Page 50 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

Vincent swallowed hard, his mouth and throat still terribly dry as he shut the door behind him, keeping his eyes on the human the entire time as he made his way over to the unmade bed.

Normally that sort of thing would have bothered him, but just being able to see his beautiful human, truly see him with his own eyes and not in a fever dream or through the walls of the mental prison he had been trapped in, was enough to make him swear off bed-making forever if it meant getting to stare at that face just a little longer.

The fluttering in his gut hummed, vibrating against a heart that should be barely beating, but those wings tickled the muscle to life, making it thump with reckless abandon. The rusty cage around his heart was gone.

Vincent ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back as he realized he had no idea how disheveled he looked as he sat down on his bed.

He lowered his eyes, wondering if he was staring too much.

He didn’t need to freak the man out. Stay calm.

Ask for forgiveness. Beg. Anything to make this stop. “Adam, I’m so sorry—”

The words were knocked out of him as his human half-crawled, half-threw himself across the bed, wrapping his arms around Vincent, forcing him back on the bed awkwardly.

Adam buried his face against Vincent’s chest, a muffled, stuttered sob coming from him as his grip tightened.

Vincent stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he was imagining the whole thing.

This was not in the realm of reactions he was expecting upon seeing the man, and the way it warmed his blood made him wary of trusting it.

“I-I-I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” Adam stuttered against his chest.

His dream was right in some way. Adam was a flame, melting Vincent beneath him. Vincent wrapped his arms around Adam. “It takes more than that to kill me,” Vincent whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Adam let out a shaky breath, his arms still wrapped tightly around Vincent. The sound of his heartbeat filled Vincent’s ears, a soothing rhythm that made him feel like he was home. Actually home. Vincent wanted to protect that feeling, to keep this man close and never let go.

Slowly pulling away from the warmth, Vincent looked down at him with a mix of affection and guilt. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, running a hand through Adam’s hair. “For everything. It’s all my fault.”

Adam shook his head, his eyes glassy with tears. “No, it’s not. I should have been more careful.”

Vincent shook his head, resisting the urge to squeeze the man even tighter so he wouldn’t hurt him. “I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight,” he whispered. “I should have fought harder. I should have been able to fight it like you did.”

Adam let out a small, sad laugh. “Don’t think like that.

About what you should have done. You can’t go back and make the outcome different,” he said, one of his fingers circling one of the buttons on Vincent’s dress shirt.

“It doesn’t make things better going down that path, only worse.

No one died last night. It’s a new day. That’s all that matters. ”

A pang of sadness slammed into Vincent as he realized Adam was speaking from a well of experience he had never really bothered to consider. Adam was a recovering addict. Of course, he knew all about dealing with unique morning-after guilt. But…“It’s not that simple, I’m a—”

“It is that simple,” Adam said sternly, looking up at him. “You ran into that guy too, right? Richard? He did something to me. Messed with my head. I was drowning, like I was going to die any second, and it felt like it was going to last forever.”

Vincent nodded grimly, stroking the soft hair.

“I encountered him before the brothers brought you back. He made me—” Vincent didn’t want to say it.

It wasn’t just admitting that someone had managed to surprise him like that.

It was admitting that that was exactly how he had been before.

“He reminded me of who I once was, and that old part took over.”

Adam rested his chin on Vincent’s chest, lowering his eyes. “Has something like that ever happened before?”

“No. I’ve never even heard of one of us being able to use that kind of influence on another vampire. It’s always just been humans. I never would have let him get close enough to try it if I had any idea it was possible, but I didn’t even know he was there,” Vincent admitted.

I’ve turned his life upside down because I couldn’t decide who I was after all this time.

It’s not right. I’ve used him.

“What are you going to do? About him? Do you think he’ll come back?” Adam asked softly.

“He’ll be back. He’ll want to see the results of what he did.

I’ll be ready for him then,” Vincent said, barely any feeling behind the words.

Vincent couldn’t summon the usual anger and passion that came with that sort of statement, not with the sinking feeling that began consuming him as more guilt began to eat away at him.

Vincent stole Adam away without a second thought because Vincent wanted to dig into why the human was so fascinating to him in that moment behind the club.

Vincent didn’t bother thinking about if the man would miss his family, if he needed structure and routine to maintain his sobriety from opiates, what his plans would be if the human broke on that first night like so many in the past had done.

And even after Vincent realized he wanted Adam around, all to himself like a selfish child, Vincent didn’t once ask him what he wanted.

Vincent just took what he wanted. His blood, his attention, his affection, his body…

I’m worse than a child. Worse than even the newest vampire. I’ve never given him a choice.

Vincent closed his eyes as they began to burn, trying to force back the rising ache in his throat.

Mine. He’s mine, only mine. He said so. Don’t let him go, the beast pushed back.

Vincent winced. I can’t keep him. It’s not right.

“Adam,” Vincent rasped before his beast could continue arguing. “You can leave whenever you want. I know what I said before, about waiting for the danger to pass, but I was just using this mess as a means to keep you around longer. I can arrange for you to be safe somewhere else.”

Adam’s head snapped up. “What? Why would I do that?”

Vincent kept his eyes shut, certain that if he opened them they would be filled with tears.

“Because I haven’t given you a choice. I’ve taken so much from you, I’ve hurt you, I took you from your life, your family, your friends.

I’ve been a selfish, reckless asshole, and I don’t deserve your affection.

So, when you feel ready, you can leave. I won’t stop you or try to bring you back. You can go back to your life.”

Fingers tightened around Vincent’s shirt.

“What life do you think I’d be going back to?

” he asked. “What friends and family? The ones who want nothing to do with me because I’m an addict?

Or the ones who want nothing to do with me because I don’t use with them anymore?

What do I have waiting for me if I leave? ”

“I don’t know. I just—”

“I have no one, Vincent. I have nothing. I have a shitty apartment in my dad’s name with a futon and a TV and a baggie of pills hidden in the tank of the toilet.

How long do you think I would last in that place if I go back?

” Adam grabbed cupped both sides Vincent’s face.

“Since I came here, I don’t wake up thinking about those pills.

I don’t care why you did what you did that day behind the strip club.

I don’t care about what happened before.

I just know I don’t want to go back to that life. I can’t.”

“Then let me make it up to you,” he insisted. “If you stay, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right. I’ll make it up to you.”

Adam leaned in, pressing his forehead to Vincent’s. “I don’t want you to make it up to me,” he whispered. “I just want you to let me stay.”

Vincent released a pent-up breath of relief and pulled Adam close, squeezing him tighter against his chest as if to capture the moment in his skin and never let it go.

Vincent’s face twisted as he tried desperately to keep his emotions contained, but the tears broke free anyway.

After years of trying to deny and suppress them, he seemed powerless against the onslaught of feelings.

They hit him like a shotgun blast to the chest, leaving him breathless and vulnerable with no hope for reprieve.

Is it really that simple? To just accept that these are a part of me and here to stay?

Adam’s lips found his, and for the first time in over a century, Vincent’s beast fell so completely silent, it’s presence seemed to vanish. No whispers of possession, no demands for control, just quiet acceptance. Maybe this is what peace feels like.