Page 23

Fletch’s smile was every bit as big as Tuff’s. “Not yet. I’m trying to let July heal a little more before Kylo launches himself on him. He’s got a lot of important stitches he can’t tear open.”

Tuff’s smile slipped away. “How bad is it?”

Fletch swallowed the helplessness he felt. “Rex tried gutting him. July sewed himself up and went on the run. He was bleeding out when we found him and needed surgery to repair all the damage Rex had done to his vocal cords while choking him. You’re right. He’s brave as hell, but he’s also terrified and vulnerable. Henry wasn’t joking about the soft touch. I’m still holding my breath, waiting for him to fall apart. I don’t know, man. All we can do is give him a peaceful life full of acceptance, and hope it’s enough.”

Tuff nodded along. “Sounds like a plan.”

With renewed confidence in Tuff’s capabilities, Fletch headed inside. He had a good boy to find. It was time for his nap.

Chapter Eleven

On the floor with his back against the wall, Fletch read to July. July sat on his lap with his legs stretched out in front of him, the same as Fletch. He slid down just enough to curl his toes on the toe of Fletch’s work boots. At some point, Fletch had stopped reading. July didn’t seem to notice. Fletch couldn’t stop watching July’s game. His legs were directly on top of Fletch’s legs. July’s feet were on Fletch’s feet. Fletch couldn’t stop smiling as July kept scooting down an inch at a time to try harder to get his toes curled on just the right spot.

“Why are you so big?”

Fletch barked out a laugh. “Why are you so small?”

July slid down until his head was on Fletch’s lap. His legs were bent at the knee and his feet placed on either side of Fletch’s legs. He stared up at Fletch with the most gorgeous eyes Fletch had ever seen. “Anorexia.”

July’s answer blanked Fletch’s mind before sending that shocked organ into overdrive. He went through every emotion.

Before Fletch figured out what to say, July kept going. “Not anymore, but when I was in my pre-teen and teen years. After a nice trip to the hospital, I was admitted into inpatient treatment. Sometimes, I catch myself having all the same thoughts I had back then. My stomach looks a little bigger than I like. Maybe it’d be okay to shed a few pounds. My thighs don’t look as cute as I hoped in a skirt I love. Maybe if I skipped a meal or two, I’d look better. You know, things like that.”

“You’re perfect just as you are. In fact, I think you should eat more. I think about that a lot, actually. You always have more food left on your plate after you eat than when you started. It’s a skill that needs to be studied, honestly.”

July smiled. “That’s sweet. There’re just some things you can’t rewire. My weight will stay between two pounds up and down. Then it’ll creep up to the next two numbers, yo-yoing. I’ll accept the higher number, because it’s just a little weight gain, while simultaneously panicking that it’ll be another two pounds soon, and then another. There’s nothing I can do to stop the anxiety. Sometimes I’m scared to catch my reflection in a shop window or whatever. My old therapist said that’s likely why I love makeup so much. That’s something I can control about my looks, so it soothes me.”

Fletch was blown away by how open July was. He was nowhere near brave enough to show that much of his fears.

“Thank you for trusting me with that.” He stroked July’s hair. “You’re strong as hell and beautiful inside and out. You could be three-hundred pounds, and I wouldn’t see you any differently.” Or want him any less. He traced the line of July’s jaw. His heart was bursting with the desire to tell July how he felt. A motion to his left caught his attention. Sammie sat a few feet away, holding his blankie against him, as if needing comfort. He held Fletch’s gaze with light blue pleading eyes. A stone dropped in his stomach. He didn’t have what it took to be a good daddy. Seeing the constant hurt Sammie carried, Fletch was well aware he was the cause. Fletch went back to staring down at July. His eyes were closed. July looked as if he savored the way Fletch dragged the back of his knuckles up and down his jaw. Maybe Fletch wasn’t good enough for July, but he would still take care of him. It kind of sounded like July needed that.

A detective searched for him. July should have seen that one coming, honestly. Rex had the power to use law enforcement against him in any manner he chose. That was a terrifying thought. He could practically see his picture posted all over the internet. He hoped they used a good photo and not his driver's license. July shuddered at the idea. Then again, if they used that image, maybe no one would recognize him. He definitely had not slayed that day.

July sat on the floor of Tuff’s bedroom, cuddling all the cats. All the worrying about the detective made his head and stomach hurt. Damn. He didn’t know where his migraine medicine was. That thought led to another. Maybe they were right to have a missing person’s report circulating for him. He hadn’t taken a single one of his medications in days. Horror struck, making him feel worse. Even though he had nowhere near caught his breath from his walk, July raced for the hallway. That move heaped more physical pain on top of the growing pressure in his head. When July reached the bedroom, he went straight for the mountain of things he still hadn’t put away. He spent a minute bent at the waist digging before going down on his knees. That hurt too on the hardwood floor, but the pain wasn’t intolerable. By the time he had tossed the final item from the last bag, tears rolled down his face. His meds weren’t there. He was seconds away from being incapacitated for days when he had just gotten out of the sickbed. His entire body shivered with weakness and an overload of aches. Crying made the situation worse, but for goodness’ sake. He was so tired of being him. Why had he been chosen to carry more than ten men? He wasn’t strong like Fletch always claimed. No one had given him a choice. If so, he definitely would have stopped taking on new challenges years ago.

Muscular arms encircled him. He found himself trapped against a chest he could touch forever.

“Talk to me, kitten. What’s happening in your head?”

Despite the physical pain, it felt so good when Fletch held him. “My migraine meds are gone. I don’t even remember the last time I took any of my daily prescriptions, and my head hurts.” July cried harder, making his head feel like it might explode.

Fletch stood and gently scooped July off the floor. “Okay. We’ve got this. I saw a few prescription bottles in your toiletries bag. Let me put you to bed and I’ll get them.”

July sniffed and fought the urge to fully fall apart. His toiletries bag. He clearly remembered packing his meds there. Now he felt dumb.

Fletch gently set him on the bed before racing to the bathroom. He returned as quickly as he had left. With his gaze locked on the bottles, he moved to stand next to July’s side of the bed. “Okay. We have four things here. According to the labels, one is daily with food, two are twice a day, and one is as needed for pain. I’m guessing you need all this since it’s been a minute. Damn. Let me get you some juice and a snack.” He zipped into the kitchenette in their bedroom and was back in no time. Fletch opened the juice for him and handed the small bottle to July.

July stared at the apple juice. The tiny bottle was adorable. He had to think about anything but the way he hurt.

Fletch handed him four pills and a snack pack of frosted animal crackers. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched July. With his back against a stack of pillows propped against the headboard, July quickly swallowed the pills. He chugged the juice. July hated taking medicine.

Fletch took his empty bottle to the kitchen. When he saw July wasn’t eating, he opened the bag of cookies for him. “Eat. I’m not moving from your side until that bag is empty.”

While fighting back heaves, July choked down the snack. His stomach wanted to reject everything. Fletch hadn’t been joking about making sure July ate. He didn’t move from July’s side and watched his every move. He lightly massaged July’s legs.

With some of the pounding receding, probably from the snack more than anything, July’s mind started going in other directions.

“You probably shouldn’t do that. I haven’t waxed in weeks.”