Free Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago) by Dakota Trace

hadn’t done, a man who violates a woman that way deserves death. Now if he did that for a woman he barely knew, what do you think he went through when his Master and sub died?”
    “Hell,” Bryan whispered as pieces clicked together in his brain. If even half of what Easton had said was true, the situation with Hark was worse than Master had been told.
    “Exactly.” Easton stood and gazed down at him. “Hark was dark during the time I knew him and I’m sure he’s even darker now, but if for one second you think there might be a bit of that man left - under all the pain you say you saw, don’t give up on him. The man who nearly gave up his life for a stranger is worth saving.”
    * * * *
    Pulling into the drive, Diachi hit the door opener for the garage. It was just before six and the traffic on the Edens hadn't been horrible but neither had it been great. He found himself uncharacteristically off balance on the drive through and it was all because of the phone call that he'd received from Bryan while in his meeting. His submissive had left a message stating he'd settled Hark in the guest bedroom and was on his way to meet with his uncle. After promising to be home in time for supper, he'd hung up without saying he loved him. Honestly the facts hadn’t bothered Diachi as much as the tone of the message. He could hear the heavy tension in Bryan's voice. Had Hark done something, or said something that had upset his lover? If that was the case, he'd be having a stern talk with the man. With all the stress in Bryan's life outside the house, there was no way he was going to let Hark disturb the peaceful oasis of their home.
    Inside the garage, he clicked the remote again and waited for it to close. Once it was shut, he used the interior door to enter the kitchen. As he crossed the threshold, he set his leather attaché case down on the counter. The kitchen wasn’t completely dark but the living room was. He sighed and hung his car keys on the small metal key rack by the door. Hark should've heard the garage door open, but the house remained eerily silent… as if it were empty. Kicking off his loafers, he placed them on the rack next to the back door and relished the feel of the polished wooden floor against his toes. He hated wearing shoes.
    Ignoring the closed door to the basement for a moment, he decided he wanted out of his suit before he confronted his former submissive. Slipping into his room, it didn't take long for Diachi to neatly hang up his business clothing and slip into a pair of drawstring pants and a tank top. Feeling a bit more normal, he wandered out into the main area of the house. He cocked his head. Still nothing. Had the man left? Olivia had confessed her concern about Hark bailing to avoid the reality of his loss. She warned him he'd probably have his hands full trying to get through to Hark that life could still be good and worth living. So he had a choice: putt around the house like there was nothing unusual about today, or take the bull by the horns, as Bryan would say, and confront Hark.
    "Well, standing here isn't going to solve the issue, Diachi.” He rubbed the back of his neck, torn on which action to take. He knew what he wanted to do, but he’d promised Olivia he’d try to drag his former submissive back into the world.
    "I see you’re still talking to yourself. The question is, however, if you do so to find a solution, or do you just talk to hear your own voice?” The deep masculine voice came from behind him.
    Looking over his shoulder at the living area, he could barely make out the form of a large seated man. The relaxed feeling he'd had since returning home vanished as his body tingled with instant awareness. He took a deep breath and slowly turned to face his past.
    "Harkahome." The name came out huskier than he'd intended, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
    Hark leaned forward, but his face was still in the shadows. "You and Mom.” Hark seemed to study him for a