Page 48 of Captivated (Salvation #3)

Chapter Forty-One

Pain came first.

Not sharp, not even localized, just a dull, thick presence that lived in his bones and bloomed with every breath.

Zeeb blinked against the harsh hospital ceiling lights, his throat dry, his thoughts swimming slow and disoriented like minnows in murky water.

His body felt as if it had been dropped off a cliff.

Scratch that. Beaten with a rock and then dropped off a cliff.

He winced, and the slight movement was enough to send fire lancing through his shoulder, settling deep into his chest. His right side felt locked in a vise. The room tilted, then steadied.

The memory came next. Flashes. Shouts. Fists. Toby hitting the floor hard. The metallic taste of blood. Then the ceiling spinning above him.

I must’ve blacked out.

He’d had the weirdest dream. Nate had been there.

He turned his head an inch, enough to feel the searing complaint of his collarbone.

Enough to see the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed.

What the fuck?

Zeeb wanted to rub his eyes, as if that would confirm or deny the sight of Nate asleep, his head lolling to one side, his arms folded, his breathing steady.

It wasn’t a dream.

Zeeb froze.

He was in Boise. Wasn’t he?

He blinked a few times. Nate was there. Really there.

Zeeb swallowed, but it felt as if his throat was filled with gravel. “Nate?” he croaked.

Nate stirred, his breath catching. He blinked groggily, then straightened with a jolt.

“Hey. You’re awake.” His voice cracked with something between relief and exhaustion.

Zeeb stared at him. “What… what’re you doing here?” The question came out slow and hoarse, as if he’d forgotten how to form words.

Nate smiled, lopsided and so stupidly handsome it hurt worse than the bruises.

“I drove up yesterday.” He leaned in, his voice quieter now. “And I’m not going back.”

Zeeb’s world performed another tilt.

“What?”

“My dad and Robert worked it all out between them. I’m moving to Salvation. I’m going to work on the ranch.” And there was that smile again, bringing pure sunshine into the room. “It’s all set.”

This is a dream. Except the spike of emotion felt too real. Hope flared so suddenly it made him unable to catch his breath.

“You’re staying?” Zeeb whispered.

“For as long as Robert can put up with me.” He bit his lip. “And you, of course.”

Zeeb’s throat tightened, not from injury this time, but from the weight of something he hadn’t let himself want too much.

Couldn’t let himself want.

Then another memory speared into him, acute and intense.

“Toby…”

Nate’s face contorted. “He came off worse than you did. He’s in ICU. The doc thinks he’s going to pull through, but it’ll take a while.”

Zeeb tried to move, but everything hurt like a son of a bitch. “I need to see him.” Fuck, his shoulder was on fire, and the ferocity of it robbed him of breath.

Nate frowned. “You are going nowhere.” He gazed at Zeeb with obvious concern. “Are you in pain? I’ll go fetch the nurse.”

“In a sec.” He wanted to yell Don’t go , but he had a feeling even yelling would hurt. He shifted, wincing. “God, I probably look like roadkill.”

“You look…” Nate leaned closer still, studying Zeeb’s face with something that appeared a lot like quiet reverence. “Like someone I was scared I’d never get to see again.”

That did it.

The lump in Zeeb’s throat broke him. He managed a weak laugh, and then the next breath shuddered through him. “Idiot. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Nate’s soft smile lit him up on the inside. “Yeah. I know.”

Zeeb tilted his face up slightly. The movement pulled, but he didn’t care. He knew what he wanted, but there was no way he’d ask for it.

Nate’s breath hitched. “There’s something I should say.”

“You don’t have to say a goddamn thing,” Zeeb croaked.

“But I want to,” Nate insisted. He sucked in a breath and looked Zeeb in the eye. “I’m not good at this. People. Talking. Feeling things I’m not supposed to feel. For… for someone.”

Holy fuck.

Zeeb stared at him, his breathing labored, unable to get a single word out.

Waiting to hear where this was going.

“I was taught—” Nate’s voice cracked, and he swallowed. “Taught that someone like me deserves to be alone. That what I feel is wrong.”

The world narrowed to the space between them, electric and fragile.

“But when I’m around you,” Nate whispered, “it’s not wrong. It’s just... quiet. It’s good . And it scares the hell outta me.” He sucked in another breath as though he was drowning. “I don’t know how to do this, but I know... I know I want to try. With you.”

Zeeb’s heart hammered.

“You don’t have to know.” His voice shook. “You just gotta feel it.”

“Can… can I touch you?”

Zeeb swallowed. “If you’re gentle.”

Nate reached out, slow enough that Zeeb could see it coming, and cupped his face in both hands.

Zeeb froze, as if the slightest movement would shatter these few precious seconds.

Nate’s forehead came to rest lightly against Zeeb’s, Nate’s breath warm against his mouth, their closeness a living thing sparking between them.

“You ain’t broken,” Zeeb murmured. “You’re probably the bravest man I ever met.”

For a long moment, they simply breathed, tethered together by something fragile yet fierce. With a small, broken noise, Nate leaned in and pressed his mouth, trembling, against Zeeb’s.

At first it wasn’t even a kiss, just a breath shared between two wrecked men. Zeeb ached to slide his hand to the back of Nate’s neck, to steady himself, to ground himself.

And then— finally —Nate kissed him.

It was soft. Barely there. The world fell away, until there was only the warmth of Nate’s mouth, the certainty of his hands, the silent promise in every heartbeat.

When they broke apart, Nate pressed his forehead back against Zeeb’s, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Again?” Zeeb whispered. “Just so I know I’m awake an’ this really is happening.”

Nate smiled. “I think I can manage that.” Then his lips brushed Zeeb’s, soft as a whisper.

Zeeb let out a sigh. The kiss deepened, slow and sweet and earth-shattering. Nate made a soft sound in the back of his throat, pressing in closer, his hands warm on Zeeb’s face, holding onto him as though he was anchoring himself.

It wasn’t a movie kiss. No fireworks, no sweeping music, just the quiet exhale of two people who had spent years learning how not to want, finally letting themselves feel.

Nate drew back, and Zeeb instantly missed the feel of his hands.

He exhaled shakily. “Well… I guess you can stay.”

Nate’s grin was a joy to see. “Guess I will, then.”

Zeeb was broken and bruised, held together with gauze and morphine. But something settled inside him. Not just from relief.

From finally coming home.

Robert stared through the glass at Toby’s bed, surrounded by monitors, IV stands, and God knew what else.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Butch murmured beside him. He’d volunteered to drive Robert to the hospital. Not that he was the only one: they all wanted to see Toby, but Teague had explained the situation.

Butch had won out over the others, but it hadn’t taken long for Robert to realize there was more to the offer than giving him a ride.

They don’t want me driving. They probably think in my present state of mind, I’d crash into the back of something, or run the truck off the road.

They weren’t wrong.

Robert huffed. “Sleep is for the weak.” At least, that was what Toby said every time he fucked Robert into the early hours of the morning, until there wasn’t a drop of cum left in him, and Robert’s ass ached like a bastard.

Delicious aches that served as a reminder all the following day.

The joy of sharing his bed with a younger man.

His throat tightened. What I wouldn’t give to wake up in that bed, to discover this has all been nothing but a nightmare.

“Teague says they’ve put plates on his ribs.”

Robert nodded, his gaze fixed on Toby. “To stabilize them. So he spends less time in here.”

He wanted Toby in a bed where he could sit with him. Touch him. Hear him breathe.

I want him home.

His conversation with Dr. Ramirez that morning had been replaying over and over again in his head.

“It’s going to take a while before he can leave the hospital.

He’s had surgery and has a serious chest injury with risk of clotting, so he’ll be in ICU for a day or two.

If we deem his condition stable, he’ll be transferred to a surgical ward where we’ll work on getting him up and moving slowly.

His bruising and rib fractures will hamper this, however. ”

Robert’s chest constricted. “‘Clotting’?”

Dr. Ramirez nodded. “The impact of multiple rib fractures produces a higher risk of a pneumothorax—a punctured lung. He hasn’t sustained this, so we have to be careful of any movement.”

“Boss?”

Robert blinked. “Sorry. I guess I zoned out for a second.”

“You got nothing to apologize for. I only asked if you wanted some coffee.”

He gave Butch a grateful smile. “Thanks. I could use some.”

Butch patted his back. “Now all we have to do is hope it’s drinkable.” He walked up the hallway.

Robert placed his palms flat to the glass.

Toby Merrow, you’re going to pull through this, you hear me?

You’re coming home. Where you belong.

He’d already lost one lover. Losing Toby would end him.

Not going to give that thought room in my head.

Robert was going to keep an image of Toby locked into his mind: Toby laughing, smiling, his eyes focused on Robert’s face as they made love…

Toby, alive and vital.

Anything else was unacceptable.