back door open, so Thomas heard a crow’s rasping call in the field behind the house. He could also hear the faint noise of Daralyn’s chimes, adding music to the bird’s cries. One of them had fallen down yesterday, pushed off its hook by the wind. When Marcus had walked over there to hang it back up, Thomas had been in the loft. He’d watched Marcus run his hand over the strands of sea glass that formed it, then stand there a couple moments.
They both missed her intensely. Yet when their eyes met across the property, Thomas remembered what it had been like, thinking he had to give up Marcus forever. Their reaction to Daralyn’s absence had to be a mere shadow of how Rory felt. That glass was sitting in his brother’s heart and being churned like a blender, slicing and cutting him every waking hour.
The light dawned, and he met Marcus’s gaze. “She couldn’t say no to Hayworth, tell him she belonged to someone else. To her Master. Not being able to be everything she wanted to be for Rory, discovering it was literally beyond her abilities, was something she couldn’t accept. It tore her apart.”
Marcus nodded. “With that kind of submissive, it doesn’t matter how demanding the Master is. No one demands more than the submissive herself. The irony of this is that by leaving, a pretty drastic and decisive step, Daralyn did decide what she wanted.”
A grim smile touched his mouth at Thomas’s startled look. “She wants Rory, and she wants to be able to tell him that. I expect Dr. Taylor was smart enough to figure that out, and will use it to help her. I wish it could help your brother.”
Shadows crossed Marcus’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s thought of it, but other things, his own issues, are likely making it hard for him to see it as a hopeful sign. And since it could go a lot of ways…” He lifted a shoulder.
“Wow.” Thomas blew out a breath. “Hell. So…time.”
“Time. It’s a total bitch.” Marcus gestured with his fork. “And patience is not your brother’s best trait.”
“What is?”
“Since he wears it on his shoulders a lot, I’ve gotten a close look. He has an excellent ass.”
Marcus chuckled as Thomas shot a grape at him. Thomas shook his head. “Mom’s pretty upset. She has that two-week trip to Flagstaff with her church group, and Rory wouldn’t let her cancel it. He also told me this morning, before I even brought it up, that if I didn’t keep the San Diego show date, he would fucking shoot me. Quote unquote.”
“He needs time and space, Thomas. Let’s give it to him.”
Thomas knew he was right, but it didn’t dissipate his worry. Marcus reached across the table, closed his hand on Thomas’s. “We’ll check in with him. Give Johnny and Amanda our cell numbers just in case.”
Thomas made a face. “I know he’s a grown man. I guess I can’t stop being a big brother.”
“Nor should you.”
Thomas looked across the corner of the table at Marcus. No matter that time had healed it, he still felt the pain of their shared past. “Did you feel like Rory feels now?”
Marcus’s eyes flickered. “Yes. I did. And though you had your family, I knew you had isolated yourself from them emotionally, because they couldn’t understand. So you were dealing with everything seemingly alone, and you’d told me you didn’t want my help. There might be nothing worse for a person to hear, whether they’re a brother, spouse, or lover. But for a Dom in particular, it’s tough as hell.”
Thomas moved his foot under the table, covering Marcus’s. “I’m a grown man,” he said seriously, “But I didn’t know how to handle the pain of being without you while caring for my family. Which is how my ulcers got worse. I knew something was wrong, but when you’re between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to go, sometimes embracing that physical pain is the only distraction. That’s what concerns me. In focusing on how much Daralyn needed him, how his strength helped her push her own boundaries, I’m worried that we’re overlooking just how much he needs her.”
Marcus studied him. Inclined his head. “If you want, we’ll cancel the trip.”
Thomas considered, struggled with it, then shook his head. “No. You’re right. We need to give him space.” A wry smile tugged at his mouth. “Plus, he really would shoot me. Rory loves any excuse to pull out his guns.