Perfect

By LadyLovely

Published on Jul 28, 2005

Gay

Perfect

~ Chapter 20 ~

Gabriel's POV

I checked my watch, scowling. It was getting late, almost time for dinner. I had spent the afternoon in the office. Losing myself in the work. I hadn't realized how much I paperwork there was until I let it pile up. There were invoices to go over. Supplies to order. New job figures to consider. Pay stubs to write. The list went on and on.

I shut down the office for the day. Wanting to get home to Connor. Regretting staying away for so long.

Blood roared through my vein's as I sped along Hwy 410, my fear escalating with each passing mile, something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

By the time I brought the truck to a tire-skidding halt in front of the house, I was nearly out of my mind with panic. "Oh God."

Part of the street was corded off by the police. A row of cruisers stretched along the curb, red and blue lights flashing in some macabre special effect. Two ambulances waited with their bay doors open.

I didn't bother turning off the car. I jumped out. Racing to the house. 'Please, let him be okay.' I prayed. 'Please God let him be okay. I'll do anything just let him be okay.' I saw paramedics wheeling a gurney. Raw fear twisted my insides and sweat broke out on my body as I ran toward the gurney, praying I would not see Connor lying there.

A tall cop moved in, stepping in front of me, blocking my path. When I tried to go around him, the man grabbed a hold of my arms and twisted it painfully behind my back. I bucked and twisted, not caring if I snapped the bone.

"Goddamnit! Let go of me!"

"Sir, I can't let you go in there. This is a crime scene."

"This is my house." I yelled. "I live here. What happened? Where's Connor?" I was ready to fight my way in. No one was keeping me from him. No one.

"Sir, please calm down." The officer said. "I need to see some ID before I let you onto the premises."

"Fuck your ID." I shouted back. "I want to see Connor."

He was in danger. I smelled it in the air. Felt it crawling on my skin. I had to get to him. Now.

"Sir, if you don't calm down. I'm going to have to arrest you."

I opened my mouth to let him have it. But Detective Haynes emerged from the swarm of officers surrounding me. His face was grim.

"Let him go, Davis." He ordered.

He released me immediately, and I rushed forward. "Connor..." I gasped out his name, almost pleading for him to be all right.

"He's got him."

"Jesus, No."

"We think it happened a few hours ago. We're scouring the area for any signs of them."

I shook my head. Unable to believe this was real. "But you said he'd be protected. You said that nothing would happen to him."

"There were no grantees. We all knew he was in danger until his stalker was caught."

I lashed out. Grabbing the Detective by the throat. "How could this happen? You were suppose the protect him. What the fuck are you good for? Why kind of police are you people?"

I felt something cold and hard at the back of my head. I stiffened.

"Remove your hands from the detective."

Detective Haynes flicked a glance at the officers, their guns pulled. Ready for me to make a move. "Stand down." He stated.

"But Sir..."

"Now." He growled.

The pressure on my head eased.

I thrust my face close to his. "If he dies I'm holding you personally responsible."

"I already hold myself responsible. For his life. And for the lives of the two officers who's already lost theirs."

"What?" I asked, hoarsely.

"We found them in the squad car. Throats slashed. They didn't even have time to draw their guns."

"Jesus," I whispered. I raised a hand, as if doing so could hold back the ugly truth, and then lowered it again. "Oh Jesus." If he'd done that to two trained policemen. What would he do to Connor?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Connor's POV

I awoke to darkness. Unfathomable darkness and silence, and a fear that slid its cold hands around my throat each time I awakened in this suffocating abyss of nothingness. Not for the first time, I reached out in panic, certain that Gabriel would be there. That I would touch his hand and this would be all a horrifying dream I would wake from. An unknown force restricted my movements; yet my hand connected with the moist, heavy air that smelled like rank creek sediment and the filmy vegetation that flourished just beneath the water's surface. And something else-something nauseatingly sweet, like rotten meat.

Where the hell was I? How long had I been here?

I rubbed my chin on my shoulder, the coarse hair chafing my skin-a good indicator that I'd been here awhile. Then, there was the gnawing hollow in my belly.

My shoulders, and ribs were burning. My brain was fuzzy.

Think.

A monster. My monster was back.

A noise.

With a scrape of metal and a groan of wood, a hole opened above, pouring light down a steep flight of stairs. It reminded me of sunlight pouring through a break in black storm clouds-a ray dancing with dust particles. Along with it came fresh, cool air that brushed over my hot brow like a breath.

I glanced around, noting that I was lying on a bare mattress on a wood bed frame in a room with damp wood walls and an earth floor that looked slick with mud. There were deep footprints partially filled with brown water leading toward me and back to the stairs. A shot of pure terror crawled through me as I realized I was naked. My legs and arms were tied to the bed frame.

A figure approached, holding a flashlight out to light the way. Heavy feet thumping on the wood steps as he descended.

I did my best to push myself into sitting position. My eyes throbbed from the assault of light on my pupils. My empty stomach rebelled and I gagged, heaving up nothing but bitter gas.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Good, you're awake." He said, in a flat tone. I couldn't see his face. He was just a shadow of black leather, and a malevolent voice that was laced with evil.

I've heard that voice before. But where, I couldn't quite place it.

"You FUCKING BASTARD." I bellowed, bucking against my bounds. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He laughed darkly. "You have to pay for your sins."

"What sins? I haven't done anything to you. I don't even know who you are."

That propelled him into action. One second I felt his eyes on me, the next he was there in front of me. For the first time I got a good look at him.

"You!" I gasped out, shocked, recognizing him instantly.

"I have to hand it to you, you deceptive whore," he rasped. "You pulled me in. I haven't had this much fun playing for a long time." A knife appeared in his hand and he ran it down my throat, up my jaw, the point grating against my skin dangerously. "But all good things must come to an end."

My throat closed up with fear. I didn't dare move. Breathe. Or think. My focus was on him. The knife.

"So beautiful." He breathed, the soft caress in his voice making my skin crawl.

He stepped back. Walking towards the back of the room. A clang vibrated across the room, then the cool flow of water.

I couldn't believe it was him. Why would he want to hurt me? Nothing was making sense. I've only spoken to him a handful of times. I searched my brain for something. Anything that would make sense, but nothing. He was a doorman. I was polite to him, but I never did anything that would encourage or cause this madness.

Shuffling sounds indicated that he was returning.

I fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn't give in to it, I had to think, I had to concentrate. If I panicked I was helpless.

He came to stand beside me. A bucket in his hand.

"I've met you before haven't I? You're the doorman at my building?" I asked, trying to stall for time.

He smiled his shark grin, his teeth glistening in the darkness. "That's how we first met."

"What's your name?" I asked cautiously.

"You never did ask, did you?" He said, almost curiously. "It's Vincent Chambers."

'How could a monster have such an ordinary name,' I asked myself hysterically.

He looked different, his head was completely shaven, an odd contrast to the dirty blond messy hair I was used to him sporting. He seemed older. Before I would have placed him in his early twenty's. Now he looked more like some one in their late twenty's or early thirty's. The hazel eyes were missing also. I had noticed the color one day, when I had said hello to him, and was struck by the intensity of the distinct greens and browns within its depths. In there place, were black eyes. So dark they looked unreal.

"People are so very easy to fool," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "Put on a wig, contacts, and they never suspect a thing."

He spoke casually as if we were sitting at the kitchen table, talking over coffee.

"You'll never get away with this."

"Oh, but I already have." He announced his voice tinted with mockery. "I've provided the police with valuable information. Why would they start to suspect me?"

The truth in his statement made me nauseous.

"But why? At least tell me that. What have I done?"

He dipped his hand in the bucket; pulled out a sponge, then aggressively squeeze the water out of it.

"Your act isn't working. I'm not buying it." He said, bending over and running the sponge across my right shoulder and I cringed. "You know what your sins are."

"No I don't, tell me, please. Maybe I could fix it somehow." I said, applauding myself for not losing control as he calmly began to wash my chest.

"You toyed with me. Made me want you. But it was a game wasn't it? I thought you were different but you just like the rest. You're just like her. A whore, who can't keep their legs closed." He said, his movements becoming angrier. Rubbing so hard, my skin felt as if it were being stripped off. "You let him touch you didn't you? Let him sully your pristine body? Didn't you?" He screeched.

"Wh-oo?" I stammered. But I knew whom he was talking about. Gabriel.

His attack came out of nowhere. Viciously he struck down. The blade slashing the side of my face, so swiftly, I wouldn't have known anything occurred, if not for the gushing flow of blood that slid down my face. "Shut your mouth. You're a liar. You know who he is. I saw you with him. Like a wanton slut, you went to him. Even though you knew I wanted you. That I would do anything for you."

My body was stiff as a board. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. He was out of his fucking mind.

Jerkily he continued his task. Cleaning the blood that had spilled. "You have to be clean. I have to scrub your body of sin before I send you for the ultimate judgment. Your soul will still be tainted. But your body will be clean."

He dipped his hand in water again, and pulled it back out to watch my arms. He repeated the process of dipping, and washing for several minutes. The silence in the room was harsh.

Revulsion raked my body. I had to stop him. I couldn't bear it if he kept touching me. I would rather he killed me than touch me.

There was an expression on his face, in his eyes that made me shudder. Desire. He was excited. He was enjoying this. He looked at my naked body and reached out, his hand sliding it over my soft penis.

I gagged, and my control broke. "Don't touch me!" I screamed.

This time I saw it coming before he moved. I had baited him. Wanting to end this before it went too far. I wouldn't let him rape me. I knew it was his plan. I wouldn't die like that. His hand was on my throat, pressing hard, and he bent over so his face was close to mine. He was livid with rage. "Do not ever speak to me like that again," He ground out.

He was cutting off my air. I gagged again, choking frantically trying to think what to do.

His face was molten red as he released my throat. Desperately I sucked in breaths of air.

"You won't get out of your punishment so easily." He hissed, dragging his belt out of its loops. "YOU ARE NOT in charge HERE! I AM! YOU.DO.NOT.CONTROL. Me! You will learn discipline."

I choked back a scream and tried to shrink away as he raised the belt over his head, the room filling with the sound of leather as it hissed through the air.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gabriel's POV

There was no sign of him. Two days of searching. And nothing. Just weak leads and dead-ends.

They thought he was dead. I knew they did. I felt it with every pitying look Hunter and the other officers gave me, with every consoling smile.

They were giving up.

But I knew the truth in the core of my being. Connor wasn't dead. He wasn't. I would feel it. Like the loss of my heart or of a limb. I would feel the sudden evocable demise of his presence in the universe. My soul would have cried out in deep devastation.

No Connor wasn't dead. I just had to find him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Connor's POV

He'd wielded the belt with savage fury, raising bloody, stinging welts all along my chest and legs. Cris-crosses had begun to form where he'd cut deeply, with repeated strikes in the same area on my chest. Right over my heart.

I don't know what made him stop but in mid-motion he did. He halted, and looked at me with a doll like glee that made me realize the word monster was nothing close to a fitting name for him.

I choked, sobbing, as the he climbed the stairs.

Blind with anguish I began to work the bed leg back and forth. Not easy. The slimy ooze under me made leverage next to impossible. Every few minutes I was forced to stop and lean against the headboard as I caught my breath and willed back the pain in my body.

Above me music began to play, a sad jazz song. I could hear him humming in the background.

The wood was old and soft around the nail heads. With each yank of the leg, the rusty nail squeaked like a dry hinge; each time, I froze, certain the creature upstairs would hear and come clamoring down.

With one last heave backward, the leg popped free. My back slammed against the headboard, my mouth flew open as pain tore through me, I fought to contain the agony that choked off my breath and made every pore bead with sweat.

The impact of my body must have knocked some of the worn wood in the headboard free also, because it began to sag behind me. I slammed my shoulder against it. Closing my mind against the pain. I let out a quiet half-sob and moan of relief when I was able to lift the joint enough to pull my hand free.

It took all the energy I had to untie myself. When I was finished. My eyes drifted closed. The hazy gray clouds of dreams made me drift away but I fought against it.

Footsteps above-heavy and lumbering-forced me back to reality.

After several attempts, I managed to sit up, to crawl to my knees. I scrambled through the wrecked basement. Hoping to find something. Anything that I could use as a weapon.

A pile of garbage on the side of the room caught my attention. But as I sifted through it, nothing...There was nothing...but old shoes...and...wait...my hand connected with cold steel. I held it close to my face. Trying to make out what it was in the darkness. I molded the shape in my hand. A diamond tip screwdriver.

The footsteps came closer to the door above me and I scrambled back across the room. Making my best attempt to lie on bed as I was before.

The door opened slowly.

He descended, silently. His body covered in leather. His face hidden behind a mask.

He said softly. "It's time."

Everything in me screamed to run. To get away. But I had to bide my time. Had to wait for the perfect moment.

"You can beg if you like. The others begged too. Just like her. But they never escaped reaping the consequences of their sins."

This man wanted to see me cower, needed to see my fear. It was reflected in his eyes. It exited him. Giving into my fear would only build his strength.

I forced myself to look directly into those empty eyes. "Your pathetic. Do you know that? Is this the only way you know how to be a man? By terrorizing people?"

His body tensed. "I'm more of a man than you could ever handle. More of a man than your disgusting lover. After I'm through with you. I'm going have to punish him too. He won't break away from his sin either."

I wanted to kill him. Wanted him erased from my life. Just wanted him dead. I was blind to nothing but that wanting. Rage swamped me. How dare he? How dare he threaten Gabriel?

"You're not a man," I taunted. "You're a worm. A coward. I bet you can't get it up for regular people can you?" I pointed to his crotch. "You're not normal, you're a freak." Okay^Å. Blue, wasn't he tied up? Bound? How does he point without the guy knowing he is no longer tied up? I'm a little confused^Å^Å.

"Whore! Shut up!" he growled, his knuckles growing white as he gripped the knife. "You let any dick inside you. Why would I want you?"

"It's not me. It's you. You're not normal. You're a freak. An animal. Don't blame me because you a half-man." I clutched the screwdriver like a talisman. A symbol of hope.

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" His face mottled with rage, spittle coming out of his mouth as his control snapped. He lunged at me, wildly swinging the knife, the blade hissing through the air.

Heart pounding, I extracted the screwdriver from behind my back. I drew back and slashed. I put every ounce of strength I had behind my arm. A scream tore from my throat as the screwdriver sank into his throat.

His hands flailed. I slashed again. He shrieked as I plugged it into his eye.

"Motherfucker!"

I drew back and attacked again. He grabbed at me, slicing my upper arm but too late to stop my strike. I stabbed him in the chest brutally. He instinctively let go of me to grab his wound and I pushed him away, pulling my weapon free.

Knowing I had but a second to flee, I sprinted toward the staircase. I made it half way when he grabbed me from behind, his hand latching onto my leg. I went down hard. My chin knocking against the steps. My teeth rattled. I couldn't give up, wouldn't give up when I was so close.

I kicked out almost blindly. My legs slamming his fingers against the wood. Splintering it. He shrieked in pain. He let go of my leg and I kick again, this time connecting with his head. He snapped back and began to slam down the stairs.

I heard a snap, a sharp cracking sound. I looked down to see him lying at the bottom of the stairs. His neck was twisted at an impossible angle.

I scrambled up the stairs, not losing any momentum. I had to get out. Had to leave.

In a panic I search through the house. Trying to find a phone. Anything to get Gabriel there to me. It was in plain sight, in the kitchen.

I grabbed for it. Running out the door, I searched around the area but I was in the middle of nowhere. Knowing I couldn't go too far before a cordless phone chipped out. I hid behind a tree, just on the outside of house.

With shaking hands I tried to dial the number but I couldn't remember it. "Damn, Damn." I cursed.

I tried again. This time it did ring. "Hello."

"Ga-bri-el." I whispered on the phone.

There was silence of a second, and then cracked voice said. "Connor?"

I nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see me. "Yes."

"Connor, baby, where are you? Are you okay?"

"Mmmm, Gabriel. I hurt."

"OH God, honey."

I sat down on crisp grass, pulling my knees to my chest, and resting my tired head against them. "I want you here, Gabriel. I want you here now."

"Baby, you have to tell where you are first."

"I don't know." I mumbled, closing my eyes. "I don't know."

"The man who took you, where is he Connor?"

I shiver with the memory. "He..s at the bottom of the stairs. H..iii..sss His head," I choked back a sob. Then I couldn't hear his voice anymore. I needed to hear his voice, I thought hysterically. "Gabriel?" I cried.

"I'm right here Connor. I coming for you okay. I'll be there soon." He soothed. "Can you tell me what it looks like around you? Anything at all?"

I glanced around. "There's only a cabin. I don't see anything else but trees."

I closed my eyes again and began to drift, listening to Gabriel talk to me.

"Connor!" He shouted snapping me back into reality. "Connor, can you hear me. Answer me Dammit!"

"Mmm, I'm here."

"Don't go to sleep, do you hear me honey, don't go to sleep. Can you do that for me? Please. Keep your eyes open."

"I hurt, Gabriel."

"I know, honey, but I'm coming. Just hold on for a little while. I'm coming."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gabriel's POV

I had never been so close to fainting any other time, than when I first heard Connor's voice on the line. But of course I couldn't give into relief. I had to stay alert. Connor needed me.

I continued to whisper to him as we made our way to a cabin just outside St. Catherine's. It had taken ten agonizing minutes to locate him through the police-tracking device.

He'd stopped talking five minutes ago, which was driving me insane with worry but he continued to make grunting noises when I called his name or murmured non-commentarial. I whispered my love to him. Talking to him of our future. Of our life together. Anything that would give him the strength to stay awake.

When we arrived police officers swarmed the cabin, but my sole focus was Connor.

"Baby, I'm here, can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Here." His raspy, weak voice called out.

I ran in the direction of his voice. The sight of him made my heartbeat flutter. He was curled into himself. Blood streaked his naked body. Oh God. Tears leaked down my cheeks. What had he done to him?

I approached him cautiously. Bending down to his level. "Connor baby, I'm here now. Can you hear me? I've got you now. You're safe, Connor."

I was afraid to touch him, not sure of severity of his injures.

He raised his head, and blinked several times. "Gabriel." He breathed out. "I knew you'd come for me." As if he'd been staying conscious just to say that, he passed out. His body going slack.

The paramedics were on him then. I watched with horror in my heart as they examined him.

Seconds later, we were in the ambulance, on our way to the nearest hospital. Minutes went by, and it seemed like hours. "Is he going to be okay?"

One of the paramedics looked up, "There doesn't seem to be any fatal injuries. He's just in shock." Uhmmm, if they were FATAL injuries ^Å.. he'd be DEAD. So^Å maybe "life threatening" okay??

That news should have made me breathe easier, but still I was on edge.

I couldn't believe I'd found him. Now with my hand clutching his tightly, I swore I'd never leave him. But he was so cold. So cold it frightened me.

My eyes cataloged every cut, every bruise that marred his beautiful skin. I shuddered with revulsion when I thought of how he must have received them.

"Hold on, honey, your safe now." I whispered to him. "I'm here."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gabriel's POV

I pulled my dirty shirt over my head as I entered the house. So many changes had occurred in such a short period; has it really been three weeks since that night? I rubbed a hand down my haggard face. Physically Connor wasn't badly hurt. There were some cuts on his arm that required stitches. A plastic surgeon had repaired the damage on his face. He assured me that in a few months, there would be no sign of a scar. The slashes on his chest had been the worst. The doctors had been afraid it would get infected. But he'd been released from the hospital within 48hrs.

No Connor wasn't physically hurt. But as the weeks passed I died a little more each day as I watched as he drifted through life instead of actually living, floating in a protective bubble that I could not penetrate and that only grew more impregnable whenever I tried to break through.

I kept believing he would pull out of the despair that engulfed him, as well as a kind of apathy, as though he simply had no more interest in the world and was merely waiting for everything to fall apart.

Along with growing more dejected mentally, he seemed to decline physically. He had little, to no appetite, and though I was constantly trying to feed him, he only picked at his food.

Helplessly, I watched him, keeping a close eye, but feeling completely useless.

Keira was home again. She as well as his father seemed to be the only light in my and his life. He spent countless hours just watching them. Guarding them like an angel. His father had regained consciousness last week. Though he was still weak, his prognosis was good. We'd decided not to talk to him about the attack, until he was stronger.

He wouldn't let me touch him. He slept in the guest room. Every time I came near, he'd flinch away. It shattered my heart every time I saw fear in the eyes, which had once shined with love for me.

Whenever I tried to talk to him about going to see a doctor, he told me he was fine and then gave me that wan smile that made me feel as if my heart was permanently cracked.

He'd done this to him. Vincent Chambers.

A search of his house had shown he'd been stalking Connor for months. Photos, stolen boxers, flowers, and candles had been found in his closet, ordered perfectly. Like a twisted shine to Connor.

The police had also found his journal, documenting his obsession with both women and men over the years. The physiological profiler I had talked to said for Chambers his motivation hadn't been sex it was power. He wanted control over his victims. Control that he lacked in some part of his life, stemming from something to do with the woman's portrait that hung over his bed, shredded.

I learned everything I could about his attacker, hoping that one-day Connor would want to know and I would have the answers. But he never did

What scared me the most was that he hadn't cried. He hadn't shed a single tear for the injustices done to him. Deep down inside I knew there was something else. Guilt. He felt guilt for taking a life. For going to level of the creature that'd attacked him.

Keira was away at her ballet lessons at the community center, so I didn't feel the need to keep up the happy facade. I knew she sensed something bad happened, but we tried our best to make her life as normal as possible.

The days after the incident, I had needed my lifeline, so I reached out to Elaine. She had always been my rock. She never failed to ease my mind. To guide me in the right direction.

"Give him time, Gabriel." She told me. "Lend him your strength, he'll come around when he's ready."

I stood by the window, and watched as the sun went down over the water. It was Friday. Keira would be spending the weekend with Elaine and Derek. She'd attached herself to Tommy the moment she saw him. She talked about him constantly. Giggling and whispering her praise of him. To her he was like a God who could do no wrong. I think she had her first crush.

A smile curved on my lips, when I thought of how she'd announced to a frazzled Tommy, that she was going to marry him. He'd blushed until, his ears has been beet red.

A scream penetrated my reverie. Dread shot through me as I raced in the kitchen.

He stood by the cutting board. Sliced tomatoes lined the counter. Blood was dripping on his hand.

I went to him instantly, grabbing a dishcloth, and pressing it to his wound. "Baby, are you okay?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Connor's POV

Blood dripped down my hands. Visions assailed. I saw his face. His blood. It was on my hand. He was dead, and his blood was on my hand. It was the final straw. "Get it off me!" I cried, rubbing it down on my shirt. I felt the wet substance on my skin, I yanked at my shirt, sobbing. "Please...I can't..." The soft cotton fabric simply stretched beneath my panicked hands, and I lost whatever calm distance I'd had. I was there, in the past, covered with a dead man's blood, and if I didn't get it off I was going to explode.

"Calm down," he said, reaching for the hem of my shirt and yanking it over my head exposing my chest, the streaks of blood on my pale skin.

He swore. I was past the point of speech, yanking at my clothes as I gasped for breath, and he simply picked me up, carried me through the kitchen, up the stairs, into the bathroom. It was instantly flooded with bright light, illuminating my skin. He put me into the shower, half-dressed, and turned it on full force, getting in with me as the hot water blasted down on both of us.

He stripped off the rest of my clothes, quickly, efficiently, taking the soap and washing me, as I stood there frozen, shivering beneath the steamy downpour. His hands were fast, rough covering my body.

He pulled off his own clothes, keeping a steady arm around me as he did so.

I grabbed the soap from him and scrubbed my body, desperate to wash any trace of blood away, desperate for it all to be washed away...

"Enough," he said, taking my hand, making me drop the soap onto the tiled floor of the shower, pulling me against him under the full force of the shower, his body pressed to mine, wet and naked, the both of us.

I needed it to go away, all of it. The water wasn't enough, the soap couldn't banish it. I needed more, and his erection against my belly was proof that he did, too. I needed him. Needed the oblivion.

I reached down and touched him, and he jerked in my hand, big and heavy, engorged with the same need that swamped me.

I looked up at him through the heavy downpour of the shower. "Please," I whipered, letting my fingers slip down the solid ridge of his cock. "I need..."

"I know," he said.

He didn't turn off the shower. He simply picked me up, and carried into the darkened bedroom, laying me down on the bed, following me, covering me, pushing inside me before I could even catch my breath.

It stung, but I didn't care. I didn't want to breathe. To think. I just wanted this, hard and fast and deep, and I came almost immediately, hard, my entire body clenching with the force of it.

It didn't take him long either. I was still shivering around him when I felt his cock thicken and jerk inside me, and his climax began. Hot, wet life filling me, driving away death and darkness.

I must have made some sort of noise, because he covered my mouth with his hand, silencing me. I welcomed it, letting go of the very last of my strength, sobbing against the hard flesh of his fingers, until there was nothing left of me, nothing at all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Connor's POV

I didn't need to open my eyes when I woke up to know he was awake. I felt him watching me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, knowing I was awake.

"I thought he'd tainted everything I touched, Gabriel. I couldn't make love to you. I was afraid it wouldn't be the same. That I would see his face."

"And now?"

I opened my eyes, and turned my head so I could look at his face. "I know he doesn't have that power." I smiled at him and whispered. "Hey."

Tears shined in his eyes. "Hey, baby."

"I missed you."

He touched my cheek. "I missed you more." He said. "I've been worried you wouldn't come back to me."

I rubbed my face against his hand. "I think I'm going to need help Gabriel." I confessed. "I've never felt that kind of anger before, that kind of thirst for blood. I wanted him dead. I did everything in my power to hurt him. I almost turned into him."

He smiled gently at me. "No, honey, your were protecting yourself. You're not to blame for his actions. You have nothing to feel guilty about, do you hear me?"

"I know that here." I said tapping to my head. "But in my heart, I can still see his face. His blood is on my hands."

He clutched me to him, pulling him on top of me, wrapping his arms around me. "He was a monster, he deserved to die. I wish I could have done it. Wish I could have protected you."

He ran his hand down my back. "I can take care of myself."

I smiled as he threw his words back at me.

He kissed my eyelids. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

To be continued......

Next: Chapter 21


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