Page 17

Mika

T he trip home is grueling, but Gabe’s determination turns the long haul into something close to a race. By the time we hit Shasta’s town limits around nine in the morning, I feel every mile rattling in my bones. Gabe doesn’t let up, driving straight to the little hospital that serves Shasta and the surrounding area. The sight of Adam standing out front punches me square in the chest.

Adam looks like hell. His hair’s a wreck, his eyes are sunken with dark shadows beneath them, and his mouth is drawn down, making the pale lines around it stand out starkly. The dried blood staining his clothes finishes the picture, and I have to swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat.

“Goddamn, Mika,” Gabe mutters, and I can hear the shock in his voice as he reaches across the seat to grab my hand. I squeeze his fingers, grounding us both before we step out of the truck. Gabe doesn’t hesita te to approach Adam, and I follow, my gut twisting at the sight of the man.

When Gabe reaches him, Adam looks startled for a moment before Gabe pulls him into a hug. The move surprises me, too, but only briefly. Gabe has a heart so big it’s sometimes hard to comprehend, and if someone he cares about is hurting, he’s going to do something about it. My jealousy flares briefly—ridiculous, considering the circumstances—but I shove it down, knowing Gabe would never cross any line.

Adam holds on to him like he’s about to shatter, a ragged sob escaping as he buries his face in Gabe’s shoulder. Watching them, I feel useless. My hand comes up almost on its own, settling on Adam’s shoulder in what I hope is a comforting gesture. I’m not sure it helps, but it’s all I can manage right now.

“How’s Todd?” Gabe’s voice is steady but soft as he pulls back from the hug. He studies Adam with sharp eyes. “You, uh, look like hell, Doc.”

Adam’s lips twitch in what might have been an attempt at a smile if he weren’t so wrecked. “Still unconscious,” he says, his voice hoarse. “But the MRI didn’t show any brain hemorrhaging. That’s…something, at least.” He runs a hand over his face, smearing dirt and dried blood. “He’s damned lucky he didn’t end up with a punctured lung and a crushed skull.”

There’s a haunted look in Adam’s eyes that has me wondering just how bad things were when he found Todd. It’s clear this isn’t just medical detachment—something deeper has gotten under Adam’s skin. Something personal, and I wonder what happened between them during the few days we’ve been gone.

Gabe looks down grimly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Good. That’s good. You staying with him?”

Ada m’s head jerks up like he’s surprised by the question, but then he nods. “Yeah. I couldn’t just…” He trails off, looking down at his hands, his shoulders slumping. “As for me looking like shit, I stayed up here and stayed awake so I could keep an eye on Todd. His parents stopped by, and I, uh, well, they seemed suspicious. Of me. Being here.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, not to me, but I know it matters to Todd.”

Gabe steps closer again, his voice firm. “That’s exactly where you should be. And thanks, Adam. For looking out for him. For being here.”

Adam exhales a shaky breath, and for the first time since we arrived, his eyes meet mine. I don’t miss the plea there, unspoken but clear. Whatever went down, it’s carved into him, and I wonder how much of this mess he’s blaming on himself.

“What happened with his folks, Adam?” I ask, my voice low but thick with concern. I already know it can’t be good. Gabe’s mentioned before how Todd’s parents are abusive, judgmental, self-righteous zealots.

Adam starts to turn, like he’s heading back into the hospital, but then he stops. He pivots on his heel, facing us again, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “What happened? Hell, I don’t even know for sure. They took one look at me, and Todd’s mom went off —ranting about hell and damnation.” He throws his hands up like he’s trying to physically shake off the memory. “I don’t get it. Why the hell would she assume anything just from looking at me?”

I glance at Gabe, raising an eyebrow. “I guess he has no idea how clearly the emotions he’s feeling are written all over his face.”

Gabe snorts softly, nodding in agreement. Yeah, Adam’s about as subtle as a neon sign when it comes to his feelings for Todd.

Adam sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face before continuing.

“ And she didn’t stop there. Oh no. She went on this whole tirade about you, Gabe. Apparently being gay is contagious, and Todd caught it from you.” He shakes his head, lips curling into a grimace. “She ranted about your grandparents, summers, ‘dirty little boys’. The whole fire-and-brimstone package.”

I can’t help it—I snicker. It slips out before I can stop it, and Gabe’s elbow jabs me in the ribs, sharp enough to make me grunt. Yeah, I deserved that one.

Adam watches us with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he’s grateful for the tension breaking, even if just for a second.

“I don’t understand how people can be so cruel, especially family. All Todd wanted was for them to love him.”

Gabe’s expression shifts, softening as he speaks. “His parents are a lot like mine,” he says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself. “He’s been too worried about them disowning him to come out of the closet. But, you know, I’ve always thought…if someone loves you, they love you whether you’re gay or straight—parent, friend, even God.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with truth. Adam and I both nod, because what else is there to say? Gabe’s right. He’s always right when it comes to this kind of thing.

We fall into step, heading toward the hospital entrance. The automatic doors hiss open, and we slip inside, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glare over everything. The place smells like disinfectant and something faintly metallic—blood, maybe, or just my imagination running wild.

Keeping our voices down, we make our way through the quiet halls. When we reach Todd’s room, we pause, exchanging silent glances. The sign clearly says one visitor at a time , but none of us care. Rules like that don’ t mean much when your friend’s lying in a hospital bed, bruised and broken.

When we step into Todd’s private room, the sight of him makes my breath catch. His face is swollen and bruised, tubes and wires connecting him to machines, and bandages covering God knows what injuries. It’s a lot to take in. Gabe freezes, and the tension in his body ratchets up until it feels like it’s going to break.

“Gabe,” I call softly, stepping closer. His eyes are locked on Todd, his expression a storm of anger and pain. “Gabe,” I say again, but he doesn’t respond. It’s as if he doesn’t hear me.

The intensity of his emotions burn through our link, slamming into me like a physical force. My wolf stirs, agitated and ready to fight. I step in front of Gabe, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Gabe, look at me. You need to calm down,” I say firmly, even as my voice trembles under the weight of his rage. His green eyes finally snap to mine, and I see the fury there—hot, untamed, and desperate. “I can feel your anger, love. It’s burning me up. My wolf wants out, wants to protect you, to destroy whatever is hurting you. If you don’t rein this in, I’m going to lose control.” I make sure not to say this out loud as Adam has no idea of my wolf side and now is definitely not the time to let it out.

Gabe’s chest heaves as he takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering between me and Todd’s battered form. “I can’t…” he whispers, the words thick with emotion.

“You can,” I insist, stepping closer. “Right now, Todd needs us here, steady and focused. You don’t want to add to his pain.”

I feel the fight leave him slowly, his body sagging as he exhales shakily. His hand reaches up to grip my arm, grounding himself in the co ntact. “Okay,” he says, though the edge in his voice hasn’t completely softened. “Okay.”

Behind me, Adam lets out a breath he must have been holding. “Jesus, Gabe. I thought you were going to explode or something.”

Gabe rubs a hand over his face. “Just…it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

But it’s not nothing, and he’s not fine. I can feel the turmoil inside him, barely leashed. I wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him close. “You’re not alone in this,” I remind him, and he leans into me, just enough to let me know he heard.

Todd stirs faintly on the bed, a pained sound escaping his lips. Adam is at his side in an instant, checking the monitors and murmuring reassurances.

Together, we walk to the side of Todd’s hospital bed, both stunned by the extent of his injuries. Wrapping my arm around Gabe, I feel his shoulders tremble as tears slip down his face. Leaning down, he touches Todd’s arm lightly.

“You need to wake up, buddy. I know you’ve got to be hurting like hell, even if they have you all doped up. We’re going to find whoever did this, Todd.”

I rub Gabe’s back gently as we stare at the purple, swollen knot on Todd’s jaw. Gabe glances over at Adam, his voice soft but steady. “The jaw fracture must not be too severe, thank God. His jaw isn’t wired shut or whatever it is they do on those medical shows on TV.”

Adam nods, brushing a hand lightly over Todd’s unbruised cheek. “It’s a mild fracture. Gonna hurt like hell, and the swelling will take days, maybe even weeks, to go down. He’s very lucky though. It could have been much, much worse.”

Gabe’s gaze shifts to Todd’s hands, inspecting them. He seems relieved not to see any breaks, though the bruises on Todd’s forearms suggest defensive wounds. Gabe exhales heavily, his frustration palpab le. “Did the sheriff come by to..?. Well, I reckon he couldn’t get a statement, at least not from Todd.”

Adam’s face darkens with anger. “Oh, yeah. Fucking batshit insane asshole finally came by about an hour ago. Said he’d interview Todd when he could talk and told me Todd shouldn’t be surprised by what happened.” His voice rises slightly, trembling with suppressed fury. “You know, because he was hanging out with those kinds of people. A group that now apparently includes me. Not that I give a shit. Kaufman also said he didn’t find any hint of who did this. But I don’t know how hard he actually looked.”

The disgust in Adam’s voice is thick, and I can feel Gabe bristling beside me.

I place a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, grounding him, but his gaze stays fixed on Todd, as though willing him to wake up. He runs his fingers through his hair, frustration pouring off him in waves. A knot forms in my chest as I see him struggling to keep it together. The anger, the worry—it’s like it’s eating him alive. And it’s pulling at me, too.

“We need to step back, babe. This isn’t helping you or Todd,” I say to him softly through the link.

Out loud, I suggest, “We better step out before one of the nurses comes in and raises a ruckus.” Taking his elbow gently, I steer him toward the door.

The three of us leave Todd’s room and head to the waiting room. Adam drops heavily into one of the hard plastic chairs, looking like he’s about to collapse.

Gabe, ever the caregiver, steps forward. “Adam, why don’t you go home, shower, and get some rest? We can sit up here for a while.”

Adam starts to shake his head, the protest forming on his lips, but I cut him off. “No, Adam, Gabe is right. You need to take care of yourself, or you aren’t going to be much good to Todd.”

Gab e nods in agreement, his tone firm but kind. “Let us handle this for now. Why don’t you let Mika give you a ride home? Rest for a bit, then call us when you’re ready to come back. One of us can come get you.”

Adam hesitates, his eyes darting between us, as though weighing the offer. I see the exhaustion in his face, the heavy slump of his shoulders.

“You’re not doing him any good like this,” I add quietly. “Let us help.”

Finally, Adam sighs, the fight leaving him as he leans back in the chair. “You’re right. I’m no good to him like this. But you’d better call me if anything changes.”

“Promise,” Gabe says immediately, his voice steady despite the turmoil I feel radiating off him.

Adam rises slowly, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to wipe away the exhaustion clinging to him. He wobbles slightly, and I step forward, ready to catch him if he stumbles.

“You’re right, yeah,” Adam mutters. “Okay. Just for a few hours, though. I have to get Becky to reschedule all my appointments today. My vet tech took Iko to the clinic kennels last night, so y’all can pick him up after I get back, I guess.”

I don’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He wants Iko with us—hell, so do I—but keeping a restless puppy in a hospital waiting room isn’t an option.

Adam scrubs a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze drifting toward Todd’s door before finally landing on me. There’s something raw in his expression, something that makes my lungs feel too small.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as us.

I agree, clapping him lightly on the back. “Take your time. We’ve got this.”

As I guide Adam toward the exit, I glance back at Gabe. He’s watching us, his fingers twitching slightly against his knee, his mouth sets into a hard line with the effort of keeping still when I know he wants to be doing something . Anything.

I hold his gaze for a beat, hoping he hears the words I don’t say out loud. “We’ll handle this, babe, together. Together and with our friends.”

Gabe exhales, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, and gives me a small nod.

Adam and I step into the hallway, leaving Gabe to wait. I know it’s killing him, sitting here, helpless, but it’s all any of us can do right now.

And waiting? It’s the worst damn part.

The moment we step out of the truck, my wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless and ready. Something’s off. The air feels wrong, tainted with something foul beneath the familiar scents of home, of Gabe, of the dogs still in the kennels.

Gabe moves ahead of me, his steps quick and tense as he approaches the porch. His whole body is rigid, like he’s bracing for something, and I don’t blame him. His best friend was beaten here. In our home. The place that’s supposed to be safe.

I take a deep breath, sorting through the scents lingering in the air. There’s Todd, of course, but beneath that, something else. Something unfamiliar.

“I need to shift,” I tell Gabe, already pulling my shirt over my head. “I’ll catch more that way.”

Gabe looks distracted.

I press my forehead to his for a brief second, a silent promise. Then I step backward and let the shift take me.

The world sharpens as I drop to all fours, my senses flaring wide open. The stale tang of dried blood clings to the air, and beneath it, an unfamiliar human scent. It’s not overpowering, but it’s there , lingering like something rotten.

I growl low in my throat, ears pricking forward as I track it, nose to the ground. It leads away from the house, past the kennels, and toward the treeline at the end of the property.

Gabe follows behind me, careful not to disturb the ground as I move. His presence is a steady weight at my back, grounding me even as the wolf inside urges me to run, to hunt, to find who did this and make them bleed.

I stop suddenly, my nose hovering over a patch of disturbed dirt near the kennels. The scent is stronger here—Todd’s, but also something else. Someone else.

I shift back, the change fast and brutal, leaving my muscles aching. Gabe steadies me as I rise to my feet, his hands warm against my skin.

“There was someone else here,” I say, my voice rough. “They stood here, near the kennels, watching. Waiting.”

Gabe’s expression darkens. “Think they knew Todd was here alone?”

A growl slips free before I can stop it. “Feels like it. And whoever they were, they didn’t come through the front. They came from the woods.”

Gabe’s hands clench into fists, his jaw ticking. “That means they planned it.”

I don’t need to tell him he’s right. The evidence is here, lingering in the dirt, in the air, in the way my wolf still bristles, itching for a fight.

And I swear, when we find the bastard who did this—they’re going to wish they never stepped foot on this land.

Iko ’s sharp yip carries through the house, a high-pitched demand that has Gabe moving before I do. He strides to the door, opening it with a quick flick of his wrist, and I follow close behind. The little guy is already squirming in his kennel, paws scrabbling at the door in his eagerness to be let out.

As soon as Gabe unlatches it, Iko tumbles forward, a bundle of wriggling energy. He stretches, then prances toward the back door, tail wagging furiously.

“I’ll take him out and stay with him if you want to relax for a bit,” Gabe offers, his voice steady but tinged with tension. “No way am I leaving the little guy alone out there until we catch who did this.”

The protectiveness in his tone sends a surge of warmth through me.

I reach for the hem of my shirt as an idea forms. “Think I’ll shower real quick, then run you a bath. Unless you want to join me?”

Gabe’s gaze flickers to me, and just like that, heat coils between us. It’s instant, undeniable. His pupils darken, his lips part, and yeah—I can practically smell the shift in his arousal. My cock twitches in response, straining against my jeans, and I swear I see Gabe’s throat work as he swallows.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice low, rough.

I smirk, already knowing how this is going to go. “Good. So, shower, bath…and then I’m going to bend you over and eat your tight ass before I fuck you senseless. Sound like a plan?”

Gabe groans, the sound thick and needy. That’s all the answer I need.

I step in close, grab two handfuls of his perfect ass, and pull him flush against me, grinding our cocks together through layers of his denim. His breath stutters, and the scent of his arousal spikes, filling my senses until it’s all I can do not to strip him right here.

But I want to take my time with him tonight.

I n ip at his neck, right where his pulse pounds, and grin against his skin when he shivers. “Don’t take too long, mate.”

Then I release him and head inside.