Using Cowardice
**Camden**
“You will handle Ronin’s care after he leaves this hospital, Asesino.” Slater demands when I arrive with Ronin in their shared room. Ronin is lucky he drifted back out of consciousness because of his pain meds. I wish I could do the same to avoid another one of Slater’s punishments.
“On top of taking care of the kids and Artemis, while you’re here, you expect me to take of your boy too?” I question him. “Where is Artie anyway?”
“Preston took her home to shower and change clothes.” He sighs heavily, looking twenty years older than thirty-eight. “She needs to leave, Cam. Artemis and our sons must leave us. All five of us. They will be killed if they stay here while we make our exit. You and I must die. We don’t need them caught in the crossfire of this civil war. ¿Estás de acuerdo con eso?”
“Of course, I agree with that, Slay. They are my family,” I agree. “She is going to think we are throwing her away and our sons. She may never forgive us for this.”
He shakes his head in disagreement. “She will. When we find her again, she’ll forgive us. Besides, we know where she will go.”
“Alabama,” I answer.
“Así es,” Slater agrees. “The guy she will work for is a Death King.”
“Once a Death King, the only way out is the death that separates our vines from the yellow rose of life,” I reply with the Death Kings’ credo.
Slater gives a wicked grin. “Que nuestras vides nunca se separen.”
“May our vines never be separated,” I say, translating the rest of the credo.
“With her out, you will nurse Ronin back to health. Once he is healed, we will die. Maybe I can use my failing useless heart to our advantage.”
“You aren’t possibly thinking of letting your heart die before you have a replacement?” I’m questioning his sanity on this one. I’m a psychopath, and even to me, this plan sounds insane.
“Sort of. If I get shot in the useless appendage, it will not make a difference, since it is going to be replaced, anyway. If I’m weak, I’ll be easier to kill off. You’ll be too distracted to save me. Don’t get overbearing trying to keep me in a protective bubble. I don’t want that. The sooner our enemies think we are dead, the quicker we can live our new lives.” That makes sense. I don’t like it though. Slater is mine. I want to protect him. I wonder if I could stick him in a giant round bubble. Like in that Jake Gyllenhaal movie.
“Get that thought out of your head, Mano,” Slater warns, and then groans.
“What thought?” I retort, trying to sound innocent. My smile says that I’m full of crap.
“Aye que lástame!” He pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing in pain. Yep, I’m his headache. If it isn’t me, causing this very of his face and gesture, then it’s Ronin.
I messed up stabbing the boy. I know that. I don’t feel bad about it. I just won’t stab him again because caring for him and Slater is going to be a hassle for me. It would be easier if Artemis stayed, but she and our sons would be safer in a whole other state. I glance over at Ronin, who looks even younger than his mid-twenties. Asleep with his tattoos and body covered, he looks like a sixteen-year-old boy. He is pretty. I can see why Slater is drawn to him.
An idea comes to me. When I first arrived with Ronin, Slater told me what happened. “What if we use Razz’s cowardice to our advantage? The kid works remotely anyway, so why not send him with Artemis? He can’t handle hospitals and killing, so the best place for him would be tending to our family. What do you think?”
“Si, Asesino. Es una buena idea.” I preen at him saying that my idea is good. “Text Preston to see if he can arrange that. I’m not giving up on Razz being a part of our family just because of this response to his trauma trigger. “
“Are you planning on fixing him?” I question.
Slater scoffs. “I’m not, but he will see Weston Chancler from now on. I’m sure we will both be teaching him new coping skills. Running home every time things get tough will not happen. He has us and Artemis who will help him now.”
I sigh, slumping back in the recliner between the two beds in the room. “You and your Daddy complex is becoming an issue. Do you miss being submissive at all?”
“Yo no. I’m happier being a dominant. Why do you think my uncle was more abusive to me than you? It’s because submission didn’t come naturally to me. I hated every moment.”
“But there are times…”
“Si. When I need to bottom, but that doesn’t mean…”
“Papi,” a groan sounds from Ronin. “You bottom?” he rasps hoarsely. His unique eyes search the room. “Where is everyone?”
“Preston and Artemis went home for some rest,” Slater answers.
“Razz ran away,” I finish for Slater.
“No,” Ronin counters. “He went home temporarily to center himself. When he panics, he goes home to talk through his thoughts and fears with one of our fathers. He’ll be back tomorrow. Our fathers are his safe zone.”
“Are you certain?” Slater asks doubtfully.
“Yes. When he gets overwhelmed or scared, it’s what he does. He usually calls Weston Chancler on the drive there. He will be back after getting a motorcycle running while talking with one or more of the dads.” The boy chews on his lower lip.
Slater growls at him, “Stop gnawing on your lip, Plateado. Dime que queries.”
The boy does as he is ordered. “I want to be close to you, Papi. Por favor.”
“Cam, move the beds together, por favor.” I move the bed and monitor stands until the beds are side by side. Slater had me lower the arm rails between them so they could touch.
“There boy. Now you are closer to your Papi like you wanted,” I say with a huff, sitting in the chair I moved to the foot of the beds. This way, we can still see each other while we talk.
“I’m not a boy,” he grumbles.
“Sure, you’re not,” I snort at his denial. He might not be a little like other boys I know at our local BDSM club, but is a boy, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.