Page 16 of Murder & Mayhem (Bloody Desires #9)

DOMINIC

I needed to step away. Create some much-needed distance between us. I was latching on, becoming attached in a way I hadn’t since eight-year-old Gideon had shuffled his way into the bedroom I’d been sharing with three other boys, nothing but a trash bag full of clothes and a black eye.

This was different though. Yeah, all the protective instincts were there and the need to claim Jamie as mine, like I had with Gid and Ari, but this was so much more.

I wanted to take away all his pain, all his stress.

My hand rubbed the back of his head as I wished like hell there was a way I could transfer all his burdens onto me.

I was aware that my feelings were too intense for a virtual stranger, but as much as I knew I should back off, keep things professional, let Jamie live his life after we found his brother without my darkness tainting him, it was way too late for that.

I’d meant it when I’d told him he wasn’t alone, and if I had my way, he never would be again.

I held him tight until the sobs stopped. Even after that, I couldn’t stop. He was fisting the fabric of my shirt and his body was still shaking from the aftereffects. He needed me. Who was I to deny him?

Once I was sure he was steady enough on his feet to walk, I gently guided him out of the kitchen. Jamie didn’t stop me or even ask where I was going. He was completely hollowed out.

I didn’t bother turning on the light in the bedroom and headed directly to the en suite. I left Jamie standing by the door while I turned on the shower, getting the temperature right.

He hadn’t moved a muscle when I turned back around.

I wasn’t sure if he’d even blinked. Dried tears streaked down his swollen and blotchy face.

His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. Everything about him called to me.

The last time I checked my phone I had a text from Gideon where he called me Daddy because he was a brat and nothing gave him more joy than teasing me.

I couldn’t even be mad because I was a Daddy, and while those preferences typically only came out in the bedroom, Jamie was lighting up every single one of them, and it had nothing to do with sex.

Both my brothers could already see it, hence the teasing and Ari’s whispered warnings about being careful.

Though I wasn’t as reckless as Gid, nobody would call me careful unless they were talking about me covering my ass after kills.

Even then, I relied heavily on Ari. As far as Jamie was concerned, the only carefulness I planned on practicing was when it came to not hurting or pressuring him.

“Jamie,” I said quietly, pushing a strand of matted hair out of his eyes. “Can you undress yourself, or do you need help?”

Sad eyes met mine, and he licked his dry lips. “Please help.” His voice was small, like he hated admitting it, but I was so proud.

“Good boy.”

First, I carefully reached for the knife that was still in his pocket. He didn’t stop me as I took it out and placed it on the bathroom vanity. He didn’t react at all.

I knelt and began working on unbuttoning his worn jeans and pulling them down his legs.

Jamie lifted it when I tapped his calf so I could remove his pants, but that was the only help he offered.

It pleased that part of me that wanted to take care of my partners.

The socks came next. They were mismatched, and the left one had a big hole in the toe.

I said nothing and put them aside with the pants.

He was wearing regular, plaid, unflattering boxers, the type that I thought only old men wore, but somehow that made him look even cuter.

Nothing about that underwear was attractive, but paired with his oversized hoodie as he swayed slightly in my bathroom, it fucking worked.

I hesitated at the waistband, wondering if Jamie was going to stop me, but he didn’t, so I carefully, almost reverently, pulled the boxers down, exposing even more pale skin.

I had the nearly uncontrollable urge to kiss along his thighs, but I resisted. My less than wholesome thoughts had no business showing up here. Jamie’s well-being was my only concern.

It was impossible to ignore the scars, but I tried.

Small, circular burn scars, from a cigarette possibly, and some bigger ones, maybe from a cigar, covered the top of his right thigh, directly above his knee.

I knew all about those. I had a few of my own.

Another larger burn scar covered the side of his left thigh.

I didn’t even want to know how he’d gotten that, but I was pretty sure it would make me want to resurrect Byrne just to kill him again, only more painfully.

The ones I was most drawn to were the thin lines on Jamie’s inner thigh. They were too perfect to be anything but intentional. Had Jamie done those to himself, or had that been another form of torture on the poor boy?

I glanced up, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but Jamie didn’t seem to realize I’d been staring. This was not the time to ask about them, if there ever was. It really was none of my business, but I likely didn’t have it in me to let it go.

His sweatshirt was so big, it immediately covered his soft cock.

Standing up, I put the scars aside for now. “Lift your arms, beautiful.”

Jamie’s eyes fluttered closed as he obeyed.

The hoodie rose up his thighs, but I kept my eyes up and on his face.

Under it, he was wearing a ridiculously faded, long-sleeved black shirt with bleach stains on the bottom.

It was as oversized as the hoodie and somehow made him seem even smaller.

I got that off him before he put his arms down.

The scarring wasn’t only on his legs, but I tried not to linger and gently guided him under the warm stream.

“You can use any of the products you want. I’ll leave a towel for you and get you something to wear.

Ari probably left something here that should fit you.

” I tapped my fingers on the vanity sink, hesitant to leave but also knowing it was the right thing to do.

I turned toward the door to give Jamie some privacy.

“Wait!” he called out as my hand touched the handle. “What about you?”

I turned toward him. He hadn’t closed the shower door and was standing right under the stream, his hair smooshed to his forehead. He wasn’t turned toward me, but he wasn’t making any effort to cover himself either.

I swallowed and kept my eyes up, staring at the light fixture. “What about me?”

“Don’t you need to shower too? ”

Fuck, what was this boy playing at? “Yeah, I will when you’re done.”

Jamie angled his head so he was mostly facing me, though he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Not that it would be easy with me refusing to look at him. But it was way too dangerous if I did. I wasn’t a fucking saint, and the attraction I felt for Jamie was undeniable. He was testing my willpower here.

“Or you could stay.”

I sucked in a breath and finally caved, looking directly at him. Jamie still had his head turned away from me, but that wouldn’t do.

“Look at me, beautiful. I need to see those pretty eyes when you ask me something like that.”

Jamie scoffed, though his pink cheeks proved it wasn’t really annoyance he was feeling. It took him a while, but I wouldn’t budge. He looked at me.

“Good boy, thank you.”

His cheeks went from pink to red. “Now, what exactly are you asking me, Jamie? I don’t think you’re in a good place now to—” I couldn’t believe I was preemptively turning him down, but while I might be a murderer, I wasn’t a monster, and I didn’t think he was in the place to make a decision like that.

“Just to shower. I don’t want anything else. Just, don’t leave me alone. I-I can’t be alone right now.”

Jamie’s voice broke and he looked away again, but the vulnerability in his tone had me pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it to the side.

That and the white lines along his inner thigh.

I didn’t know the boy well enough to jump to those conclusions, but he was struggling, and if those were self-imposed .

. . then yeah. If he was asking for help, I was gonna give it.

I left my underwear on as a reminder to myself as much as to make Jamie comfortable.

Ignoring the puddle of water on the bathroom floor—I’d deal with that later—I slipped inside the shower.

I closed the door and joined Jamie under the stream.

I’d never been more grateful for my amazing water tank as the hot water beat down on my shoulders. It was worth every penny I’d spent.

Jamie and I were facing each other with only inches separating us. My nostrils flared as I tried desperately not to breathe. Shower. Get us clean and give the boy the security he needed. That was it.

Since Jamie made no effort to reach for any of the shower stuff, I grabbed my shampoo and poured some into my hand. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

Jamie’s eyes held questions, but he obeyed without voicing them. I started to massage the shampoo through his locks.

Jamie’s body rocked as the tension left him inch by inch the longer I worked on his hair.

I was taking much longer than necessary, but watching Jamie relax made it worth it.

Eventually, I had to move on. I rinsed out the shampoo and then added a small amount of conditioner.

My body was heavy with exhaustion, so I forced myself not to linger as long.

I wanted to give Jamie all the pampering, but it would have to wait.

I could only hope I’d have another opportunity one day.

Once the conditioner was rinsed out, I grabbed the puff that was on the shelf and poured a generous amount of body wash onto it. Jamie was breathing softly, with his chin resting against his chest. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was half asleep. I started with his back so he didn’t have to move yet.