Feeling the other man’s agony and knowing that he was the cause of it, knowing that he was hurting the person he cared for more than anyone else in the world was horrible. In fact, it was too fucking much.
Paul opened his eyes again. Laurent was no longer standing. He was huddled on the floor like a wounded animal, his face was a mask of silent agony, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Laurent…babe…” Paul couldn’t stand. He crawled over to the other man and took him in his arms. “Can’t do this. Can’t fucking do it.”
“Then don’t. Just…don’t, please, mon amour.” Laurent buried his face in Paul’s shoulder and Paul pulled him closer. Wrapping his arms around Laurent’s waist, he held on tight.
Being close helped and gradually the ache began to ease. It was as though he had loosened the golden tree’s roots but they were slowly repairing themselves and sinking into the soil of his heart again. Paul didn’t know how long they held each other but inside he was making a silent promise—a vow to himself and Laurent. Not going to try that again. It’s too much, too bad. Don’t want to lose you that way.
“Paul?”
Laurent’s soft voice made him look down at the man in his arms. “Yeah, babe?”
“Do you mean that? Truly? You will leave the bond intact and you won’t try to break it again?” Paul nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would be so bad. So…so final.”
“Nana did warn us.” Laurent sat up but made no move to get out of his lap. “Are you staying with me only because it hurts too much to leave?”
“Not just that,” Paul told him. “It’s… I don’t want you out of my life. The holy virgin knows what the fuck we’re going to do but whatever it is, it’ll have to be together.”
“I love you.” Laurent kissed him, a sweet, tender kiss that sent waves of love and desire washing over him. “So much, Paul. So very much.”
“Ah Laurent…” He didn’t know what to say. Telling another guy he loved him, even though he did, was still way past his comfort level.
You do not have to say it. I feel what you feel. Laurent kissed him again and then smiled. “Well then, we must plan for our future. What shall we do?”
“Good fucking question.” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose hard, trying to push back the tension headache that was trying to form behind his eyes. “I think it’s safe to say our old way of life is out. Mine is, anyway. I can’t go back to the pack like this and I can’t imagine I’ll be welcome at the Chop Shop either—not after the old man sees your marks.”
“I was hoping that you allowed me to mark you so because you intended to keep the bond intact.” Laurent stroked Paul’s throat, sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine.
“Hell, maybe I was, I don’t know. I sure as fuck didn’t know it at the time though.”
“Maybe you knew it with your heart, even if you didn’t with your mind.” Laurent smiled at him. “My old life must end as well. My parents will never accept you as my choice of partner.”
“Are you sure you want to do that—give it all up?” Paul looked at him uncertainly.
“I mean, I’ll be losing my place in the pack, which sucks, but I can deal with it. And as for working for my old man, well, it’s time for me to get out on my own anyway. But you…all your connections, your money, your, uh, throne.”
“I was to be a viscount, not a prince. And know this, Paul, I will gladly give it up— all of it.” Laurent stroked his cheek. “You are all that matters to me now. My title and lands and fortune…they’re all empty without you.”
“Glad you feel that way. I don’t exactly think I’d fit in at the vampire court.”
“About as well as I would fit in with your pack,” Laurent said dryly. “So then, the question remains: where shall we go and what shall we do?”
Paul shrugged. “Well, we can’t stay in Miami or anywhere near the pack. You don’t leave the Locas voluntarily. You’re in it for life until you die or get busted out. So we have to go somewhere else—a different state. Hell, maybe a whole different fucking country.” “Somewhere no one will care who we are and what we mean to each other.”
Laurent sounded thoughtful. “I have heard that the western coast of your country is more tolerant. California, perhaps?”
Paul nodded. “Sure, why the fuck not? It’ll be tough at first but I have a little money saved. I can work at another bike shop somewhere and save up to get my own place.
Maybe you can teach or something.”
“I had thought of that…when I allowed myself to hope that we would stay together.” Laurent kissed him and smiled. “I have a little money too, in a Swiss bank account that my father can’t touch. It may take me awhile to access it but in the meantime we can sell the car. That should give us enough to live on while we get things sorted out.”