AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He’s…” Greer blew out a breath, and I heard some rustling in the background, as if he was walking to another room. “Today’s been rough on him, man. He feels guilty as fuck for leavin’. Meanwhile, he’s scared shitless he’s about to lose you. And do you know what it does to a slave—in that mind-set—to worry about losing that one person who’s supposedly his world? For chrissakes, we’ve been teaching this at demos for years.”
The last thing I needed was a lecture on things I already knew, but I fucking deserved it. With a hard swallow, I sank down on the floor and scrubbed a hand over my face.
“He’s deep into that line of thinking, Lucian. When something happens to you, he suffers even more because he’s not in control. He can’t do shit but watch.”
Another thing we’d drilled into the skulls of our members for as long as I could remember. When a sub fucked up, the sub suffered. When a Dom fucked up…the sub suffered.
My eyes started burning as I tried to see things from Cameron’s perspective. What it would be like to watch a loved one wreck himself—all while that person constantly swore to always be there.
Fucking hell, I was the lowest of the low. And to think, I’d given myself a pat on the back for never canceling plans. I’d been firm on being honest about working late, rather than promising I’d be home early and then calling to say I couldn’t make it.
Talk about setting the bar low.
“I don’t need to tell you any of this, do I? You already know.”
I sniffled and cleared my throat, and I exhaled unsteadily. “Knowledge doesn’t necessarily prevent stupidity. Evidently.”
Greer hummed. “Question now is, what’re you gonna do about it? You’re one of the best men I know, so I expect it to blow my fuckin’ mind.”
I croaked a chuckle and wiped at my cheek. “I can always trust you to raise the bar, my friend.”
“More like putting it where it should be,” he replied. “To be honest, I fuckin’ hate comin’ atchu like this, because you’re a Master worth looking up to. I expect more from you—because that’s what you’ve delivered in the past. You always put a sub’s needs before your own. You’re always protective. You’re always careful around behavioral conditioning and settin’ up structures that will affect someone’s mind-set. So… Jesus Christ, why did you think you could fuck with the entire foundation Cam stands on? He needs you. He needs you—to be okay. You are that foundation, in case I wasn’t already crystal fuckin’ clear.”
I screwed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose as the hits kept coming. He wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t thought of today or been told by KC—and I was sure Penelope was going to give me an earful along the same lines tomorrow. And I had no response. What could I say? I’d overestimated my own abilities, and in doing so, I’d done exactly what Greer was telling me now. I’d stolen the very foundation Cam walked on. I’d ripped it away from him in the middle of an arrogant slew of promises to the contrary, how I’d always be there for him and that he could count on me.
“One last thing, buddy,” Greer said. “We’re part of dynamics where not just one person relies on us, but three. A lot more is at stake, and a lot more will unravel if you yank the wrong thread.”
Christ, he knew where to strike. I coughed to clear my throat, and I rubbed at my chest. I’d noticed this today, how different things were when one part was missing. And in the end, that was all we were. Several parts of a whole.
Greer cleared his throat too. “And now that I’ve given you a sufficient amount of shit, I’ll have your back when our mates get their turn in the comin’ days. Except for Pen—good luck with her.”
I chuckled thickly and scrubbed at my face again. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused briefly. “So, paint the scene for me. How bad is it? Do you have a plan, or are you just standing there ironing your suits with a lost look in your eyes?”
My God, ironing my suits?
I glanced around me, wondering what he’d say if he actually saw me. Maybe he’d call 9-1-1.
I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand and gathered my thoughts. “Um.” Speaking of, my cheeks were probably a good place to start. “It’s the first time in probably six years I haven’t shaved in over twenty-four hours, so I’m moving into stubble territory.”
Greer snorted softly. “Oh, remember 2013? Our goatee phase!”
I made a face. “You could pull that off. I couldn’t.”
He chuckled. “I thought you looked fuckable.”
Damn.
My eyes stung all over again. Only a great friend could make you smile through heartbreak, and Greer Finlay was one of them. I sniffled and tried fruitlessly to compose myself, but it wasn’t easy when I knew Cam was in pain. Because of me. My chest tightened with a dull anxiousness—and fear. I was terrified I’d caused more harm than he could forgive.
The next time I wiped my tears, I used my hoodie, and that was another way to paint the scene. “I’m sitting on the floor in the kitchen. I’m wearing a hoodie and sweats, and?—”
“Jesus, man. Where’s KC? That sounds like a cry for help.”
I rolled my eyes as more tears fell down, and I shook my head to myself.
I couldn’t make jokes now.
