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“I didn’t mention slitting throats or making people disappear. That’s all for you,” Finn told him.
“Damn right.” Jackson sniffed and made sure he had control of his emotions once again before he pulled away from Finn. “Will you put them on me?”
“Wait!” Michael jumped off his stool. “Let me get my phone! I want a picture of this.”
Jackson scowled, even if he was secretly pleased. He wouldn’t mind having a photo for himself. Maybe he would secretly use it as his background on his phone. The lock screen was of Michael and Finn—no one but him needed to know what was on the inside.
Chapter Eighteen
Michael
“I don’t want to!” Michael dug his heels in as he tried to yank his hand from Jackson’s hold.
“It’s been two weeks,” Jackson said. “Let’s just check out the playroom.”
“No!” Michael wasn’t trying to be a brat. He just wasn’t ready to go back in that room. He barely spent any time in the office anymore, but he could at least stay in the office, if he had Daddy Finn or Jackson with him. The playroom was different.
“Baby, please!” Jackson begged. “You’ve allowed something bad to take away one of the few things that you loved and adored. And the other littles and pups miss you.”
Michael missed his friends too. Except no! He wasn’t going back in there.
“The club is closed. There’s no one here but us,” Jackson said. “If you want to leave, then we’ll go. We’ll never say a word to anyone about this.”
“Except Daddy.” Daddy Finn didn’t like things being kept from him, especially the truth about Michael’s anxiety attacks. It had been a rough few weeks.
“You know I can’t keep anything from Finn. He knows all the best ways to torture me.” Jackson wiggled his brows while giving Michael a hot look. “And you like to help him.”
Guilty. Michael loved being used to teach Jackson a lesson. Or give him a reward. Basically, Michael had the best of both worlds. A Daddy that spoiled and doted on him and still being involved in all of Finn and Jackson’s scenes. He wasn’t a big fan of most of the BDSM lifestyles, but if Daddy and Jackson were involved, then he wanted to be too.
“Ten minutes,” Jackson offered. “Try for ten minutes. If you aren’t having fun, then we’ll go back and cuddle on the couch. I’ll even put on your stupid movie for you.”
Michael smacked Jackson’s arm. “Beauty and the Beast is not stupid!” It was Michael’s favorite movie ever. Caleb had sent a get better basket filled with snacks, bubbles, toys, coloring books, a new pacifier, and the DVD of Beauty and the Beast. Michael was glad Finn still owned a DVD player. Michael had been obsessed with the movie ever since.
“I just think she was better off without a spoiled fucking prince that didn’t know how to treat—”
“Nope!” Michael placed his hand over Jackson’s mouth. He did not want to hear Jackson’s admittedly thought-out rant about why Belle should have remained single and just taken advantage of the library.
“If you come with me, I promise to sit and watch the whole movie without making one snide comment.”
That was a pretty good bribe. “We leave whenever I say.” Michael appreciated what Jackson was trying to do. He did miss playing with his friends on his breaks and since he only played up in the apartment now, he was limited to what was in his small chest. And the few presents that he’d gotten over the last week for being a good boy. Michael was certain that Finn just wanted to give him more toys and puzzles.
“Come on.” Jackson tugged at his hand.
Michael had no choice but to follow. He’d made the deal after all. Daddy Finn had promised that the little furniture had been replaced but Michael still found his palms starting to sweat. He didn’t expect trouble. Not with the club closed but his stomach still rolled and nausea threatened just thinking about the last time he’d been in the playroom. Michael had hurt someone. Sure, Cary Jeffers didn’t have any injuries. The cops had taken him to the hospital at Finn’s insistence. Cary Jeffers was out on bail and staying with family. The family vowed to help Cary with his depression and anxiety. He would have the support and hopefully get the help he needed.
That was all good. Michael was happy Cary Jeffers would be okay.
Except Michael had hurt someone!
No one, not Daddy, not Jackson understood why Michael still struggled. Admittedly it hadn’t been until his brothers had barged into Finn’s small apartment and Michael sat down with them that Michael realized he might have more childhood trauma than he thought.
His parents had thrown things. Broken things. Yelled and screamed when they drank.
Michael’s biggest fear was turning out like either his mom or dad.
It was the main reason he didn’t drink.
Michael didn’t want to let anyone down like he’d been let down. Michael wanted to support his brothers. To be there for them. Knowing he was capable of violence scared him. He’d do anything for Finn or Jackson. What did that say about him?
