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Chapter One
Quinnabsentlystrokedhisbottom lip with his index finger as he watched Peyton sleep.
Peyton was on his back, with the sling bracing his shoulder in place. A pillow was under his arm, supporting him. He’d been quiet on the car ride back to Quinn’s place from the hospital, and once they’d helped him up the stairs, he’d passed out in Quinn’s bed in minutes.
Quinn could only hope that the pain medication he’d been given would help him get a decent night's sleep. He doubted the rest of them would be so lucky.
The angry stitches on Peyton’s cheek stirred something inside Quinn that was equal parts anger and fear. He knew all too well how differently tonight could have turned out. He’d pieced together the results at too many crime scenes to have any illusions about the kind of danger that his men had been in, the horrifying reality of what he’d almost lost in one fell swoop. Sebastian’s words echoed through him.
Peyton killed them.
I sometimes do work for a man who deals with unsavoury situations.
He’s the one that gives me cases I can’t turn away.
Quinn ran a hand down his face, his fingers curling around his chin, the stubble scratching his skin.Fuck. What had happened tonight? What was Sebastian involved in, and what did it mean for them?
More importantly, how could he find a way to keep them all safe from this?
“Quinn.”
Quinn turned at Sebastian’s softly spoken word. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching, his face pensive and hesitant. He’d switched his contacts for his glasses, and the black frames somehow made his face seem more delicate, like a sculpted statue that needed to be kept behind red rope. His left eyebrow piercing gleamed under the artificial light, stark against the pale of his face. He looked like he needed to sleep for a century. Quinn figured they all looked like that.
“Will made hot chocolate. Come on.”
Quinn brushed his knuckles against Peyton’s good cheek and kissed his forehead, his lips pausing there as though unable to let go. He stood, took one last look at Peyton’s sleeping form, and then followed Sebastian out into the rumpus room that all the bedrooms in his home branched out from.
Before they could make it to the stairs in the small hallway that led to the first floor, Sebastian stopped abruptly in front of him. He put a hand against the wall, forcing Quinn to halt completely.
“What is it?” Quinn asked, alarmed.
“Hey,” Sebastian said, his voice soothing and settling over Quinn like a balm. “Talk to me.”
Quinn had nothing to say. What could he say? “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you both”? Words were meaningless. They always had been. Actions spoke louder, and Quinn’s had always spoken too loud in all the wrong ways.
He searched Sebastian’s face, wishing he could read it as easily as he’d once been able to. He’d been on the outside so long, looking in with longing and regret as Sebastian had grown into someone that Quinn didn’t know. They were re-learning each other all over again.
And Quinn could have lost him tonight.
Lost him and Peyton both.
“Quinn.”
That was all it took for Quinn’s facade to break. He dropped his forehead onto Sebastian’s chest with a shuddering breath. His breaths were too sharp, digging into his ribs like knives.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he whispered brokenly. Even having Sebastian here in his arms wasn’t the reassurance he needed. Somewhere deep in his mind, he wasn’t convinced that something irreversible hadn’t happened and he wasn’t standing alone in his home once more with no one to blame but himself.
Sebastian kissed the top of his head, one hand sliding to cradle the back of it. Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the solid touch, the strength and warmth that Sebastian was sharing with him. He took a deep breath.
“We’re both okay,” Sebastian promised.
Quinn fisted his hands in the shirt Sebastian was wearing. It hung a little loose around the chest and shoulders. Quinn hadn’t been able to stomach seeing the blood on Sebastian’s shirt and had offered one of his in exchange so Sebastian could throw his own out. Washing it was out of the question; Quinn wanted it gone.
Warm lips pressed to his temple, lingering. “I’m right here,” Sebastian said. It was so low that it was more the vibration of the words against his skin than the sound itself that permeated the fog around Quinn’s heart.
Sebastian tipped Quinn’s chin up with his thumb, brushing it gently against his jaw. “Right here,” he repeated.
He kissed Quinn softly, and everything in Quinn stilled, focusing on the pressure of Sebastian’s lips against his. The heaviness in his heart lifted just enough that it didn’t feel like it was completely crushing him, and the broken cracks of his soul mended enough that he couldthinkwithout despair bracketing him from all sides.
