Sloane came around and sat on the robust coffee table across from Dex, but not blocking his view of the TV. Dex could tell Sloane was studying him, and Dex just didn’t have the energy. He was too exhausted, physically and emotionally. In a few hours, he’d have to be at work with a full day of training exercises awaiting him.
“What’s wrong?” Sloane leaned in to take his hand. “Talk to me, Daley.”
Funny how that street didn’t run both ways. Dex thought about it, thought about every time he’d swallowed down a jab to his heart. It was getting more painful each time. He kept telling himself to pull back, not to make the same mistake he always made of falling too hard, too fast. He could see himself getting deep, but unable to get off the path to ruin. “You have any nice dreams lately?”
Sloane’s endearing puzzled look made it worse.
“I was uh, giving you an impromptu hand job, and you called me Gabe.” Dex pulled his hand out of Sloane’s, watching his partner’s brows draw together in confusion before realization dawned on him.
“Shit. Dex. I—”
“I know. You miss him. Your subconscious, your heart, it wants what it wants, right?”
“Don’t, please.” Sloane reached for Dex’s hand again, and Dex allowed it. “What do you want from me, Dex?”
Dex didn’t spend long thinking of his reply. What he wanted was unattainable, at least at the moment. The future was unclear. “I know it’s selfish, but I’d like it if when you were with me, that you were with me.” He was asking for too much. It wasn’t as if Sloane could control his subconscious.
“I am. I just need—”
“Time. I know.” Dex hated seeing the crestfallen expression on Sloane’s face, but he couldn’t summon the strength to brush his feelings aside with a joke. Not this time.
“We’ve been apologizing to each other a lot lately,” Sloane said quietly, his thumb stroking the back of Dex’s hand.
“Yeah.”
“Do you… want me to go?”
Dex met Sloane’s eyes, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering at the unspoken need. “Do you want to?”
After some hesitation, Sloane shook his head, his bottom lip jutted out tragically. “No.”
“Good.” Dex turned off the TV, tugged at Sloane’s hand, and led him upstairs. He climbed into bed and lay on his side, his heart heavy. Sloane wrapped his arms around Dex’s middle, and pulled Dex back against him, the gesture bringing a small smile to Dex’s face. He rolled over to face Sloane, and a pang of guilt hit him for the troubled look he’d placed on his partner’s face. He leaned in for a kiss, relieved when Sloane returned his soft kiss.
Maybe Dex should have gone back to sleep and not said anything. The guy had enough on his plate without Dex acting like some whiny, clingy boyfriend. Especially since he didn’t even qualify for the title.
It wasn’t as if Dex hadn’t been in this situation before. He was always moving too quickly, but he’d never had a problem with it. Now, things felt… different. He felt different. Something about the guy had Dex wishing for things he’d never even thought about before. Was it because when he looked into Sloane’s bright amber eyes, all he saw was a world of pain and heartache? Did he really think he could change that? Even if they had a lifetime together, would those eyes ever be filled with something… more? Not liking where his thoughts were heading, he pulled back and ran a thumb over Sloane’s brow, speaking quietly. “Get some sleep.”
“Dex….”
Dex put his finger to Sloane’s lips, giving him as much of a smile as he could muster. “It’s okay. Really. One day at a time, right?”
Sloane nodded, though his uncertainty was clear. Despite that, he closed his eyes as Dex continued to stroke his face, enjoying the feel of Sloane’s stubble, the rugged line of his jaw, the way his hair fell over his eyes. His partner was always letting it grow out until Tony threatened to take a pair of scissors to it. Dex liked when it curled around Sloane’s ears, softening his features. It was a long time before Dex fell asleep, and when he did, it was restless and filled with unpleasant dreams of a madman chasing him and a lover he could never reach.
Chapter 3
SLOANE WALKED through the empty, white halls, the too-bright lights almost blinding. There was something familiar about the place. An icy chill ran up his spine, and for a split second, he thought he was back. Had they come for him? Looking down at himself, he was relieved to find he was no longer that frightened child, one of many occupying a room in the numerous wards. He was grown up, far stronger than he had been at the time. His rifle was in his hand, and he was dressed in his uniform. He was here on a mission. Something important. He wished he could remember what that something was.
As he advanced with caution, he did his best to control his breathing. There was a set of double doors at the end. White like the rest of the hall. He didn’t know what it was, but something felt wrong. He went to press his earpiece when he heard panting, followed by a voice that brought him to a halt.
“Sloane… help me. Please….”
“Gabe?”
“Through the doors… please hurry! Oh God—”
Sloane bolted down the hall and burst through the doors, coming to an abrupt halt just inside the vast empty gray room. “Please no.” He shook his head, his heart leaping into his throat and the back of his eyes stinging. Gabe knelt on the floor, his hands tied behind his back. Beside him, in the same position, was Dex. Isaac stood with a .38 in his hand. Sloane went to aim his rifle but when he lifted his arms, his hands were empty. What the hell? What was going on? How did Isaac get hold of Gabe and Dex? Why couldn’t he remember anything?
“It’s time for you to make your choice.”