Page 7 of Sins of the Fathers
The century-old farmhouse had been purchased from someone in the large, extended King family. It sat on a couple of acres outside of Kingston, providing the privacy necessary for a family of hunters. Denny’s house and the home Dawson grew up in weren’t far away. Grady had always taken comfort in having his kin nearby, even though he wasn’t a King by blood since his father had been adopted.
In the months since he and Dawson had moved back into the old house, they had tried to keep the best of what Grady had grown up with while adding touches to make it their own. Sometimes though, like now, the too-familiar rooms brought back memories that threatened to overwhelm Grady with loss and remembered pain.
“Breathe.” Dawson’s quiet, patient voice broke Grady out of his thoughts. Dawson had come up beside him and rubbed a hand between his shoulders, soothing and calming.
“Some hunter I am,” Grady said with a sigh. “I didn’t even hear you.”
“Your instincts are just fine. You didn’t worry because your subconscious knew there wasn’t any threat,” Dawson reassured him.
Grady made a vague gesture toward the living room. “Most days, I see this as our house. But sometimes I see it the way it used to be, and it’s a bit much, you know?”
A year ago, just before Dawson came home from the army, Grady’s father Aaron was killed while on a werewolf hunt, and Grady had moved in with Denny. Grady still woke up shaking and crying out, struggling with survivor guilt.
If anyone understood, it was Dawson. They shared so much growing up together, even though for a while Dawson had been closer to Knox and Colt. That was back when the two-year age difference between him and Grady seemed like a big deal.
They had both lost loved ones. Six years ago, Ethan and Jackie, Dawson’s parents—who were also hunters—died in a suspicious plane crash. Denny took Dawson in and did his best by him.
“There are a lot of good memories here,” Dawson agreed, pulling Grady into his arms. “We played plenty of video games on the couch, shot target practice out back. But the best memories are the ones we’re making right now—together.”
Grady looked at the living room, focusing on the changes they had made. A new couch—wide enough for them both to lie down and snuggle—dominated the space, and a large braided rug in shades of rust and brown covered protective sigils carved into the aged pine plank floor. Photos of them together sat on the mantle and bookshelves, along with their combined collection of model cars and action figures from favorite movies.
“I love my brother,” Grady said quietly from the safety of Dawson’s arms. “But it’s been hard sometimes. He’s a good man with a big heart, but when Mom walked out on us, I think he always somehow blamed himself.”
“You were both just kids. That was on her, not either of you—and not really on your dad either,” Dawson replied, and Grady took comfort from the rumble of his boyfriend’s voice and the beat of his heart.
“Knowing and feeling are different. And then hunting gave Knox a way to deal with all that anger. I thought he was always trying to prove himself—not that Mom was paying any attention. But after the accident, he couldn’t hunt. I think he didn’t know who he was if he wasn’t a hunter, and he got lost trying to dull the pain,” Grady said.
“He wouldn’t be the first King or hunter to feel like that,” Dawson agreed. “And I know helping him through the last few years wasn’t easy. Uncle Denny kept me up on the basics even while I was gone. But you heard what Colt said—Knox was doing really well. We need to believe him and find out who did this.”
Grady nodded. “It just seems overwhelming.”
Dawson ruffled Grady’s hair. “Then it’s good you don’t have to do it alone, isn’t it? We’ll figure it out. And whatever’s behind it, we’ll deal with it. Take things one step at a time.”
Grady knew that Knox’s overdose wasn’t the only thing behind his mood shift. The one-year anniversary of his father’s death was coming up, bringing all the lingering grief and guilt to the surface.
“Let’s get a shower, and I’ll heat up that leftover pasta from last night. Then we can crash on the couch and watch something that doesn’t take a lot of brain power,” Dawson suggested, and Grady loved him even more for knowing exactly the right thing to do.
Dawson guided him into the bathroom and got the water hot as Grady stripped and stepped under the spray. Dawson followed him a moment later. They hadn’t had time to change after dealing with Jason’s ghost, and the water sluiced away the sweat and tension.
“Turn around.” Dawson squeezed shampoo into Grady’s hair and massaged it into his scalp. Grady’s shoulders relaxed, even as other parts of his body woke up from having a naked, wet Dawson pressed up behind him.
“Just let me take care of you,” Dawson murmured with his lips against Grady’s ear. Grady leaned back, giving his boyfriend access as Dawson carefully washed his body. A soap-slick tug to Grady’s already-hard cock made him groan before Dawson set a rhythm focused more on releasing the stress of the day than romance.
“Come for me,” Dawson urged in a husky voice that sent a shiver through Grady. “Let go.”
Seconds later, Grady spilled over Dawson’s fist, crying out with the force of his climax. His knees nearly buckled, but Dawson steadied him, angling his pliant body under the shower to wash away the evidence. Dawson held him up as he turned off the water, then helped him out and toweled him down.
“I’m not helpless,” Grady protested without any heat.
“No, you’re not. You’re a badass,” Dawson said, his tone fond. “But even badasses need TLC now and again.”
“Not fair,” Grady said. “I didn’t get you off.”
Dawson kissed him on the temple. “I’ll take a raincheck. Right now, we’ll both feel better if we eat.”
Grady managed to get dressed without assistance, and once Dawson had pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, he headed for the kitchen. Grady dawdled, not quite ready to face conversation or his own thoughts. Soon enough, the smell of tomato sauce and garlic tempted him from his bathroom sanctuary.
“Sit. Eat,” Dawson said when Grady joined him in the kitchen. Plates of steaming spaghetti awaited, along with tall glasses of water, and fresh-baked garlic bread. They sat and dug into the meal without conversation. Grady found that despite everything, he was ravenous. Judging from how quickly Dawson polished off his meal, it seemed like he felt the same.
