Not that Jay held him responsible for the security breach or anything that followed—before or after. No one would believe he could have done anything more than he had already done. Gideon had done everything he could and then some.
No, Gideon had faltered becauseGideonbelieved he was responsible.
Getting up from the bed, Jay follows the sound of running water. Light spills dimly from under the bathroom door. Weird. Gideon had already showered when they’d come in—before Jay had pulled him into bed.
Spooning up behind him had settled Jay enough for them to drift into a fitful sleep.
So why was Gideon in the shower again?
“Gideon?” Jay calls quietly. “You okay?”
There’s no answer, but the scent of thunder and petrichor is so strong that Jay’s nose tingles.
Pushing the door open, he can only hear the shower running—loud enough to drown out every other sound.
But then Jay sees him curled up between the toilet and the shower, soaking wet in his pajama pants. Face pressed to his knees. Shoulders shaking.Crying.
Jay only knows because of the occasional, barely-there hitch of breath.
“Babe. Fuck, are you hurting?”
Jay kneels in the frigid water pooling across the tiles and reaches for the knob, shutting off the shower. “Gideon, please. Are you hurt?”
Gideon shakes his head but doesn’t look up. Only grips his legs tighter and grits out, “Go away.”
“No,” Jay says, scooching in until his legs bracket Gideon’s seated form—one leg pushed up against the toilet, the other pressed against the open shower door. “I’m going to be wherever you are for the rest of eternity, so you better get talking.”
Gideon huffs. “Drama llama.”
“You know it, baby. So…” Jay murmurs, rubbing a hand over the back of Gideon’s head and down his shoulder.
Sighing, Gideon tilts his head up so his face is visible, chin pressed into his knees. His bruised face is mottled red with tears.
“So beautiful, even with snot on your face.”
“Those are tears, dumbass. I do not have fucking snot on my face.”
Still, he grabs a towel and swipes it under his nose—just in case.
“Dumbass, hmm? I don’t get no respect around here,” Jay drawls in an accent straight out of one of those John Wayne westerns Leo likes so much.
It makes Gideon smile—for the tiniest moment. But it’s not long before another bout of tears rolls down his cheeks.
“Come on. Tell me. Please.” Jay isn’t above begging.
Gideon bangs his forehead against his knees, then waves a hand to shoo Jay out of the tiny space. “Move. My ass is wet and sore—and not in a fun way. Move.”
Jay scoots out before offering Gideon a hand, which he bats away.
“Fuck. What’s wrong with me? I’m sitting in the dark, crying like a baby. I never cry, but this is the second time in the last two weeks. I fucking hate this feeling.” Gideon presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.
“It was a hard day, and no one could have predicted—”
“That’s just it. Ishouldhave seen it coming. It’s my fucking job to make sure this family is safe. I thought I had my eyes on the threat, thought I had the tools to protect them—and the bad guys just waltzed in past my best efforts.”
Gideon peels off his wet pajama pants, dropping them onto the floor before stalking into the bedroom. He sits heavily on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees so he can dig his hands into his hair.
Jay follows because he wasn’t kidding before when he said he had plans to be with Gideon until the end of time.
