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Sloane stared at Isaac, not understanding. Isaac cocked his gun and put it to the back of Gabe’s head. “No! Please.” A tear rolled down Sloane’s cheek, his hands shaking as he held them up in front of him, a terrifying sense of dread washing over him, as if he knew the outcome of this scenario. “Whatever you want, but please, don’t hurt them.”
Isaac’s malicious grin all but stopped Sloane’s heart, and he moved the gun from Gabe to Dex and back. “Make your choice.”
“Why are you doing this? Gabe’s your brother!”
“Why? Because I’m a psychopath, obviously. And you? You’re a coward. Five seconds.”
Sloane looked from Gabe’s tearful hazel eyes to Dex’s pools of crystal blue before he shifted his gaze back to Isaac. “How about a trade? Me for them. It’s me you want, right?”
Isaac cocked his head to one side in thought, before his lips curled into a malevolent grin. “And give up the opportunity to make you suffer? No. Five.”
“I love you, Sloane,” Gabe said, drawing Sloane’s attention.
“Four.”
Sloane’s gaze went to Dex, his expression breaking Sloane’s heart. Dex smiled tenderly and nodded. “I understand.”
“Three.”
“I can’t,” Sloane pleaded with Isaac. “Please, don’t do this.” How could he? He loved Gabe, but that didn’t mean he could let Dex go. Dex was… extraordinary. He’d never met anyone like him. There was so much Sloane wanted to learn about him, to experience with him. Dex was good to him, always there to pick up the pieces, doing so with a warm smile and tender touch.
“Two.” Isaac moved the gun between Gabe and Dex.
“Please,” Sloane begged, dropping to his knees, his vision blurring from his tears, and his heart breaking. He never thought the day would come when he would find himself on his knees, begging a madman like Isaac, but he would do anything for the men before him. “Please.”
“One.”
The gun moved to Gabe’s head and Sloane cried out. “Not him!”
A shot rang out and Sloane released an anguished cry—
Sloane gasped, choking on a fierce cry, the room around him dark. Where the hell was he? What was going on? Was he still at the research facility?
“Sloane!”
Sloane scrambled off the bed so fast, he ran into the wall with his shoulder. He spun around, his heart beating wildly, his gaze moving frantically around the room before it landed on the man in the center of the large bed, the slice of moonlight cutting through the small gap in the curtain landing on disheveled dirty blond hair, casting a glow around the man’s head.
“Dex?”
Dex climbed off the mattress, his hands held up in front of him as he gingerly took a step closer, his expression filled with concern. “It’s me, buddy. It’s Dex.”
It had been a dream. No, it had been a nightmare, a very real, very vivid one that came flooding back in excruciating detail. What had he done? “Oh God.” He slid down the length of the wall, covering his face with his hands. Dex placed a hand on his shoulder, and Sloane couldn’t bear to look at him. He could still see it…. Dex?
??s limp body lying in a pool of blood, his bright blue eyes on Sloane… blood trickling from the corners of plump lips smiling tenderly at him.
“Hey, come on, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
Sloane shook his head. How could he explain to Dex what he’d done? He knew it was just a dream, but what did that say about him? About them? God, it had all been so real. He grabbed Dex and pulled him against him, hugging him so tight he heard Dex’s low groan, but he couldn’t let go. He had to know Dex was real, there in his arms, and alive, not executed at his words. “I’m sorry,” Sloane whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” Dex wheezed, tapping Sloane on the shoulder. “You know I love a good hug, buddy, but you’re kinda crushing me here.” Sloane loosened his grip, but he didn’t let go. He still couldn’t meet Dex’s gaze, so he buried his face against his partner’s neck. “That bad, huh?” Dex gently stroked Sloane’s arm. He didn’t deserve such tenderness.
“Yes,” Sloane replied, squeezing Dex involuntarily. He felt like such a child. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dex what he’d done. Isaac was right. He was a coward. Since he’d appeared on Dex’s doorstep in December after telling him he wanted to see where things went between them, telling him he wanted to move on, he still found himself unable to. Dex was so patient, the most patient guy Sloane had ever known, but how long could that last? He’d told Dex he just needed time, and he did, but what if time didn’t help? What if he could never let Gabe go? How long could he go on giving part of himself to Dex, hurting a good guy when Dex deserved so much better?
“Hey, look at me.” Dex gently took Sloane’s face in his hands, and Sloane lifted his gaze, a lump in his throat at the kindness in that handsome face. “It was a bad dream, okay? Whatever it was, you’re here now, with me. You’re safe, okay? Everything’s okay.”
Sloane nodded. He wished he could believe that. Despite the uneasy feeling in his gut, he allowed Dex to lead him back to bed, trying not to feel guilty over his subconscious choice. He held Dex close as he lay in bed, remaining awake long after Dex had fallen asleep. Sometimes he looked around the room and asked himself what the hell he was doing here, but then he only had to feel or see Dex beside him and a little voice in his head told him it was exactly where he needed to be. It was that feeling he drew on, allowing it to wash away the remnants of that terrible dream. It was okay. He was here with Dex. Everything was okay.
Remarkably, he managed to get in a few hours of sleep. He woke up before Dex, which was nothing new. He always did. It was kind of cheesy now that he thought about it, but not only was he always the first one awake, but he wanted to be. It had become his routine. He’d wake up, and watch Dex sleep for a brief moment, grinning like an idiot at his partner’s sleeping form. The guy always looked like he’d gone three rounds with the duvet and lost. It was wrapped around his waist, one leg on top, arm tucked up against his body, the other under his crooked pillow, his hair sticking up every which way and stubble grown in. Damn he was sexy.
