The Darkest Knight (Guardians of Camelot #3) - Victoria Sue Page 0,87
because apart from recognizing his face, he hadn’t had any interaction with him.
But Kay was a whole different matter. Kay had already been unloved by one father figure. To find out that his biological one was even worse could well have affected him deeply.
He’d seen Gawain carry an unconscious Galahad into Lance’s truck and take Mel and Tom with him. Lucan followed on his bike, and he knew he would be regretting his impetuous decision to come on it. Ali drove while Roxy rested her head on her shoulder. They encountered no traffic, no red lights, and no problems. “We’re here,” Charles said softly to Kay as they pulled into the driveway. Lucan was already opening the car door to help Gawain get Galahad out, and Tom ran ahead to get the small medical room ready.
“No, Tom,” Mel called out. “Take him into the small dining room.”
“Dining room?” Kay muttered, and Charles understood his confusion. It was full of old furniture Mel hadn’t gotten around to clearing yet. Tom nodded and ran ahead putting lights on, and they all stared in shock at the now very cozy bedroom suite. Gawain walked past them and laid Galahad very gently on the bed. Mel turned and shooed everyone out except Gawain and Lance, and they all left. “I’ll call you if I need you, Tom, but I don’t think his injuries can be treated.”
Charles understood what Mel meant—that his injuries were psychological and emotional rather than physical—but he had his own lover to care for, and he gently guided Kay upstairs to their room, following Ali and Roxy. They needed some time. Then suddenly out of nowhere before they even got to the bedroom door, Kay was crying. Great racking sobs burst out of him, and his knees gave out, so Charles simply swung him up, and Ali hurried to open the door for him. Roxy pressed a kiss to Kay’s hair, but Charles wasn’t even sure he was aware enough to notice.
“Hush, sweetheart. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Charles helped Kay strip, and in a few minutes he was wrapped up in Charles’s arms under the hot spray of the shower. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, and Kay turned his head and buried it in the crook of Charles’s neck while Charles quickly washed him. By the time Charles had him tucked up in bed and held tightly, his sobs had quieted.
“You nearly all died, and it was my fault,” Kay whispered after the storm of tears was over.
“What?” Charles dropped a kiss on his hot cheek. “Why would you think that? You were the one to save us. You were the one to kill Mordred.”
“But I should have remembered right away,” Kay nearly wailed. “I have a photographic memory, and the one time, the one time I really needed it—” Kay’s voice choked off in another sob, and his shoulders shook. “Do you know they never let me fight alone?”
“Who?”
“Lance and the rest of them. They’re worried I’ll hurt myself.” He raised his beautiful swollen eyes to Charles. “But I don’t want to die, and I would never ever put anyone at risk by doing something stupid.”
“Whoa, hey,” Charles leaned up on one elbow and looked down at Kay. “Stop this right now. None of this was your fault. If anyone has to take the blame here, it’s me.”
Kay’s lips parted on another argument, but he must have processed Charles’s words which weren’t what he had been expecting. “You? How can you possibly say this was your fault?”
“Because of my ego,” Charles admitted. “I couldn’t accept that my life had been a complete lie with no righteous cause, no fight or purpose, so I latched on to the idea that I was Mordred’s son and suddenly everything was all right because I had a job to do, and I was the only one that could do it. Me, the great Charles St. John, savior of the world, because again I could do something no one else could.” Charles shook his head in self-disgust. “If that isn’t some egotistical bullshit, I don’t know what is.”
Kay gazed at Charles for a moment. “Well, if you put it like that…” And Charles had to smile in response.
“How about we decide to put the blame firmly where it belongs and blame Mel?” Which made Kay laugh.
“Or how about,” Kay suggested, walking his fingers up Charles’s bare chest, “we stop thinking altogether and you show me how much you love me?”