Page 36 of Pit Stop

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

MAVERICK

The weeks apart from Skye were a nightmare.

One I couldn’t wake up from. After the bond was broken, I was physically ill.

It hurt to touch him, to know what I lost. So I didn’t.

For days after arriving home, I slept, tossing and turning, fighting off a fever.

The ache was excruciating inside of me. But it eventually subsided enough for me to get up and go to work.

Everyone there knew what had happened. Hushed whispers followed me throughout the day. Poignant, sad looks. They knew what I’d lost. They knew how much it had cost me.

All of them knew about my crush on Forest’s brother. Some knew even before I did. They recognized it in the way I’d watch him, in the way I often spoke about him.

And then when I showed up last week, looking like a wreck, they knew it was over.

I didn’t talk about it, though. I just lived with it, working until I couldn’t stand up straight. Working until my muscles screamed and my eyes hurt. When my uncle found me passed out between shifts, he sent me home for an extended break. Two days off.

I went wild.

My bones were cracking, my vision whiting out. I spent ages running through the trees, trying like hell to expel some of the energy inside of me. It didn’t work. Skye was more present than ever.

He was everywhere I looked. In my mind, in the sky, in the dirt beneath my feet.

At one point, I thought I was actually shifting. The wolf inside of me roared. I felt it viscerally, but it never happened.

I’m glad too. I don’t know if I’d have been able to go back to being human. I think I’d have lived as a wolf. To escape the feelings of loss. To escape the pain.

I wanted to give Skye space, wanted to let him live. There were so many times I wanted to drive to him, to talk, to hold him. To make love to him.

But I didn’t. He was clear about what he wanted. He let me know in his silent way.

And now he’s suffered for it. He’s ill. So fucking sick. When I saw him across the parking lot, I almost fell over. He’s here , I rejoiced. But then I realized he was not well. That he was falling. That he was breaking.

Maybe it’s the shifter inside of me, that hidden part that was given to me by my dad, that allowed me to heal more quickly. To persevere when Skye has succumbed. I don’t know. But it seems I’ve handled it better than he has.

I still ache. I hurt.

But I’m mostly okay.

I could rip Rob’s head from his shoulders for standing between me and Skye, for keeping him from me—from my mate, no matter what he’s called now. No matter what he is.

He’s mine.

Damn him for just showing up with Skye. My Skye-light.

Fuck, he’s so thin and frail, slowly falling apart. Much like how I feel at the moment. Much like I’ve felt for the past few weeks. I need to make sure he’s okay.

I hop on my motorcycle and shove the helmet on my head, racing down the road to catch up with Rob. I know where he’s headed. He blurted it out during his rampage, trying to protect his friend.

Fucking sidepiece. What the hell?

The guy I found on the side of the road is not someone I’m fucking. I just pulled over and gave him a ride so he could get a tow from one of the guys at the shop. I haven’t fucked anyone since him .

Since he chose to break the bond.

My hand twists the accelerator, and the motorcycle picks up speed. Being near him still hurts, but it hurts more to be away from him.

To feel his absence in every corner of my chest.

I can see Rob’s car in the distance, and I go even faster. I refuse to be left out of this. I just…fuck, I just assumed he didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t call. Didn’t text. And when I tried to message, it didn’t go through.

I assumed he blocked me.

Fuck.

What if I had it all wrong?

I don’t have time to think about it as I follow them into the hospital parking lot and swing off my bike. Rob is shouting at me again, but I ignore him, knowing that I can help. That I need to help.

Skye looks terrible as he pushes the car door open. He looks so, so frail.

Like he’s been sick for weeks without help.

“I’ll take him,” I grunt as I move Rob out of the way and bend down to grab Skye from the front seat. It’s hard to do when he’s limp and Rob is kicking at my legs.

But I manage to get him into my arms. He’s lighter than he was when I was with him. Has he not been eating? Sleeping? Taking care of himself?

No, it seems he hasn’t.

We should never have broken that bond. I should have fought harder.

I should have fought for him.

But I didn’t want to tie him down. I didn’t want him to feel stuck with me.

“Let go of him,” Rob barks, but I ignore him, striding toward the doors.

“You should listen to him,” Skye says as he presses his face into my chest and inhales. “You should let go of me.”

Even as he says that, he holds on to me tighter.

“Fuck that,” I murmur. I let go of him once. I’m not doing it again. Or at least not until he tells me to and means it. Until he fights me for freedom.

“Mav,” he begins, but then starts coughing. That leads him into a wince of pain, and I start to jog. When we move through the automatic doors and into the emergency room, a nurse greets us.

“What are you here for?” she asks calmly, peering up at me.

“He broke a bone. Needs setting.”

“Right. Can’t have you waiting for that. Back this way,” she says, guiding me down a hallway. “You both his mates?”

“No,” Rob says, and when she turns her gaze to me, I swallow, not sure what to say. We aren’t mates. Not anymore.

Apparently, I grumble this, and she frowns. “Not anymore?”

“Yeah,” I rasp, and she shakes her head.

“No wonder he’s so frail. A broken bond is a dangerous thing. Think it should be illegal, if you ask me. But legislation hasn’t been passed to criminalize it.”

I don’t say anything. We did what we did. There’s no going back.

“Right. You stay out here,” she tells Rob. Then points to me. “You bring him back. You were mates once. You care about him.”

“So do I!” Rob chimes in, but neither of us responds. I want to be with Skye. Me . I want to watch him heal. I want to take care of him while he gets better.

The nurse opens a door and guides us inside, typing something on an iPad as she does.

“Set him right here on the table. Doctor will be in soon,” she says and then leans a little closer. “I know you broke the bond, but studies are underway that suggest even though you’re no longer mates, being close to one another will help the healing process.”

My heart thumps in my chest as she exits the room, leaving us alone.

He turns his head, his eyes closed.

“Skye,” I breathe, and he lets out a trembling breath.

“Please don’t say my name. Please.”

“I have to. I can’t help it.”

He lets out a choked sob.

“You should be with your man, your new toy.”

“He wasn’t a toy…gods. I gave him a ride to the shop. His car broke down. I don’t even know his fucking name. And I hope to never see him again.”

Skye’s eyes open, blinking at me from behind his smudged glasses.

I gingerly slide them off his face and clean them on the end of my shirt before helping him put them back on. There. Now he can really see me. He can make out how earnest I am about it.

“You haven’t moved on to someone new?” he asks, wetting his dry lips.

“No. Of course not.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

Skye blinks at me, processing it. “But you blocked me. I couldn’t contact you.”

That pulls a growl out of me. “I didn’t fucking block you. You blocked me.”

His eyes widen, and a tear trickles down his cheek. He doesn’t even swipe it away, just lets it disappear into his neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you blocked me. I tried to call you, text you, and it didn’t go through. I wanted to check in.”

“Same,” he breathes. “Oh gods. I didn’t block you. I swear it.”

“Shit. And I didn’t either.”

He sniffles and his lips curl up in relief before falling once more. “But who did that to us?”

“I don’t fucking know. Anyone could have. We weren’t watching our phones when we were at the shifters’ place. They could have done it to fuck with us. Ten and Jex seemed like the kind of assholes who’d do that for fun.”

“Or it could have been Forest,” Skye adds, but I shut him down.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“We don’t know that. He could have.”

“He has no reason to hurt us. No fucking reason.”

Skye shrinks back and nods, turning his gaze to the wall.

“Fuck. Skye. You’re unwell,” I finally say, and he nods.

“I ache. Everything hurts. It hurts to breathe.”

“Me too.” I shift closer to him and reach out, touching his hand. He winces slightly, but his fingers still tighten around mine.

“You look fine,” he replies, his gaze moving to me, roving across me almost hungrily. Fuck, that stare. The way he looks like he wants to devour me.

My cock stirs for the first time since we broke the bond. I haven’t been able to get hard, haven’t even wanted to. Everything reminded me too much of him. Of what we had, what I had, and what I lost.

“I’m not fine,” I finally say. “I don’t feel like it, anyway.”

He wets his lips again, and I squeeze his hand, wanting to lean forward and rub my face against his neck, but before I can, the doctor comes in, interrupting us.

“Well, well, seems we have a broken shoulder, yeah? Gotta get that set for ya before things get worse. Let’s get an X-ray to see what I’m working with.”

It’s a quick procedure. When the X-ray is done being processed, the doctor shows us the break and how he’ll fix it. And then with a twist of his wrist and a shocking snap, Skye’s arm is set and wrapped in a sling.

It was a lot less dramatic than I thought it would be.

“Now, you need someone to watch after you for the next few hours. If any numbness is present, come back in immediately,” the doctor says.

Skye nods, and so do I, and then I’m helping him off the table, my arm snaking around his waist, pulling him into my side.

“And the nurse said something about toxic unbonding. I suggest you two spend time together to help the body process it. It needs time. A recovery of sorts.”