Chapter 21 #2
“Well,” Fray said, “what he thinks is right is being a cowardly piece of shit. If they were in trouble, you’d be the first in line to help.”
Ciaran almost smiled, and Sawyer could feel the warmth of pride he felt, and damn if Sawyer didn’t feel proud of him too. Of course Ciaran would help. And being reminded that Ciaran, his mate, was a good leader, a good man, made Sawyer’s heart swell.
Ciaran shot Sawyer a questioning look, clearly sensing what Sawyer was feeling. They smiled at each other, and the emotions between them intensified.
Until Fray, oblivious to their moment, clapped Ciaran on the shoulder but looked at Sawyer.
“Ah, Sawyer, my one and only favourite brother-in-law,” he said.
“You should know, the police phone has been ringing a lot, and so has your mobile. You didn’t take it with you, which is probably just as well.
Anyway, I turned it off and put it in your desk drawer.
The screen said HO. I dunno who Ho is, but he tried calling a bunch of times. ”
“Aitch Oh is Head Office,” Sawyer explained. “My boss.” Then Sawyer thought about it.... “Did you break into the police station, Fray?”
He grinned and lifted his hand, which shimmered into the form of a blue tentacle. It wiggled and, changing shape, became long and thin. “Built-in antilock device.”
Sawyer couldn’t help it. He laughed. Also, the brother-in-law comment made him ridiculously happy.
Ciaran joined in, too, his smile warm, but it faded slowly. “Your boss....”
Sawyer looked at them both. There was no hiding anything now.
“Yeah. I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I think he knows about you.
About your kind. He fronts the Specialist Unit.
Which is basically like the X-Files. He put me here after I ran into Dylan that day in Hobart.
So yeah, I think he knows, and he sent me to here to spy on you guys or keep tabs at least. I’m supposed to report in, but I keep losing track of days. ”
They both stared at him, and Sawyer could feel the stab of unease that shot through Ciaran.
“I’m not gonna tell him,” Sawyer said. “No fucking way. I’m just gonna string him along for five years, and then I can retire on a full pension.
But not before I tell him Tenebrae doesn’t warrant having a police station.
I’ll make sure no other cop gets posted here.
” Then he looked directly at Ciaran. “I will protect you and your consortium with my life. I promise.”
“I know,” he whispered. “It won’t come to that. I won’t let it.”
Sawyer felt so many things—his own heartfelt honesty and sincerity, mostly—but he could also feel Ciaran’s concern.
It was cloying and rich and aimed directly at Sawyer.
He was about to say something else, but the entire point of them coming back early from the hut was to discuss everything and work out a plan to make sure Ciaran and his consortium were safe, so. ..
He picked up his duffel bag and gave Ciaran a nod. “Let’s get started.”
Sawyer had unread emails and missed phone calls from Inspector Hadeom, but that wasn’t his first priority. He’d have to call him later for sure, but right now, they had more pressing concerns.
As soon as he had tossed his duffel bag near the washing machine and switched on his coffee machine Salem came sauntering in, meowing his ire at being abandoned for two days. “I know Aurin feeds you,” Sawyer said, but he put some food down anyway.
Ciaran was leaning against the doorjamb, smiling at him, looking all kinds of gorgeous and gazing at Sawyer like he wanted to devour him.
Sawyer could feel just how much Ciaran wanted him, and that was a heady thing, knowing—really knowing—that he was so desired.
But they’d come back to the Cove for a reason.
Sawyer needed to be the strong one here because the emotions rolling off Ciaran were starting to take a horny turn.
“Coffee first, then we talk. I want to hear everything. You can do whatever you want to me later, all night long,” Sawyer said.
Then he remembered the whole “leader” thing and how Ciaran needed to divide his time.
“Or did you want to go see your boys first? Check in with them first, then we talk? Because that’s fine—”
Ciaran’s eyebrows almost met. “Oh. I uh... I probably should, but I...”
“You what?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t want to leave you just yet.”
Sawyer laughed because that had to be a joke, right? But Ciaran didn’t even smile, and there was a pang of hurt that hit Sawyer right in the sternum.
He quickly went to Ciaran and pressed his palm to his cheek.
“Hey,” he said gently. “We’re good. We can be apart for a bit.
It’s not like one of us is leaving town.
You’ll just be a few doors up, and I’ll be right here.
I have emails to reply to and phone calls to make, and your consortium needs you.
Go call your octo-meeting, get all the updates, and you can fill me in when you get back. ”
Ciaran smirked and held up two fingers. “Okay, so first thing. We’re not calling it an octo-meeting—that’s not.
... Just no. And second, exactly how would you like me to fill you in later?
” His voice dropped, his eyes sparked with heat, and his smirk was downright filthy.
“Because I can fill you in any way you like.”
They both heard Fray groan outside. “Jesus, again? You freaky freaks can’t stop for twenty minutes?” He came in through the front door to the police station and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, at least you’re still both clothed. Thank the gods for small mercies.”
Sawyer laughed, and with a soft kiss on Ciaran’s lips, he pushed him toward the door. “Go see your boys. I’ll be here, getting my arse reamed by Hadeom.”
Fray grimaced, and Ciaran growled.
“Not in a good way,” Sawyer added, then winked at Ciaran. “Not in the way you’ll be doing later.”
Ciaran made that purry noise, and Fray threw up his hands. “That’s it. I’m out.”
He went for the door, but Sawyer quickly walked Ciaran out with him, all but shoving him out the door. “Take him with you or he won’t leave.”
Ciaran looked about to object or whine, but Fray dragged him out, grumbling as they went. Ciaran smiled at Sawyer over his shoulder before Sawyer closed the door.
He stood there for a moment, grinning like a madman, and even chuckled to himself a little, feeling positively giddy. Then he sat at his desk to do some admin...
And he felt it.
A soft burr under his ribs, like a rock in his shoe or a splinter he could feel but couldn’t see—annoying, but not quite painful, so he could ignore it for now.
It felt like artificial pain, as if it should hurt and would if it could, like it was sending pain messages his brain receptors couldn’t process.
Until he’d checked some emails and filtered out messages, did some log reports, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The annoying burr was getting painful, the splinter now infected, growing warmer and warmer. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his sternum and let out a low breath, trying to compartmentalise the pain.
The pain that was now beginning to feel real.
He knew it wasn’t a heart attack, though it sure felt like one. He knew exactly what it was, and the more he tried to ignore it now, the longer he let it go on, the worse it got.
Ciaran.
He needed Ciaran.
What the fuck?
And so he tried to hold out. There was nothing wrong with him. Ciaran was just a few doors up—and it had been literally ten fucking minutes since he’d seen him.
He could last longer than ten minutes, right?
Because what the fucking fuck?
He was assured he’d have full autonomy, that he’d be his own person, but this was...
This was getting hard to ignore.
Impossible, actually.
Then the pain started to get real. Like, really fucking real.
He tried to breathe through it. He pressed his hand harder against his sternum and stood up.
But he couldn’t make it stop.
Only one person could.
Then his phone started ringing, and god, how he hoped it was Ciaran... but nope. He saw Hadeom’s name on the screen, and he knew he should answer it, but he couldn’t concentrate.
He couldn’t focus.
Fuck, he could barely even breathe.
And he was out the door before he knew it, phone in hand and running. Running to the only person who could make it stop, like he was trying to break the surface and breathe. He was fucking drowning and running...
He didn’t know where to. Just to wherever the fuck Ciaran was, to where this pain would stop. His antiques store was dark, the door locked, so he kept going, and his phone kept ringing, and he kept on drowning, unable to breathe.
Then the door to Fray’s shop swung open, and Ciaran appeared, breathing hard, his hand pressed to his chest, his face twisted...
Then Sawyer was running even faster, running to him, to the surface, for air, the only air he could breathe, and they collided, holding on so damn tight, both of them panting, gasping.
“Holy fuck,” Sawyer whispered.
“You felt that?” Ciaran asked, voice tight.
He nodded, pulling back so he could see Ciaran’s face, and touch him, his neck, his chest. Fuck, he could feel the thrumming of his hearts. “What the fuck was that?”
Ciaran was fisting Sawyer’s sweater, but he turned when someone spoke, and Sawyer only realised then that Kellan and Fray had followed Ciaran out, and he could see two more faces in the doorway. He didn’t know who spoke or what they said, but at least he could breathe now.
“What the fuck was that?” Sawyer asked again, the question probably mostly aimed at Kellan but also at anyone who might know. Then he looked directly at Kellan. “I thought you said we’d still be us, still able to function, but now we can’t be apart for ten fucking minutes?”
Kellan’s eyes tightened, and Sawyer tried to feel bad, but fuck!
“Most newly mated pairs have more time alone together in the beginning,” Kellan said. “Months, not days. And I don’t need to remind you that the human aspect is unknown.”