraid of it.”
Bazel nodded and stook a step into the room. Then he came around to Atlas’s side of the bed, leaned over, and kissed him. “That what I want.”
Atlas wound his arms around Bazel’s waist. “Then you can have it.” He kissed him again, and Bazel climbed into the bed, settling right into Atlas’s arms as though he belonged there.
God help him if this turned out to be wrong, because Atlas was quickly becoming addicted to the feel of Bazel next to him and the taste of his sweet lips.
He stopped and pulled back, much to Atlas’s surprise. “What does this ‘babe’ mean?”
Atlas smiled. “It’s a term of endearment. Like calling someone sweetheart, and a special nickname.”
“Do you have one of those?” Bazel asked. Atlas could tell that his mind was whirring, and he wondered what was going to come from him next.
“No. You don’t give yourself a nickname. Though some people like to think they do. And if you don’t like being called babe, then you need to say so. They’re meant to show affection and not be mean.”
“So you would not like the nickname Noodle Butt?” Bazel asked.
Atlas chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t. No one wants to be called Noodle Butt.” Not that it made any sense.
“Then how about….” He seemed to pause to think, and Atlas tugged Bazel down onto the bed to a slight squeal and then laughter.
“Why don’t you give it some thought. But no Noodle Butt.” He couldn’t help laughing. There were times when he had no idea what Bazel was going to say, and Noodle Butt was definitely from left field. “Babe,” he added as Bazel settled into the bed.
“Okay, Noodle Butt,” he teased and slipped under the covers, chuckling to himself as though he were the funniest person on earth. Bazel could call him whatever he wanted to as long as he wasn’t being mean.
Bazel rolled onto his side as Atlas turned out the lights. He wound an arm around Bazel, holding him as they settled together. It was strange sleeping with someone, and yet it felt right.
“You work tomorrow?”
“Yes. Evie and I have a training session. So it’s going to be a hard day.
” He had no reason to believe that they wouldn’t be successful.
Evie was already well trained and behaved the way she should.
But he never knew what sort of situation would be set up, and they had to be ready for anything, which meant he needed to sleep rather than take Bazel into his arms, lick him all over, and spend the next two hours making him scream with passion. “Good night.”
Bazel lay still next to him. “I thought we… do what we did before?”
“I know.” He tugged him closer. “I wish we could, but I have to get enough sleep, and so does Evie.” He closed his eyes.
“Then should I leave?” Bazel asked.
“You didn’t the other nights you slept with me. Why should this be any different? But you should do what you want, not what you think I want.” God, this was getting harder and harder. He felt like he was navigating a minefield… of a sort.
“Then I stay,” Bazel whispered, and Atlas sighed. This was perfect, and with those few words the minefield ahead of him vanished as if it were an illusion in the fog.
“I’m happy,” Atlas told him quietly, and Bazel shifted closer, sliding a hand across Atlas’s chest. It was so nice to be held and cared for.
To have someone be gentle with him. His life tended to be filled with roughness and demands for performance.
So to have Bazel just accept him for who he was and to show him simple kindness sent Atlas’s heart soaring with a single simple touch.
“I KNOW YOU’RE ready, Evie,” Atlas said in his freshly pressed uniform as he got Evie out of the car on her leash. There were other dogs in cages at the training center, some barking, but Evie watched him and didn’t react to them.
A large fenced area had been set up for the training, which was normal for this kind of exercise.
They were dealing with aggression here, and sometimes even the most well-trained dog could be unpredictable, so it was best to keep this type of action confined to a specific area.
A lot of people liked to think that these dogs were so conditioned that they were perfect and always did what they were told.
But no animal was that well trained. They were dogs, after all, not robots, with their own personalities and their own faults, just like everyone else.
Another officer was running through training, and Atlas watched as a man in a padded suit stood at one end of the area while the dog raced across the open space, jumping and taking down the man in a few seconds.
The German Shepherd continued attacking, and Atlas knew the instant things went wrong.
The handler called the dog back, but he didn’t stop.
It wasn’t until he was pulled away that he settled down once more and the man in the suit got himself up off the ground.
Only when the dog was secured did he finally remove his head protection.
“Over-aggression isn’t going to help anyone,” a woman snapped from the sidelines. Atlas hadn’t seen her before but knew her reputation from one of his colleagues. What shocked him was how she kept talking to a man next to her, like she was carrying on two conversations at the same time.