The Four Horsemen 4 - Death by T.A. Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

shrugged. “True, but my train derailed a long time ago. Not sure it’s worth the effort getting back on the path of normalcy.”
Snorting, the man bent and offered Pierre a hand. “There’s no such thing as normal, honey.”
He blinked but took the man’s hand. Pierre found himself standing upright for the first time in what had to be a week or so. The room whirled around him, and his stomach heaved. God, it would suck if he threw up since he was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten anything in just as long. He leaned into the man and felt him stiffen.
“Sorry. I probably smell like a garbage dump,” Pierre apologised before he tried to move away.
“My name is Death, and yes, you do reek to high heavens. There’s no way you’re going to be able to make it to the bathroom on your own, so I’ll deal with the smell.”
Death forced him closer again, and Pierre found he didn’t have the strength to argue. Not that he wanted to anyway. The warmth radiating off Death called to Pierre at some deep, visceral level. All Pierre really wanted to do was snuggle close and soak up the man’s scent and realness.
Yet how did he know the man was real? How did he know anything happening to him was real? It could all be a long-term hallucination brought on by the bad heroin he’d got.
“Are you real? What kind of name is Death? Didn’t we meet before?” Pierre’s tongue ran with all the questions.
As they walked from the living room to the bathroom, Death didn’t say anything, and Pierre wondered if it was because he held his breath against the stench rolling off Pierre. If he had the energy, he’d be totally embarrassed, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mortified. He’d wait until he could think clearly for that particular emotion.
Pierre propped himself on the counter while Death got the water going. It was only when Death turned to stare at him that Pierre realised he was naked. He glanced down and winced.
“Where’d my clothes go,” he demanded.
“You weren’t wearing any when I arrived, and I didn’t have time to dress you. I’ll bring some of my clothes for you to wear.” Death motioned to the steaming bathtub. “Get in whenever you want. I imagine a bath would be easier for you than a shower. Less having to stand, and you’re not as likely to hurt yourself from falling or anything like that.”
“Okay.” He climbed into the tub cautiously, not wanting to slip or do anything to give Death another reason to be disgusted with him.
He settled in the hot water, cringing at the burning sensation as his skin started turning red. There was a bar of soap and a washcloth on the side of the tub, and he snatched them up. It was amazing Death hadn’t thrown him into the gutter or an alley when he’d found him like the rest of the trash.
Pierre glanced up from his scrubbing while Death returned to the bathroom, holding a few pieces of clothing. He watched as the other man set them on the counter next to the sink.
“They’ll probably be too big for you, but they’ll work for now. Eventually you’ll need to call the hotel, have them pack your stuff and send it here.” Death started to leave.
“Wait.” Pierre bit his lip as Death shot him a glance over his shoulder. Something about the man made Pierre hesitant to ask him any questions. “Where did you find me? Was I wandering the streets or something?”
Death braced his shoulder against the doorframe and tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks, bringing Pierre’s attention to the intriguing bulge under Death’s zipper. Swallowing hard, Pierre jerked his gaze away as desire rushed through him. Unfortunately, the drugs kept him from getting a hard-on, or maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t show how attracted he was to his rescuer.
No way would a guy like Death want a whoring druggie like Pierre. It didn’t matter that Pierre came from a rich family and had somehow managed to make his way through university for a degree. For most people, all they saw