Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Sean looked at him.

Max held his gaze. “I don’t want to lead you on.”

Sean stilled and frowned deeper. “What exactly are you saying?”

“That we need to stop kidding ourselves. And stop. Just fucking stop.”

“But—”

“Last night should never have happened, and it can’t happen again. But it will. It’ll happen again, if I’m around you. And I’m just—I’m not okay with that. It’s my hard limit, Sean.”

Sean searched his face. “So after finals are over… and your art show is done?”

Max clenched his teeth. Shook his head. “I won’t be calling.”

Please. Just go. Before I lose my fucking mind.

Sean swallowed, features pinching. His fists clenched at his sides. “Okay,” he rasped. “Okay.” He eyed the door, then looked back. “You asked me last night to take your heart when I left… You still want me to take it?”

Yes. God, yes.

Max smiled sadly. “Please.”

“Okay.” Sean nodded.

But as he turned and walked out, the ache didn’t go away. It got worse.

THIRTY-FIVE

“So you’re ready? Feeling good about exams this week?” Scott shoved the final piece of workout equipment off to the side, then pulled some mats from a pile onto the floor.

Tad rolled his shoulders, watching him. He’d been studying so much for the past couple of weeks, it felt like the shit was coming out his ears. “Yeah. Good God. I just wanna get ‘em over with.”

Scott motioned for Tad to join him in the center of the room. “Those tests aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

“That’s right.” Tad feigned some air punches.

Scott laughed. “Come here.”

Tad smiled and dropped his arms. “You sure you wanna dig into our weekend time doing this? I’ve only got one more week of night classes. Maybe this isn’t really necessary.”

Scott sobered. “Unfortunately, it’ll always be necessary.”

Tad’s smile faded as he walked over. “Okay, boss. If you say so.”

Scott nodded and cupped Tad’s face, eyeing his battle wounds. It’d been nearly a week since those fuckers had jumped Tad. But even though the bruises and cuts were healing nicely, the scars below the skin still lingered. For both Tad and Scott. Tad could see it in Scott’s gaze. This incident had really shaken him. Knocked him on his ass. And just like Tad, he too was still recovering.

Something that made Tad suspect that these sessions were for Scott’s benefit as much as they were for Tad’s. Peace of mind and all that. Which Tad could appreciate. Otherwise, Scott would worry himself to insanity—and drag Tad’s ass right along with him.

Not that Tad would resist. He’d follow Scott anywhere.

Scott sighed and squeezed Tad’s shoulders. “Okay, babe. Let’s do this.”

Tad nodded as Scott stepped back. “Teach me, Sire, to kick ass.”

“To defend yourself.”

“Right. That.”

Scott smirked and gripped his hips, then got busy talking. “Self-defense is different from fighting because its purpose is different. And that’s because in most cases the setting is different. In typical fights, guys just wanna mess each other up. Draw first blood. Come out the victor. Feel like a tough guy for a while.

“But then there’s the entirely different ballgame of hate crimes.” Scott frowned. “And they are not your typical fight, because those come with much more malicious intent. To punish. To maim. And sometimes to kill. So, in those situations, there is no room to mess around. They should always be viewed as a life-or-death situation. Anything less could cost a person their life.”

Tad’s blood chilled a little, thinking back to Monday night. If Chad and his friend hadn’t shown up, could that have been his fate? Unsettled, he crossed his arms. Because in thinking about it, Scott was right. There’d been a seething hate in his attackers’ eyes that night. Hell, at one point they’d all but come out and said that they planned on beating him to within an inch of his life. Jesus. Tad swallowed and eyed Scott questioningly.

As if reading his mind, Scott exhaled with a nod. “With more than one assailant involved, things get out of hand quick.” He dragged a hand down his face. “And you’ve got a smart mouth. That definitely wouldn’t’ve fared well for you, either.”

Tad winced and rubbed his neck.

Scott leveled him with a look. One he’d already given Tad earlier that week. Specifically, Tuesday night after Scott’s hot little medical exam, when the situation came full circle and things turned serious again. Scott had urged Tad to press charges, but the thought made Tad twitchy. He just wanted to move past it, forget it happened. Which Scott wasn’t happy about. And thus “the look” was born, the very one Scott was giving Tad now.

Scott shook his head. “Anyway. My point is that you need to know how to drop a guy fast. How to put him out of commission so he doesn’t get up. Because once you land a hit—and you’ll have to if you want to walk away intact—they’re suddenly gonna wanna hurt you ten times worse.”