Page 9 of Echoes of Fear
“I need to ask you a favor,” leaning forward, I stare down as he makes himself appear as small as possible. “But I want you toknow that I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to help. Do you understand?”
He looks up and nods.
“Words, boy,” I demand. “I need to hear the words.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Good boy,” I praise.
Longing shines brightly in the young man’s eyes, and I’m sure mine is a reflection of his own. But I need to take a step back and remind myself that he’s been through shit, and I’m not the right person for him.
I lean back in my chair and study the boy, Knox, as he waits for me to talk. He keeps looking at the front door and back to the floor.
I have this overwhelming need to pull him into my arms and protect him. But that’s only because he’s a Little, and all Little’s pull at my protective side. It’s part of being a Daddy Dom.
“Hurry the fuck up, boss,” Ben sighs. “Let’s just grab the damn queer and take him back to your house. He can help there. I’m ready to leave.”
Knox gasps, and Blaze and Steel take a few steps forward. I quickly jump in front of them and wait for them to see me past their haze of anger directed towards Ben. It takes several moments before they finally look me in the eyes.
I wait until they see what I’m trying to convey. With a nod, they both move to the side.
Walking over to Knox, I stop a few feet away and kneel. The poor boy is on the verge of a panic attack.
“Breathe slowly,” I command.
“I…can’t,” he pants. “Please, don’t make…me leave.”
His eyes are closed, and he’s lying on the floor with his arms wrapped around his bent knees. He’s in a fetal position, and it takes every bit of self-control that I have not to sit down and rock him until his fear lessens.
“You’re not going anywhere, little one,” I say, sitting crossed leg on the floor as close as I dare get. “You’re having a panic attack, and I need you to try and focus. Can you do that for me?”
“How?” he whispers.
“Think about your body and where you’re at,” I start. “Tell me, what do you feel?”
“The…floor.”
“Good boy,” I praise. “What do you hear?”
“My heartbeat,” he says, his voice slightly raised. “It’s so fast.”
“What else, baby? What else do you hear?”
Baby?I need to get a grip.
“Your voice,” he answers more calmly.
“That’s good, baby boy. You’re doing so well. What do you smell?”
“The smelly cologne that Jax likes to wear.”
“Fuck you, Knox,” the man in question laughs gently.
“Open your eyes,” I order.
It takes several seconds, but his eyes finally open and land right on mine.
“What do you see?” I ask softly.