Rack & Ruin (THIRDS 3)

“You realize it’s not even 10 a.m., and you’ve had….” Dex’s gaze went to the three empty bottles on the floor. Fuck. Okay. Dex stood and swiped the bottle from Ash.

“What the fuck?” Ash got to his feet, looming over Dex who scrunched his nose and waved a hand in front of his face.

“You fucking reek.” He handed the bottle to Sloane who was looking on anxiously. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get your stank ass off my couch, take a shower, put on pants that A, do not contain an elastic band, and B, are thick enough to hide the fact you go commando, because frankly, some of us don’t want to know.” Dex let out a shudder, then grabbed Ash’s arm and started hauling him toward the stairs. “Come on. Don’t do this to yourself. You know you can hang with us as long as you want, but you can’t go all hobo on us. Cael’s dealing with it. You need to do the same.”

Ash stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “He’s not dealing with it. He’s pretending to.”

“Well, you’ve not really given him much of a choice. How’d you feel if he was doing what you’re doing? Drinking and wallowing in his own misery.”

“Shitty,” Ash muttered.

“That’s right. So hit the showers.”

With a heavy sigh, Ash headed upstairs.

Dex turned to find Sloane gaping at him. “What?”

“He didn’t tell you to fuck off or threaten to punch you.”

“I know!” Dex threw his arms up. “You see why I’m worried?” He never thought he’d see the day where he actually wanted Ash to be an asshole to him.

“You’re right,” Sloane sighed and pulled Dex into his arms. He let his head rest on Dex’s. “But there’s nothing we can do. The only one who can do anything about this is Ash.”

Ash padded back down, a pathetic pout on his face. “My bag’s in my truck.”

“Relax, big guy.” Dex headed for the front door. “I’ll get it.” Sloane caught up to him and swiped the keys from him. He gave Dex a kiss.

“I’ll get it. I need to get my backpack from my car anyway.” He ran a hand down Dex’s back until he got to his ass and gave it a squeeze. “How about when I get back, we get into bed for a little post-birthday-party party?”

Dex moaned against Sloane’s lips. God, he was such a lost cause. Sloane had him wrapped around his little finger, and Dex loved it. “Okay.”

“You two make me sick,” Ash called out, followed by, “The alarm’s on.”

Sloane held up Ash’s keys. “Got it.” He gave Dex a wink and headed outside, closing the door behind him.

Dex was feeling all swoony. He couldn’t wait to get back into bed with Sloane. He picked the beer bottles off the living room floor and carried them into the kitchen. He had just dropped them into the recycling bin when an explosion rocked the foundation of Dex’s house, causing the front window to shatter. Dex ducked behind the counter on instinct, for a moment thinking the place was going to come crashing down around him. He heard footsteps thudding

down the stairs and stood to find Ash staring at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know. Sounded like an explosion out—” Dex’s world came crashing down around him. No, please. “Sloane!” He bolted for the front door, not caring what dangers might be on the other side. All he could think about was getting to Sloane. He had to make sure he was all right. He prayed with all his might. Sloane had to be okay.

“Dex, wait!”

Dex threw the door open and was met with clouds of thick black smoke. The sidewalk in front of his house looked like a war zone, littered with debris and pieces of mangled car parts. The leaves of the tree out front were ablaze, and Dex coughed as he ran down the steps into the smoke. “Sloane!” Where the hell was he? Dex reached the sidewalk when Ash yelled from somewhere behind him.

“Dex, get down!”

Something hard slammed into Dex, the force knocking him to the ground and stealing the air from his lungs. His painful cry was drowned out by a harsh, agonized growl, and it took Dex a second to realize it had come from Ash. He didn’t know why the hell Ash was on him, but he had to get himself free. Dex pushed against the cold pavement, but Ash’s weight had him pinned. The familiar pings of bullets ricocheting around them echoed in Dex’s ears. His eyes stung and his lungs burned. The smoke and dust swirling in the autumn breeze made it hard to see and breathe. He lifted his head and spotted a dark lump under a piece of mangled door.

“Sloane!” Dex pushed against the ground, screaming at Ash to get off. Tears sprang in his eyes and ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision. His chest hurt but no more than his heart. “Ash, get off! Sloane!” Why wouldn’t Ash let him go? Dex was briefly aware of sparks bursting around them, and only then did it occur to him they were being shot at. Ash dragged Dex with him, succeeding despite Dex fighting him every step of the way. He clawed and struggled, but Ash’s iron grip never faltered, and Dex found himself shoved up against a parked car with Ash huddled over him. Dex tried to push, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. His hand felt wet, and he stared dumbly at it. It was covered in blood. He dropped his gaze to find blood seeping from the gauze covering Ash’s healing stitches.

The wailing of sirens intensified, and Dex watched in horror as a flurry of uniformed bodies rushed onto the scene. Firefighters assessed the situation before lifting the truck’s door off Sloane. There was blood everywhere, and he wasn’t moving. Dex could barely see through his tears as the EMTs turned Sloane over. His skin was smudged black and red from smoke and blood. Then Dex caught sight of the jagged piece of metal jutting out of Sloane’s side. An anguished cry tore through Dex, and Ash pulled him hard against him, thick biceps smothering him while a hand went to the back of Dex’s head to keep him from going anywhere.

EMTs cut through Sloane’s shirt before starting CPR and chest compressions. An oxygen mask was applied, and they swiftly lifted Sloane onto a gurney. They were taking him away. No. They couldn’t take Sloane without him. Dex tried to push against Ash, but he was exhausted, his world darkening around him. He buried his face against Ash’s chest and clung to him, his heart breaking in two as he surrendered to his grief. How could this be happening? Then it struck him.

“It should have been me.”