He’d been… restless.
Fidgety.
Anxious.
He rarely slept unless he was tangled between all my limbs. Eating was a challenge, and when we were home, he refused to let me out of his sight. The neediness was fucking cute, but the rest of it made me want to vomit.
Sebastian was suffering, and each day that went by without consequences for his father, his misery stained him a little darker.
The inactivity was practically killing him, and I died a little every night just to make sure he kept breathing.
Arthur was competent—a skilled, capable criminal with an organization that typically took governments years to take down properly.
Lucky for us, I didn’t care much for protocols and bullshit red tape.
I cared for Sebastian… and taking out the man who’d hurt him.
“Forever.”
My baby wouldn’t have to pretend for much longer, and for every piece he lost during this process, I gave him one of mine.
“Sweetheart, I’m—”
Thud.
His backpack fell to the floor haphazardly, the contents spilling across the stained carpet. One foot in front of the other, he stalked toward my desk, jaw twitching hard enough to punch through skin.
“Sebastian?”
Lips parting, he struggled to speak, and a harsh growl ripped through the depth of his chest when he slapped his palms against the surface of my desk and thumbed through all my files.
“Whatever you’re looking for, baby, you can have.”
You can haveeverything.
The gray in his eyes darkened to a cloudless, midnight sky. One by one, his features pinched together, and he mumbled something under his breath before reaching for a pen.
Fingers flexing, he popped each of his knuckles before wrapping them around the curve of the pen. Sebastian used the tip to flip open a file, acting as though the papers inside were riddled with poison and seasoned to kill.
Slashing sounds touched my ears when he made aggressive, uneven strokes against the pages. When the pen touched the name of the patient, Sebastian pressed so hard, his knuckles whitened and ink bled across the page, blurring the name.
He made a satisfied sound, flipping the file closed with a smack of his lips. There was a bounce in his step when he flicked it off the edge of my desk and watched as it dropped into the trashcan below. The pen was tossed next, and when he caught sight of the ink staining his palm, he smeared it down the leg of his jeans.
I cleared my throat. “Do you… have a problem with Dimitri, sweetheart?”
He nodded.
My pulse jumped. “Has he hurt you?”
Sebastian shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again. I followed his eyes as they touched my chest and then the door.
Ah.
“You don’t like that he’s my patient.”
His thumb lifted in a half-hearted thumbs up, lips thinning as he walked around my desk and plopped his ass right on top of it. The soles of his shoes settled on either side of my chair, finding a home against the armrests. Looping his ankles around the handles, he gave a light tug until the distance between us was nonexistent.
His muscles vibrated beneath my palms when I wrapped them around his inner thighs and rubbed them up and down.