Conquer the Flames (Langs Down) (25 page)

He slumped in Thorne’s arms, all tension leaving him as that feeling settled into his very bones. As long as Thorne was there, he was safe.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize,” Thorne insisted. “You helped me the last time I nearly lost it to flashbacks. I can help you in return.”

“We’ve both been there,” Walker agreed. “We might not have the same nightmares stalking us, but we’d be lying if we said we slept easy at night. Lachlan, take him back to the hotel and make him forget everything but your name. That’ll help him feel better.”

Ian shuddered. He wished that were a possibility. He’d love to be able to forget, but it wouldn’t happen the way Walker suggested, not when that was the cause of his nightmares in the first place.

“I’ll take care of him,” Thorne promised. “I was going to pack up the ute tonight so we didn’t have to come back in the morning, but now I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“It’s just a few boxes,” Walker said. “I’ll carry them down now and that way you can sleep in and get on the road tomorrow when you’re ready.”

“I’m sorry,” Ian said again when Walker had left with the first of the boxes. “I’ve spoiled the evening.”

“You haven’t spoiled anything,” Thorne insisted. He nuzzled Ian’s cheek, the tickle of his beard another reminder that Ian was safe and protected. “Walker is right. We’ve both been there. I wish you’d tell me what caused it, but I won’t push. I know talking about it doesn’t always help.”

“Not now,” Ian said. “Maybe… maybe someday, but not tonight.”
Not here.

Thorne nodded and held him a little tighter. Ian closed his eyes and just breathed in the scent of safety. Eventually the blanket became overly warm, probably a good sign, given the ambient temperature, so he shrugged it off his shoulders, but he made no move to escape Thorne’s embrace. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than snug in Thorne’s arms.

He’d have to deal with both the immediate and underlying causes of his panic attack at some point, but for right now, he could pretend Thorne’s care meant he felt the same way Ian did. Ian didn’t delude himself into thinking that would last beyond the revelation of his past, but he would take what he could get. Memories of his time with Thorne would keep him warm through the winter of his future.

He heard the door open and shut several more times as he sat there with Thorne murmuring in his ear, but he didn’t look up. Thorne wasn’t worried, so the sounds had to be Walker coming and going with Thorne’s boxes.

“Everything’s loaded,” Walker said eventually, breaking Ian’s reverie. “I’ll see you next time you come to town.”

“Don’t expect it to be soon,” Thorne said.

“I won’t,” Walker replied. “It doesn’t matter how long it is. Just keep me posted.”

“I will. Thanks, Walker.”

“Take care of him, and let him take care of you.”

“As much as he’ll let me.”

Ian felt like he ought to say something, but the panic attack had left him exhausted. He rose at Thorne’s urging, but it took Thorne’s arm around his waist to keep him steady. They made it down the stairs and into the ute, but Thorne had to fasten the seat belt around him. He fell asleep before they’d even left the car park.

Eighteen

T
HORNE
hated to wake Ian up when they got to the hotel, but he didn’t think carrying him inside was really an option. Fortunately, Ian woke without fuss or fear, even summoning a genuine smile for Thorne.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.”

“No worries,” Thorne said. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” Ian said. “I just hope my impromptu nap doesn’t keep me from sleeping tonight.”

“Let’s get checked into the hotel and you can go straight to bed,” Thorne suggested. “If we hurry, maybe you won’t wake up all the way and can fall back asleep easily.”

Ian nodded and followed Thorne into the lobby of the hotel. The clerk gave them two keys and directions to the rooms. They were on the same floor, but on opposite ends of the hall, which made Thorne uneasy. If Ian had nightmares, Thorne wouldn’t be close enough to hear him.

He paused at the door to Ian’s room. “Are you going to be all right by yourself? I don’t like leaving you alone after a panic attack like you had earlier.”

Ian hesitated for a moment before replying. “I think a spot of company would be good. If you don’t mind. I can’t… what Walker said—”

“Not like that,” Thorne assured him before he could even finish his sentence. “Just to make sure you can sleep. He meant well, but he doesn’t understand.”

“And you do?” Ian asked.

“Enough to know that making love to you would hurt more than it would help,” Thorne replied honestly. “No matter how much I might like the idea, I’m not going to do anything to hurt or upset you. Ever.”

“I… thank you.”

Thorne wasn’t sure he’d ever been prouder of hearing those two words. He was only doing what any decent man would do, but it seemed Ian hadn’t known many decent men before now, at least not ones who were interested in him. To have earned Ian’s trust to the point that he would believe Thorne’s assertion felt like a feat far more worthy of praise than anything he’d done with the Commandos.

“I’ll step out while you get ready for bed,” Thorne said, “and then I can sit with you until you fall asleep.”

“Like a child afraid of the dark,” Ian said bitterly.

Thorne caught Ian’s arms and pulled him into an embrace. “No, like a man who just had a panic attack and is now having to sleep in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar city without anything to ground him if something triggers another one.” He tipped Ian’s chin up so he could meet his stormy green gaze. “You’re not the only one who has them. You saw me barely fight one off the first night I spent at your place, and believe me, the only reason I managed was because you were there keeping me steady and giving me a place to feel safe. If I can do the same for you now, I’ll count myself lucky.”

“I don’t know how to handle it,” Ian admitted. He pulled away and Thorne let him go, watching helplessly as Ian started to pace. “I thought it was all behind me and then….”

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” Thorne offered quietly. “Whatever haunts your nightmares, it might be an easier burden if it’s shared. I know it helps sometimes just to remember that I’m not alone, that whatever nightmare I’m dealing with, Walker was there with me.”

“Not tonight,” Ian said. “All I want tonight is to sleep. Ask me again after Christmas, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Thorne frowned. Christmas was only a week away, so that was hardly so far in the future that it would make much difference in the grand scheme of things, but Thorne hated the idea of Ian suffering alone even that much longer. He’d known Ian had a rough past. Kami had told him that much, even if he didn’t know details, although Thorne could guess at some of what that was, given Ian’s hesitancy where anything sexual was concerned, but he’d thought it was limited to that. Whatever had triggered his panic attack tonight, it hadn’t been sexual. They’d been sitting on Walker’s couch talking, not even close enough to touch, and for once, the conversation hadn’t been laced with innuendo. Walker had used the word “boyfriend” a couple of times, but not immediately before Ian’s meltdown, so that wasn’t it. Ian’s fears clearly went beyond the scope of what Thorne had guessed.

“If that’s what you want,” Thorne said.

“I don’t want to fuck up the holidays,” Ian said. “Don’t say I won’t. You can’t know that, and I won’t take the risk. After Christmas, we’ll talk, and if you still want me then, we’ll see how things go.”

Thorne froze. He couldn’t imagine anything Ian could tell him that would change the way he felt, but then Ian didn’t know how Thorne felt. Now wasn’t the time to tell him, though. He wouldn’t believe it if Thorne said it, or if he did, he’d worry his revelations would change it. Thorne couldn’t think of anything Ian could tell him that would change the way he felt. He knew Ian had been abused to the point of having hang-ups about sex, whether he’d been raped or had resorted to prostitution to keep himself fed. Thorne would gladly kill the man or men who’d left him so shattered, but he didn’t blame Ian for it, no matter which it was. For that matter, Thorne wouldn’t blame him if Ian revealed he’d killed to protect himself.

“It won’t change anything, but I’ll wait,” Thorne said. “Come on, it’s bedtime. You still look completely wrung out. I’ll step outside and you tell me when I can come back in.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Ian said. Thorne could practically see him struggling with himself as he began unbuttoning the long-sleeved shirt he’d worn even in the ute to protect his fair skin. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt underneath it, so Thorne only got a glimpse of his arms and shoulders, not his chest, but the T-shirt clung to lines of Ian’s chest, hinting at what it concealed. Ian reached for the button on his jeans, but he didn’t undo it, resting his hands on the waistband as if he was wrestling with himself. Taking pity on him, Thorne turned his back, giving Ian the illusion of privacy, if nothing else. He heard the sound of Ian’s jeans hitting the floor and then the rustling of covers. “You can turn back around now. Thank you.”

Thorne turned to see Ian bundled under the thin sheet all the way up to his neck. It was too hot for anything else, even now that the sun had gone down. “You’re welcome,” Thorne said as he settled in the chair across the room. “Turn the light off and go to sleep. I’ll keep watch until I’m sure you’re out.”

Ian clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. It took a few minutes for Thorne’s eyes to adjust, but he’d always had exceptional night vision, and enough light came in through the open window that before long, he could trace the outline of Ian’s body on the bed. Ian lay unmoving, but Thorne could tell he hadn’t relaxed. Unfortunately, he didn’t know if that was because of the lingering effects of the panic attack or because of Thorne’s presence in the room. However much Thorne wanted to represent safety to Ian, he knew enough about the tricks the mind could play in a compromised state to understand that his good intentions might not be enough. Despite everything, with Ian feeling vulnerable, Thorne could well represent a threat.

He couldn’t make himself offer to leave, though, not while there was a chance Ian might need him. He’d go if Ian asked, but not before.

T
HE
chair across the room creaked.

Ian sighed and rolled over. Thorne still sat there, far less alert than he’d been earlier, which probably accounted for the creaking chair. When he’d first sat down, he’d been eerily still, every muscle motionless as he’d stood watch. Now, though, he appeared to be dozing, and Ian felt guilty. He didn’t know what Thorne was waiting for or why he’d decided to stay, but he wasn’t going to get any rest nodding off in that chair.

“Thorne,” he said softly.

Instantly Thorne came awake, his whole body on alert.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The chair creaks, and you’re going to get a crick in your neck. Come to bed.”

The words were out before he realized he’d intended to say them, but he didn’t try to take them back. Having Thorne in the room steadied him, except when the noise kept him awake. He could deal with having Thorne closer.

He expected to be more nervous as Thorne removed his shirt and jeans and came toward the bed in only his underwear, but he wasn’t. To the depths of his marrow, he knew Thorne wasn’t a threat to him. He would lie down next to Ian and stay completely on his side of the bed, if that was what Ian wanted, or he would hold Ian tight all through the night if that was what he asked for, and come morning, he would kiss Ian sweetly and go on as if this were an everyday occurrence.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Ian knew he wanted it to be. He wasn’t ready for Thorne to follow Walker’s suggestion and make love to him until he couldn’t remember his own name, but he could take this step. He could sleep in Thorne’s arms and let that closeness soothe some of the rough edges of his soul. He only hoped it did the same for Thorne.

He lifted the covers in invitation, and Thorne lay down on the other side of the bed, exactly as Ian had known he would. Ian shifted a little closer and sought Thorne’s hand. Thorne entwined their fingers immediately but left it at that. Ian smiled and rolled onto his side, tugging Thorne’s arm over him so their joined hands rested against Ian’s breastbone.

“Are you sure?” Thorne whispered.

Ian snuggled a little closer, the hot, hard line of Thorne’s body behind him like a mountain protecting him from everything outside their bed. “I’m sure.”

Thorne was silent after that, and Ian relaxed even more. Between the warmth of Thorne’s body and the sense of safety he radiated, Ian felt sleep stealing over his senses. He should have been nervous when Thorne shifted a little on the bed and his groin pressed against Ian’s arse, but Ian knew even without thinking about it that the movement posed no threat. Thorne was getting comfortable, not gearing up to force himself on Ian. Ian nestled a little closer and let himself go completely limp, his grip on Thorne’s hand his anchor as he drifted off into sleep.