Page 6

Shit.

At the same instant he realized the bear was awake, his body caught on to him trying to stand. Unfortunately, his legs didn’t get the memo, and they buckled. The door opened just as the large hand became two and he was swept up carefully into strong arms.

“Hey, be careful,” a deep voice rumbled through the ice picks, soothing the stabbing pain behind his eyes as he squeezed them shut, his stomach roiling. He turned his head into the warm body holding him. “Hit the lights, Riley.”

The room dimmed. “Lay him down, Zack.” That must be Riley. Mo tensed, getting ready for the movement, but Zack grunted and didn’t move. Riley sighed.

“Okay, you sit, and I’ll look at him from here.” He felt the big man lower himself and confusion swirled in him as well as nausea. Then he felt a light touch to the back of his head. The relief was instant, and he relaxed.

“Mr. Granger, my name’s Riley Hunter. I’m not sure what you remember of last night, but we were having a family barbeque and heard a car squealing away from the lane outside. When we went to see what had happened, we found you, injured and unconscious on the ground, and assumed the car had dumped you.”

Mo lifted his head a little experimentally, but the small ache was manageable. He thought quickly. “You know me?” Where was his wallet?

“My family has a registered foster home,” Riley continued, “and one of our sons recognized you from school. You didn’t have any ID on you.”So why hadn’t they called the cops?

“We didn’t call the cops because we wanted you to be able to make that decision when you felt better,” Riley continued, almost as if Mo had spoken out loud.

But who did that? Any normal person would call 911. Mo lifted his head some more and finally risked a glance at who held him. The man—no, Zack—was smiling and Mo had a ridiculous urge to smile back. Like he wasn’t sitting on some stranger’s lap. “I—you can put me down, thank you,” he added. Zack looked almost disappointed, but he stood again effortlessly and allowed Mo’s feet to touch the floor. He didn’t let go fully until Mo straightened and seemed balanced.

Mo turned to Riley and wondered what the hell to say. “Thank you, and yes, my name’s Lachlan Granger. I’m clearly in your debt.”

“Lachlan,” Zack said, but it wasn’t a question, almost as if he was trying out the name.

“Mo,” Mo hurried to correct him. “Lachlan was my dad.” He winced. Zack’s smile fell immediately.

“Where does it hurt? Your head?” Zack reached for his arm and his huge hand circled Mo’s wrist. “Riley?” Zack pressed without waiting for an answer.

“I’m fine,” Mo interrupted, and he was. He didn’t know how, and his memory was still fuzzy. But he had to say something. “So, it’s Sunday?” He hazarded a guess.

Zack nodded. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Mo hedged. “I must have been mugged or something. I’m afraid everything’s a little fuzzy?”Could they hear the BS?

Zack’s face softened, and he glanced over at Riley. Riley stepped away from him. “Is there someone you’d like us to call?”

“No, I suppose I need to get back. Contact the cops. See if someone’s found my wallet.”

“I’ll take you,” Zack said immediately. He nodded to the door. “There’s a door opposite that’s a main bathroom.”

“I also put a pile of clothes in there you can choose from,” Riley added, and Mo glanced down and nearly groaned. All he was wearing was a pair of boxer shorts, and they weren’t even his. Heat swept up his face.

“No one’s outside,” Riley assured him. “We were just going to have breakfast. If you don’t mind our crazy brood, would you like to join us?” Riley took a step to the door, and while Mo knew he needed to get the hell out of there and work out what the fuck had happened, but meeting what seemed to be a local family might be something too good to pass up. He glanced down at his arm and flexed his fingers. He must be going nuts because he would swear he remembered the bone cracking last night, although that was after they’d hit his head a few times, so that might not be reliable.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and headed for the door. Riley opened it and nodded to the door opposite. Mo headed for the bathroom and closed the door.

He closed his eyes as soon as he was inside. Okay, so not all families were the same. There could be a very good reason they hadn’t called 911 as soon as he’d been supposedly dumped on their doorstep. They could also easily be involved. Khloe’s murderers were clever bastards, he knew that. Maybe he should leave? Sneak out? He didn’t know these people and in the last few years, he’d found out personally how little he should trust anyone.

And what was with that big guy holding him? That was downright weird. Mo opened his eyes and sighed. Yes, it was strange, but for a few seconds it had been kinda nice. The guy had known the lights would hurt his eyes, and he’d smelled incredibly good. It had been an awful long time since anyone had touched him. He took in the bathroom and nodded to himself. He peed and washed his hands, warily glancing at his face, then doing a double-take. He stared at his familiar image. The pale skin, a little scruff because he needed a shave, his brown hair that needed a cut. His brown eyes. Even the few freckles on his nose.

And not a single bruise. Not the split lip he definitely remembered. Not the blood that had made him gag and choke on. He was healed. He took a few steady breaths and tried not to panic. He hadn’t been dropped here last night. They were lying. He’d been here for days. He must have been. He reached for the clothes folded on a chair and quickly dressed. He had to get out of here.

He whirled around and opened the door, and came to a shocked standstill, and stared at the teenager he immediately recognized because he was one of the students he assisted with English. Next to him, clutching his hand and sucking her thumb, was a little girl. “Hi Mr. Granger,” Tyler smiled, “Zack thought you might need to see a familiar face.”

The little girl took her thumb out with a pop. “And we can’t start pancakes ‘til you do.” She leaned forward. “And there’s chocolate chip and blueberries an—” She looked at Tyler.

“Banana,” he supplied.

“’anana,” she confirmed, let go of Tyler, and held out her hand for his. Mo took it because she smiled and who could resist that? Mo let her lead her down a corridor and through some double doors into a huge kitchen. All conversation stopped immediately, and Mo swallowed nervously as at least twenty people turned to look at him.