He would take anyone’s and everyone’s help.
Please.
On birthdays, he didn’t bother with wishes for himself. His New Year’s resolutions were never selfish. He didn’t barter or trade promises for favors.
But tonight, he gave himself a pass. He would beg and barter anything for just one wish to be granted.
Please come back to me.
Ben. Think of Ben.
That soft laugh that escaped when Bull tickled his sides or ghosted his lips over a sensitive patch of skin.
That joy. That happiness.
That teasing glint in his bright eyes and blinding smile.
“You’re going to beg me to kill you!”
Ben. Think of Ben.
Sunlight peeked through the high window behind him and cast a light on the wall facing him. Daybreak. He had survived the night.
Now he needed to get through the day.
Vulnerability didn’t suit him. But tied to a rusty metal chair in a large empty room left him with little choice and fewer options.
The only answer was to stop fighting.
He wouldn’t give in… He would never give in. But fighting back would fuel Rafe’s rage and shorten his time. Right now, he needed to buy time if he hoped to make it back to Ben.
He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself, seeking that control that always kept him balanced. Sometimes, true control meant recognizing when relinquishing some of it was necessary.
Survival was the endgame.
After one slow, shallow breath, then another, he forced his mind to pay attention to the memories he recalled rather than the pain piercing every millimeter of his body.
Ben. Think of Ben.
Sweat trickled down his temple, traveling across his cheek and down into his mouth. The salt mixing with the tang of copper from his split lip was a far departure from the sweet cake treats Ben would make.
Think of Ben.
His broken nose was useless, and every breath hurt as it ripped through the dry valley of his parched throat. His vision was blurry and his mind foggy, but he pieced together another visual of those beautiful green eyes and that bright smile filled with so much life and happiness. He could see Ben so clearly in his mind. And if he tried really hard, he swore he could smell that deliciously sweet smell of sugar that always lingered in his hair and on his skin.
The multiple blows to his head had likely left him with a trail of lumps and bruises and one hell of a concussion. He could no longer feel his arms or the tender flesh of his wrists torn by the rope. Pain sliced through him as he took in another shallow breath. Either from the broken ribs or the two stabs Rafe had inflicted to his side.
Maybe it was three. He had lost count.
One night down, one day to go.
Keeping score wasn’t important. Time was. It was as precious as the memories and visions filling his mind, holding him steady.
Keeping him alive.
Ben. Think of Ben.
He would bleed and suffer whatever pain came his way. He would summon every ounce of strength left in his body to make it out of this. Anything for a chance at a life with the man he loved. The man he knew waited to hold him, to touch his neck, to tease him. To kiss him. To press that cold nose against his throat.
To kick his ass for scaring the shit out of him.
Then Ben would tell him he loved him, with his signs, with their private touch of the jaw and neck, and that sweet voice he rarely used.
Every image vividly painted in Bull’s mind. Every thought filled with love and life.
Every memory filled with promises for more.
The memories, smiles, happiness, and joy each new day with Ben brought were his lifeline, fueling his soul, keeping him alive.
He wanted more smiles. More time.
And fuck it all to hell, he was surviving the pain of his broken body to get through the day to hold his Ben again. Forever.
He took another slow breath.
It would be a cold day in hell before he became another name on Ben’s list of people who had abandoned him.
Fuck. No.
Anything that man wanted, Bull would grant with his very last breath.
And right now, he knew Ben wanted his ass back home.
He felt it.
I promise I’m coming back to you.
Ben’s kindness and selflessness were the beacons of light in this dark and cruel world. Bull wanted to guard it, nurture it, prevent others from stealing the very essence that defined that fiery light in Ben’s soul. He may be weak against Ben, but he sure as