The Talisman War Box Set

Chapter 11

Though he felt tired beyond belief from all the extra labor, Dakota worried about the wellbeing of his friend and potential lover, who hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and looked unquestionably ill.

Cold cuts, bread, lettuce, and fresh tomatoes presented themselves inside the family fridge. A hot meal would be better, but he couldn’t cook to save his life. He assembled two sandwiches and placed them on separate plates along with some ruffled potato chips. These he brought up to his own bedroom along with a re-corked, half-empty bottle of pink wine—tucked under his arm—and a couple of glasses.

Dakota borrowed an extra chair and a fold-out tray from the front living room. He set up a reasonable dinner table, complete with napkins and a large scented candle that he found in the kitchen. Satisfied with the result, he headed down to the second level and knocked on Terrell’s door.

It took him awhile to get up and out of bed, but when Terrell appeared in front of Dakota, he produced a slight smile. “Hey there,” he said weakly.

“Hey.” Dakota put one arm up on the doorframe and leaned in a little. “I made some food. I think you should eat something, even if you’re not hungry.” How many times had he said that exact phrase? To a dying woman slowly losing all control over her motor skills—and her own body. How many times did he fix her some cheap microwaved s**t that tasted like cardboard and watched with a sinking heart as she tried and failed to get the food into her mouth? The circumstances might be drastically different, but the action itself felt eerily familiar. Caring for someone. Making certain they had basic human necessities. Terrell needed a meal, even though he probably didn’t want to eat, and Dakota was prepared to pressure him into it for his own good.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and banished the darker thoughts.

Terrell reached for him and caressed his cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Yes, he did. He couldn’t let a hurting person just go hungry. “It’s no problem. Think you could climb upstairs? I set up a table and everything.”

He blinked in disbelief. Eventually, he agreed, “Yeah, okay.”

Nodding, Dakota turned toward the stairs. Terrell relied heavily on his cane to make the journey, but he still followed at a reasonable pace. Once he saw the setup, his jaw dropped open.

“Dakota,” was all he managed to say at first.

“I know the timing sucks,” he explained hastily. “I know what it looks like. But this is what you wanted, right? Some one-on-one time with just us? And you gotta eat something. You’re gonna pass out if you don’t. So, I figured, best of both worlds.”

Terrell looked like he could jump for joy—or start bawling. His eyes danced across the glasses of wine, the one awkward candle, and the delicately prepared food. The hand that held his cane trembled a little. “Do you even like wine?” he asked with a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

He shook his head and let out a quiet laugh. “Nope. f**k no. Not even a little. But I thought you might.”

Making eye contact, Terrell smiled. “Yeah.” Without further hesitation, Terrell walked inside the room, closed the door, and sat down in the nearest chair. Dakota followed, taking the seat across from him. He didn’t touch his own food until Terrell brought the sandwich up to his mouth and took a tentative bite.

“How is it?” he asked about halfway through the meal.

With a mouth full of food, Terrell gave him a thumbs up. Then, after a couple gulps of the wine, he continued, “It’s really good. Oh my God.”

Dakota flashed him a big smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

Terrell stalled out before finishing the chips, though he did inhale the sandwich and his wine, while Dakota’s drink remained largely untouched. He seemed in good enough spirits considering their dire circumstances, but after a few minutes of sitting in silence, the wine, exhaustion, and likely a head full of emotions all served to defeat any elation he gained from the meal. A telltale tremor of his lower lip started off a chain reaction in him. He brought his left hand up to his mouth and began chewing on one of his cuticles. Moments later, his whole body shivered, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to keep Dakota from seeing him get upset.

But the poor guy had every right to be. His cousin was viciously attacked, and now everyone he cared about could be in danger.

Dakota rose to his feet and went to him. He leaned down and enveloped Terrell in his arms, pulling him close. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’s gonna be okay. I got you. I have you.”

That was the last straw. With his face pressed into Dakota’s chest, he sobbed. His shoulders heaved.

He held Terrell tightly and tried to be there for him, to create the support he needed. He kissed the top of Terrell’s head and rubbed his back affectionately. “We’re gonna get the asshole who hurt her,” he promised in barely a whisper. “You can f*****g bet on that.”

“What if he gets to us first? We don’t have any idea how to stop him,” Terrell countered, his voice muffled by Dakota’s shirt.

“He won’t.” Dakota didn’t know that for sure, but what did it matter? Better that Terrell have some hope. Better that he feel safe, if only for a little while. “You and your family—you’re tough. That stupid piece of s**t doesn’t know what he got himself into. Your cousins are gonna fillet him for what he did.”

Terrell sniffed before gripping at Dakota’s side. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve met you. I’ve met your family. C’mon.” He helped Terrell up and guided him over to the bed. But when he crawled onto it, Dakota simply sat next to him and ran his hand over Terrell’s side until the trembling stopped. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It took only five minutes for him to fall asleep there. A light sigh signaled the moment he finally relaxed.

As Terrell drifted off into a deeper sleep, Dakota carefully got up, grabbed a pillow, and climbed onto the room’s softest chair. There wasn’t enough space for both of them in the small bed, especially not with Terrell lying diagonally, and anyway, he wanted to give him some space. The chair wouldn’t be comfortable, but he didn’t want to leave Terrell alone. Before too long, he couldn’t care less that it wasn’t a real bed.

* * * *

He awoke to cursing. Loud noises filled the room as Terrell stumbled around. When Dakota pried his eyes open, he saw a frantic and distraught man aimlessly wandering around his bedroom. Coughing, he asked, “What’s wrong?” He squinted into the light.

“Why’d you let me fall asleep here?!” Terrell practically shouted.

The sudden change in mood and the spite in his voice sent a pang of fear through Dakota. “What? Terrell, you were upset. I—”

“I can’t get my leg to work because I slept on it funny,” he returned angrily. “And now the cat’s out of the bag! I wanted to tell them on my own terms, dammit. Now, they get to find out this way?! Now, of all times?!”

“Huh?” He rubbed at his eyes sleepily. “Terrell, you—you were crying. I just wanted to make you feel better. You were in pretty rough shape. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

Sadness and panic shadowed his expression. “They’re gonna find out now.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “If that’s the case, then I can help you deal with it. But there’s a chance they’re a little too preoccupied right now, and they won’t even notice.” He slowly stretched his legs and got up from the chair. Approaching cautiously, he went on, “And it’s not like we did anything. You can tell them that, and it’d be the truth.”

“Like it’ll make any difference.”

“Whatever happens, I promise you won’t be alone,” Dakota insisted after a long pause. Closing the distance, he hugged him. It felt nice to touch Terrell again. Because of the height difference, he had to rise up on his toes to move in for a kiss. “I’m sorry about your leg,” he whispered. “I should’ve rolled you over or something.”

Terrell let out a laugh. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Can I help? Meds, ice—maybe a massage?” He raised an eyebrow.

But Terrell shot down the idea. “I just need to walk on it for a while and, umm, take a hot shower.”

One of Dakota’s arms glided down to Terrell’s lower back. He walked him over to the door. “Want company?” He couldn’t help himself. Being close to him, naked and covered in steaming hot water—not an unappealing prospect. All they’d been through in such a short amount of time only made the fantasy more potent. They were there emotionally, intellectually. But they’d hardly touched each other. And he really wanted to.

“What? No. No, I—I mean, yeah, I’d love to. But we can’t, at least not right now. If there’s any chance they don’t know already, I don’t want them to find out like that. I just wanna tell them. I want them to hear it from me.” His big brown eyes pleaded for understanding.

With only a tinge of disappointment, Dakota helped Terrell into the hallway. “Rain check, then.” Dakota looked around before giving him another big kiss. “Need help down the stairs?” he asked delicately. He had no problem playing nurse to Terrell when he required it, but Dakota wasn’t about to assume it was wanted.

Terrell’s face showed embarrassment, and it seemed he wanted to turn the offer down, just on principle, but he needed the help. The pain on his face and the lack of mobility said what he didn’t have to. He gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dakota spoke in a soft voice. “Like I said, I got you.”

When they reached the second-floor bathroom, Terrell kissed him lightly on the temple. “Thanks.”

He flashed him a sweet smile before heading back upstairs.