I hate people pointing out my weaknesses; maybe that’s the Dominant within me. Then again, maybe that’s just part of being a man. We’re supposed to be the stronger of the species. We should protect and cherish what’s ours. But Macey isn’t mine. In fact, she wants nothing to do with the man I’ve become, which is a harsh fucking wake-up call.
All this time, my goal has been to prove to myself that I can enjoy some carnal pleasures with the girl from my past who once gutted me. Yet, achieving that goal has provided me with zero pleasure. Well, that’s not entirely true. Seeing Macey naked and bound in my playroom was pretty fucking awesome. But I fucked it up. All this time, my goal has been about protecting myself. Oliver was right.
Fuck.
A real Dominant isn’t concerned with his own needs. He puts his partner’s well-being and satisfaction above his own. I never did that with Macey. I was so worried about getting hurt again, I closed myself off. She was right—I treated her like any other sub, only worse.
Hitting the red Stop button, I step off the treadmill and fight to catch my breath. I grab my hand towel and use it to mop up the damp sweat on the back of my neck. Color flashes in my vision. She’s everywhere it seems. Marked on my body for all of eternity.
Glancing down at the blood-red rose tattooed on my forearm, I know what I need to do.
I grab my phone and dial Hale. “Hey, man, I’m sorry, can we talk?” I say without taking a breath. At least he answered. It’s a start. I hope.
“Not now.” His tone is clipped.
He’s going to make me grovel, and damn, I’m all too willing to do it. “I said I’m sorry, dude. I want to talk to you about—”
“It’s Nana. She’s in the hospital. She’s been in ICU for two days . . .” His voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.
He doesn’t have to. Nana is like a second mother to him and Macey. The only family they have left in this world.
“Which hospital? I’m on my way.”
• • •
Running down the hospital corridor, I nearly plow into a parked wheelchair. Geez, take a breath. I slow myself down enough to read on the sign that the intensive care unit is on the sixth floor. Jabbing the button for the elevator repeatedly, I shift my weight from foot to foot, wondering if the stairs would be any faster.
Finally the elevator car arrives and delivers me to the sixth floor. There’s a private waiting room for family with someone in the ICU, which is a good thing, because I realize I don’t know Nana’s first or last name when I check in at the reception desk. I head down the too-quiet hallway and enter the waiting room at the end of the hall. It’s there I find Macey, alone and slumped in a plastic chair.
“Pancake?”
Her head lifts from its resting place on her arm, and her eyes are red and watery. She looks like hell, and something inside me clenches. “What are you doing here?” she asks, blinking up at me.
I cross the room in three long strides and draw her up into my arms. I pull her in firmly against my chest, and given our height difference, her feet dangle inches from the floor. For a second there, I think she might fight me, but instead she collapses against my chest, burrowing her face against my neck, and lets me hold her. It feels like coming home, as if this was the missing piece the entire last six years. But I don’t let myself focus on that for long.
“How is she?” I ask.
Macey sniffles and lifts her head from the warm spot she’s claimed as her own. “She’s eighty years old. They’re trying to prepare us for the worst.”
“Christ.” It’s worse than I thought. “Any news on what happened?”
She nods. “They think it was a stroke. Right now, she’s in a sleep-induced coma while they try to figure out what kind of damage the stroke may have caused.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I tug her toward me again, and her warm body forms to mine. She makes a small murmuring sound of appreciation. “Have you seen her yet?”
“Yes, and there are so many machines and tubes, I almost fainted. It’s horrible seeing her that way.”
“I’m here now. I’ve got you.” I ease us down onto the loveseat and continue holding her hand. “Why are you here alone? If I’d known . . .”
“Cameron and Brie went to the café to get more coffee. He sucks at just sitting here.”
“I see.”
Macey and I make small talk about inconsequential things like the weather and her new apartment. She tells me that she interviewed for a great job at a news station, then fills me in on the snafu when they first arrived at the hospital. The well-meaning hospital staff weren’t going to let Hale and Macey see her. They have some immediate-family-only rule. But you don’t come between an alpha male and his nana. Hale now has the nurses providing regular updates and extra-attentive care to Nana. Thank God.
I just listen and nod and let Macey talk, sensing it’s therapeutic for her. Sitting in silence when you’ve received bad news only makes your head churn with possibilities, most of which are negative.
Hale and Brielle soon return with steaming paper cups of coffee in hand. They hand one to Macey, who shakes her head. She slumps against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Hale lifts an eyebrow in my direction, but doesn’t say anything.
Being here with Macey, taking care of her this way, sparks a thousand memories. Watching her eyes fill with tears as she blinks them back and tries to be strong, reminds me of not so long ago when she and Hale got the devastating phone call that no one should ever have to get. I held her through the hurt and the tears, and when her tears dried up weeks later, I’d grown accustomed to having her in my arms, to being the one to quiet her fears, and tell her everything would be okay. It seemed natural that our relationship would evolve from there.