Louis was propped up on his pillows, reading a thick book Craig could guarantee was either a biography of an obscure actor or a fantasy novel. He loved both. He wore reading glasses too.
“The glasses are new,” Craig commented.
Louis blushed, obviously self-conscious. “My optometrist says I read too much.”
“You look good in them.”
“Even with the bruises.”
“Even then. You’re one of the most handsome men I know.”
“Thanks.” Louis blushed even harder at the praise. “You’ve got new ink.”
Craig looked down at his arms. “Yeah. It’s spread a bit since we were together.” He’d been trying to express some of his pain through the ink. He wouldn’t tell Louis that yet.
“Let me help you undress.” Craig suggested.
Louis took off his glasses and put his book down. Each movement was slow and deliberate.
“Have you taken your pain meds?” Craig asked.
“Not yet. They knock me out.”
By the time Louis was dressed in a T-shirt and sleep shorts, he was sweating and pale. Craig stood over him while he took the pain meds and then settled him under the covers.
“I feel like a child,” Louis murmured.
“I’ll check this window.” Craig strode over to the window, not wanting to stray into that territory.
“It’s locked,” Louis said.
“But I’ll check it anyway.”
He did. It was locked. He checked the closet. Then he turned back to Louis.
“If you need me, just call.”
Louis looked resigned. “You’re going to sleep outside my door, aren’t you?”
“Night, Lou.” Craig walked to the door, hiding the smile curving his mouth. Louis knew him far too well.
There was a long sigh behind him, a yawn, and a soft, “Night.”
Craig shut the door with a click and headed toward the guest bedroom. He changed into sweatpants and T-shirt from the pile he’d found in Louis’s closet. The smell of the laundry detergent was a familiar aroma. He sniffed again. The clothes smelled very fresh considering they’d been sitting on a shelf for three years. Craig pulled the T-shirt over his head and went to clean his teeth.
Grabbing the pillow and comforter, Craig left his bedroom. He flicked the light switch and settled down outside Louis’s door. It didn’t bother him to be roughing it. He was used to sleeping on the floor or in chairs, and could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He listened intently but he couldn’t hear anything from Louis.
He closed his eyes, marveling for a moment before sleep claimed him that he was back in Louis’s house again.
The cry woke him. Craig sat bolt upright. One more cry before he was fully awake. Craig wrestled free from the comforter and threw open Louis’s door. The room was in darkness and Craig couldn’t see a thing. He turned on the light, assessing the situation. Louis yelled out at the top of his voice. He was alone in the bed, and Craig couldn’t make out the words, just the fear in his tone. Louis threw his arms in front of him as if warding off blows.
Anger filled Craig as he realized Louis was reliving the assault. He climbed on the bed, yelping when Louis caught him on his cheek.
“Dammit!” He ducked, then caught Louis’s arm, which provoked Louis to further struggles. He or Louis were going to be hurt if he didn’t calm him. He lay over Louis’s body, pinning his arms and legs, holding his limbs close to his body.
“Let me go!” Louis yelled. “Let me go.”
“Lou, it’s me. It’s Craig. You’re safe.”
A sob burst from Lou. “Where are you, Craig? I need you. You aren’t here. I need you. I need my Daddy.” Then the tears started, streaming over his bruised cheeks to soak into the pillow.
Craig lay on top of him, shocked to the core. Had Louis called out for him? Not for anyone else? Just for him?
The storm raged, and Craig stayed where he was until Louis seemed calm enough for him to move, although he was still crying, heart-rending sobs that wrenched at Craig. Craig moved off him and settled at his side. Louis immediately rolled into him, burrowing as close as he could get. Craig wrapped his arms around him. He wasn’t sure where the bruises were, but at this point Louis didn’t seem to care. He cried as Craig whispered comforting nothings and stroked his silky hair. The shuddering sobs eased and finally stilled, and Louis remained in Craig’s arms. He was still awake; Craig could tell by the tension in his muscles. But when Craig moved, he said, “Don’t.”
Craig knew he was falling into a trap. He couldn’t make promises to this man and break them again. Better to make no promises. “Until you’re asleep,” he rumbled.
Louis sighed but he pressed in closer. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. Did you dream of the attack?”
“That’s all I see when I close my eyes,” Louis muttered.
Craig smoothed his hand over Louis’s head. “It’ll get better.”
Louis was quiet for long moments. “Do you dream about it? When you got shot?”
“Sometimes,” Craig admitted.
“You never told me.”
“We weren’t really talking then.”
“I’m sorry.”
Unseen by Louis, Craig grimaced. He knew what it was like to close his eyes and only see a nightmare, a gun pointing at him, a madman pulling the trigger. The crack of the weapon firing, the pain in his ears immediately overtaken by the pain in his chest which spread everywhere. He couldn’t hear the noise of men shouting, the man he’d shielded being pulled away. All he could see was the man who shot him go down in a hail of bullets, his body bouncing as it hit the ground.
“I wish I’d been there for you,” Louis said, tilting his head to look at him.
“It’s okay, baby, you weren’t to know.” He smoothed over Louis’s hair again, marveling as always at its dark silkiness. It hadn’t been okay, but that was the past. Craig didn’t want to rake over old wounds just yet. He wasn’t sure they were ready to be shown the light of day.
Louis slumped heavily against him, clearly worn out by the crying jag. Craig held him close until his breathing slowed, and he relaxed into sleep. Then Craig eased free of Louis’s clingy arms and soothed him as he grumbled. He covered him with the comforter and went back to his hard and lonely vigil outside the door, because no way was he going to sleep in Louis’s arms. That way lay madness.
Chapter 4
Louis
Louis woke up, his eyes raw and gritty, and momentarily confused by the fact he was in his own comfortable bed at home and not in the hospital room. Then the past forty-eighty hours came together like puzzle pieces slotting into place.
Craig.
His former Daddy was here.
At some point last night Craig had been in his bed. Louis remembered the feel of Craig’s arms around him, grounding him. Louis turned his head to discover the bed was empty. He wasn’t surprised but he was disappointed.
He rolled over to face the door. It was ajar, although he was sure it had been closed when he went to sleep. Louis sat up, groaning as all the bruises on his body made their presence known. The doctors had promised him the pain would subside soon enough. He couldn’t wait for that day to come.