Page 12 of Parts of Us


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“Where’s Cam?” he asked, opening his eyes. “Are you okay?” He blinked drowsily and struggled to concentrate.

I shook my head. “Can you focus on yourself for a second?” We had to make so many changes at home if we were going to get him to a stress-free place in life. “I wanna know why I’m here and not him.”

I could admit, I’d fussed over Lucian too. I was the worrywart Daddy who sometimes let his concern transfer to the other worrywart Dom of the house—and it’d been like that for years. But he could never relax. He worked too much, and when he eventually came home, he tended to bring work home with him—or find something else to stress over.

Since last fall, Cam had been the main reason Lucian wanted to semi-retire and become the “perfect Master” for his boy.

Cam had never asked for a perfect Master, though. He just wanted Lucian to be well. And present. Alive. Healthy. Happy.

What the fuck was even a perfect Master?

Lucian raked his teeth over his bottom lip, then yawned and threw a glance at the IV stand—as if he was annoyed by the medication that took away his anxiety. Or, in this case, slowed down his damn brain.

“I don’t want him to see me weak,” he admitted, slurring his speech a bit. “But I miss him. I wanna hold him.”

Fucking dumbass.

“Now you’re as stupid as I was when I didn’t want Noa to help me with my training,” I told him.

He winced and rubbed absently over his chest.

This couldn’t go on.

I cleared my throat and stretched out my right leg. “I’ll tell you what you told me then. RACK goes both ways. We can’t be aware of all the risks in kink if the boys don’t tell us everything—and that’s a two-way street. If we shut them out when we feel down—weak or whatever—it’ll chip away at their trust in us.”

Lucian blew out a breath. Every time he blinked, his eyelids looked a little heavier than before.

“I sound smart,” he muttered.

“You have your moments.” My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I hurriedly pulled it out. Fuck, it wasn’t Cam. But it was Noa.

I’m glad it’s not a heart attack. Is it my fault? Is it because I brought him takeout for lunch all winter? Cameron went outside to get some air. Master Dean went with him. When can I see you? I love you!

I felt my forehead crease. Noa not using textspeak was slightly disconcerting. Every now and then, he tried to copy Cam and text properly, with punctuation and everything, but he was usually slinging lowercase abbreviations. Unless he went balls to the wall with all caps.

What worried me most was his first question, though.

I wrote him back.

It’s absolutely not your fault, freckles. A few months of takeout have nothing on twenty years of working too much. If anything, you’ve been his bright spot in the middle of the day when everything around him has pushed and pulled him in different directions.

I’m with Lucian now. I think he’s moments away from falling asleep, and then I’ll come out to you and Cam. Did you get something to eat? See you soon.

“Where’s my boy?” Lucian mumbled, half asleep.

I scratched my jaw and flicked a glance between Lucian and my phone, and something didn’t sit right with me. Cam wasn’t the type to go silent. He was usually first to respond to texts, even if he only left a thumbs-up or a heart. He didn’t like to keep people waiting.

I had to go out to him.

I winced at the uncomfortable spasms that traveled up and down my leg, and I rubbed my thigh. As much as it bothered me, I needed to take the boys home soon. They could see Lucian—if we could convince the nurses, even if Noa and Cam had to go in one at a time—but… Honestly, I’d be surprised if Lucian was awake by the time I walked out in less than a minute.

I got out of the chair with a grunt, and I reached for the crutches.

“I’ll go find Cam, honey.”

“Wait…” Lucian frowned and managed to crack his eyes open. “Say you love me…as much as I love…”

I smiled.

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