Page 74 of Eternal Light

Sobbing, Nix shakes his head.

He’s finally got his pants down under his bum, but he’s frustrated by his position and the small confines of the back seat. “Please, help.”

So Jay does what he’s going to do every time he’s asked: he helps, lifting Nix straight up, heedless of his aching shoulder and Leo’s frown. Nix gets one leg out and, without further preamble, holds Jay’s cock up so he can slide down.

“Mine, mine, mine…” Nix is chanting between hitching cries.

Jay can’t deny the piercing pleasure he feels when he’s finally at home inside his beloved. Expecting a fierce, angry ride once he’s slid home, instead, Nix just collapses on his chest. “Baby boy.”

“I thought you d-died,” he stutters out, dropping his forehead onto Jay’s sore shoulder so he can rub his nose along the collar of Jay’s borrowed scrubs. They must smell of the hospital, the surgical sutures—maybe even the gunpowder or burnt flesh.

Leo’s raised eyebrow in the rearview mirror is another eloquentI told you so.Jay would be a lot more inclined to think Leo was angry all over again if he didn’t have tears in his eyes.

“You died. Goddess, you died. You told me you wouldn’t leave me, and you did,” he whispers, clenching down to hold Jay’s flagging erection deeper, like he wants to take as much of Jay inside as he can—to keep him there, safe forever.

The other back door opens, and Luca crawls across the seat, pulling Gideon in behind them. Gideon gets the rear door closed so that any passersby won’t see them. His first mate is crying, too, and when he picks up Jay’s hand, he pulls it up so Jay can cup his cheek.

“Hey, baby.”

“Don’tHey, babyme.”

“I’m sorry.” He’ll say it every day for the rest of his life.

“We’re sorry,” Gideon says, running his hand over Nix’s hair, wiping away the tears still freely flowing down his cheek.

Bound in this like they are in everything these days, Luca takes Nix’s hand in his. “We don’t want apologies. We want you to never, ever die again.”

Leo huffs at the weird wording, even though the sentiment is clear. He wisely doesn’t point it out.

Nix takes Jay’s face between his palms.

Jay can’t look away.

“Jamie, you scared me.” He swallows harshly, his voice as deep as Jay has ever heard it. “I wanted to die, too. It hurt so bad.”

“Nix, you always have to live, no matter what—even if…” Jay says, because Nix has more to live for than just him.

But Nix shakes his head—that is to say, he shakes Jay’s head.

“You say that, and I know I do. I have so much, but if you aren’t here, then I can’t…I can’t face it. Okay? I don’t know how to make you understand, but I lived without you for a long time, and I didn’t like it. I don’t want to do it again. I won’t—you can’t make me!”

His voice rises at the end, as if he’s going to start up again. He’s shaking, and the vibrations are translating to where they’re still joined.

“Okay, okay. I won’t…it’ll be okay,” Jay soothes.

But Nix isn’t having it so easily. “Don’t you remember what it felt like to think I was gone forever?”

Jay certainly does. He still lives with the fear of that pain every single day; every minute Nix is out of his sight, Jay remembers what it was like to live without him.

The minutes in the middle of the night where he wakes in a cold sweat, fearing the past six months were a dream—and part of his heart is still gone forever.

Even now, the memories are so close to the surface that his heart pounds loudly in his ears.

He wants to tell them that he was protecting them—that he wanted to shift the danger Carnell represents away from the most important things in his life—but none of it makes good sense when Nix puts it like that.

Life is worth living, and as terrible as it sounds, it’s only worth it if they’re all together.

“I do. I’m sorry, Nix. I’m so sorry,” Jay whispers, cupping Nix’s cheek. He hopes his sincerity and remorse are reflected in his face—that Nix can read his heart and his mind.