Poe flipped him off.
“You gave your commanders head,” he said. “You dumbass piece of shit!”
When his finger went to the trigger, Poe closed his eyes.
Only, there was the sound of a bullet, and Poe felt nothing.
Was he shot?
“Poe William Seville-Doyle!” Gamble said, horrified. “Were you trying to die?” he asked. “I just got here, and had to watch you poke the nut. What if I didn’t have a gun?” he asked. “Or shit aim?”
At his voice, Poe spun around, and he saw the most amazing thing in his life.
Gamble.
Immediately, he climbed out of the hole, and ran to him.
“My love!”
Seeing his husband, Gamble grabbed him and pulled him into his body to hold him.
“You are insane, Doctor,” he stated. “You shouldn’t poke the crazy.”
Poe didn’t care.
He clung to him.
“They said you were dead. I didn’t want to live without you,” he admitted.
And then stopped.
“Why do you smell like another man?” he asked, stepping back.
Gamble actually laughed.
“Really? Now?”
Poe was feeling sweaty and shrewish. It had been a long-ass night.
“I’d explain,” he said. “Or you’re sleeping on the couch.”
Gamble was amused as hell.
“Well, I killed a man and stole his clothes. So, I’m going to say you’re smelling him, because I was a little busy killing mercenaries to save my husband.”
Poe stared at him.
“Okay, that’s probable.”
He laughed even more. Gamble knew Poe was experiencing that rush of adrenaline.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. “Seriously.”
Was he?
NO.
Poe wanted to get the hell out of here.
