Chapter Six
Wesley had woken up half an hour ago to find he was in the hospital. After the nurse had checked his vitals and talked with him for a second, the doctor had come into his room to see how he was feeling.
Seth hadn’t broken his cheekbone like Wesley thought he had. The only damage he’d suffered was a bruised kidney, but the doctor had said it was a minor bruise, which would heal on its own in one to two weeks.
He recommended bed rest during that period, but Wesley had more important problems to worry about.
Like the fact Hyett was sitting at his bedside. The guy had been there the entire six hours Wesley had slept. Maybe if he kept taking the wrong pills or was beaten up regularly, he would finally get some decent sleep.
That is not something to joke about.
No, it wasn’t. He felt bad for even thinking it.
He just wished Hyett would say something. The guy just sat in the bedside chair, either silently studying Wesley with a penetrating gaze—like the man was trying to read his mind—or lost in thought.
Finally, Hyett sat forward. Wesley’s heart raced a little faster, and the aggravating heart monitor thing snitched on him.
“If I ask you something, will you be completely honest with me?” Hyett’s deep, rich voice was starting to become a solace to Wesley, a sound that calmed him the same way the man’s touch eased his pain.
Too bad Hyett’s touch and voice couldn’t save Wesley’s life.
“Depends on what you ask me,” he answered without hesitation.
Hyett fell silent again.
Wesley wanted to beg the man to keep talking. To climb into the bed and simply hold him. He didn’t want to go back to his lonely existence.
Not after meeting Hyett.
The heart monitor beeped faster when Hyett stood then sat on the side of the bed. The plastic mattress crinkled and deflated under his bulky frame.
“Look at me.” He slid Wesley’s hands into his.
It had taken several attempts. The weight of Hyett’s gaze was like an anchor made of shame that kept dragging Wesley’s eyes downward.
They stared at each other for the longest moment. Every second felt more like an hour.
“Please say something,” Wesley begged.
He palmed Wesley’s cheek, kissed his forehead, then locked gazes again. “Do you take drugs, Wesley?”
That wasn’t the question he’d expected. Wesley thought for sure Hyett would ask about the assault. “You mean like my pain pills? I have a prescription for them.”
Though Dr. Baldwin had been lowering the dosage over the past two months, concerned they would start to have the opposite effect.
Hyett was once again studying him. The guy was going to give him a complex if he didn’t stop.
“I mean street drugs, Wesley.” He gently squeezed Wesley’s hands, but the touch didn’t comfort him. “Something you’d buy off a drug dealer.”
That felt like a double-edged question. Technically, he bought from a dealer, but it was never for himself.
“Your silence is your answer.” Hyett let his hands go and stood, walking across the room. “Could you please be honest and tell me what drugs you take,” he asked as he stared at something past the window.
“My prescribed pain meds and something for my headaches. I can even give you the name of my dealer. It’s Dr. Hendrix Baldwin. I’m pretty sure if I refer a friend, I can score some pediatric suckers he reserves for his heavy users.”
“Is this a joke to you?” Hyett demanded.
“No, it’s not. You asked me to tell you what drugs I take, and I just told you,” Wesley argued. “And I was dead serious about the suckers.”
Wesley might have been wrong scoring for his dad, but his heart had been in the right place, and he’d honestly thought they were the same kind of pills as the ones he’d taken before his insurance dropped them.
“Then what are you hiding?” Hyett asked in a pleading tone. “Why did I find you unconscious and hurt in a closet and your dad strung out on the floor?”
“Because he’s the addict, not me!” Wesley shot back, quivering.
Hyett sat next to him and held Wesley’s hands once more. “Tell me, ” he quietly demanded.
Wesley sat there and told Hyett about the insurance and everything that had happened afterward but hesitated to tell him about Morton’s visit.
If he said it out loud, the reality of his imminent death would break him.
“Don’t stop, sweetheart.” Hyett pressed his large, warm palms against Wesley’s cheeks, careful of his bruises. “Tell me what happened after I dropped you off at your car.”
Wesley’s bottom lip trembled. “I had no idea he was doing any of that,” he whispered.
“Any of what, Wesley?” Hyett looked at him in trepidation.
Swallowing, Wesley told him about Morton’s visit, about the debt, their deadline, and Seth’s assault.
Hyett closed his eyes and cursed.
“I-I don’t want to die, Hyett.” Wesley somehow managed not to break down crying, although a few tears escaped.
“You’re not going to,” Hyett said to him with conviction.
He folded Wesley in his arms, his earthy, wild, masculine scent enveloping him. He sank into Hyett and closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time in a very long while.
But the moment didn’t last. Killian and Ryker walked in, wearing huge smiles. Killian was the largest of the three brothers, but Ryker was a close second. Wesley had to remind himself they were bear shifters because they appeared so human.
“Look who finally decided to join us.” Killian’s grin grew wider as he winked at Wesley.
Hyett growled.
“Like I told you before, he’s my brother-in-law,” Killian stated flatly. “I’m going to treat him just like one of us.”
“You keep making that sound like it’s a good thing,” Ryker grumbled.
Killian tossed his hands onto his hips. “Being an Everhart is a great thing, even though the Frosts argue they’re the best.” Killian turned to Wesley. “Tell me, would you rather be with a bear shifter”—Killian flexed his massive muscles, causing Wesley to laugh—“or be with a plain old wolf shifter?”
Just as Killian had said “plain,” Hyett was shouting for him to shut up.
“Did you just say wolf shifter?” Wesley’s smile faded. His gaze flicked between Hyett and Killian, trying to process what he’d just heard.
Ryker cuffed Killian on the back of his head. “Consider yourself lucky we’re in a hospital. You’ll only have to go down a few floors to the emergency department when Hyett gives you a beatdown worthy of a body cast.”
Wolf shifters. Okay. Wesley was going to put that little nugget on the backburner. Right now, he had other, more important issues to deal with than the existence of… Backburner. Right.
A soft knock sounded on the door, and then Quinton walked in. He glanced between his sons and gave an insufferable sigh. “Who did it, and what did they do?”
Hyett, Ryker, and Wesley pointed at Killian. Wesley didn’t really want to point the finger, but it felt nice being a part of something.
Quinton grabbed the other chair and pulled it close to the bed. Wesley honestly wondered if it would hold the man’s colossal weight.
“How are you feeling, Wes?” Quinton took a seat, unaware that Wesley had stiffened.
“He despises the shortened version of his name, Dad,” Hyett said firmly.
Wesley didn’t want things to become awkward. Truthfully, he was really starting to like this family. He might as well make his last week on earth matter.
Picking at the edge of the sheet draped over him, he cleared his throat while keeping his eyes averted. “My dad used to call me that name when he was spewing vile and hateful things at me during his withdrawals.”
Wesley might as well call it what it truly was instead of telling himself his dad just needed his pills or the pain was making him that way.
It was drug withdrawal.
He still deeply loved his dad, and it hurt his heart to see him this way, but Wesley was still filled with fury and relief. Fury for causing this entire situation and relief that he’d told someone just how miserable his life truly was.
But most of all, Wesley was disappointed to know his dad had been out partying and racking up debt, while his son watched every penny just to make sure he had enough money to pay a drug dealer so his father wouldn’t be in pain.
Wesley felt like a complete and utter fool.
And now he’d been pulled into Jackson’s mess, and no matter Hyett’s good intentions, Wesley couldn’t stay in hiding forever. What was he going to do, shack up with a bunch of bear shifters?
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Quinton said. “Hearing your own name shouldn’t cause such a strong reaction.”
Hyett curled Wesley into his arms again, and although it felt wonderful, Wesley had to pull himself together. He wasn’t a wallower. He was… He honestly didn’t know anymore.
For too long he’d just been stuck.
“Killian informed Wesley wolf shifters existed,” Ryker said to Quinton. “There’s a gift shop downstairs. You wanna go in on some flowers, or possibly a wreath?”
Their dad chuckled. “I almost said the word human in front of Kalen’s mate. After living for hundreds of years, we’re bound to screw up now and again.”
The skin under Wesley’s eye twitched.
“Guess I’ll be footing the bill for two bouquets of flowers,” Ryker grumbled.
Quinton gave Wesley a playful, apologetic smile. “Oops.”
* * * *
“I’m just going to the bathroom.”
Hyett immediately stood, glaring at his family, and waited for his mate to get out of bed.
Wesley tossed the sheet aside, but he couldn’t sit up. His face pinched with pain as his hand clamped over where the guy named Seth had struck him.
Either Morton or Seth was a demon, or possibly both. Hyett was reeling from everything his mate told him. He didn’t even know Jackson, but god, he wanted to put hands on the guy for sending Wesley to a goddamn drug house once a week.
His mate was still struggling to get out of bed. Hyett understood wanting to be independent, but Wesley was in pain.
He wasn’t going to just stand there and watch. Out of the corner of his eye, Hyett saw his brothers tense, like they were ready to jump up and help if needed.
“Give me your hands, honey.” He knew his mate was hurting because Wesley didn’t object to Hyett assisting him.
“Feet on the floor,” he said as soon as he had his mate turned. “Let me know when you’re ready to stand.”
Wesley wobbled, and Quinton rose halfway from his chair. Killian and Ryker eased around to the foot of the bed, anticipation tightening their muscles.
Hyett glanced at them one at a time, silently telling them to back the fuck off. They acted as if he couldn’t handle taking one tiny human to the bathroom.
“Ready.” Wesley nodded.
“Hang on!” Killian grabbed some socks off the bed and handed them to Hyett. “Grippy socks, so he doesn’t slip.”
This was why Wesley didn’t have to worry about protection. Four men as tall as redwood trees and built like charging bulls surrounded the small human.
No one was getting to him.
Gently, Hyett set Wesley on the side of the bed then kneeled in front of him to slide the socks on.
Now their journey could continue. Wesley could manage the short walk. He was pretty steady on his feet, but no one was stopping Hyett from following him to make sure the guy didn’t need any help.
It wasn’t until his mate walked ahead of him through the bathroom door that he noticed Wesley was wearing the classic bare-ass, open-back gown.
Hyett snapped his head around to find his family staring everywhere but at the human.
They’d better keep their eyes off my mate .
It wasn’t too late to turn any one of them into a rug.
Hyett reached out to close the back of the gown and realized both of Wesley’s legs were bare.
The human must’ve really been thrown to learn that shifters lived so long and the fact wolves existed, because Hyett knew damn well his mate would have never allowed anyone to see the burned leg if he hadn’t been zoned out.
When they entered, Hyett closed the door behind them. Wesley turned, his dark brows crinkling. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Call me Nurse Hyett.” He folded his arms, towering by the door like he was a bodyguard instead of a nurse.
“I’m capable of using the —” Wesley’s eyes grew wide. His hands flew behind his back, and then they started patting his nicely shaped ass. “Everyone just saw my bare butt!” he loudly whispered.
The low growl rumbled all on its own. “I made sure they looked away.”
Factually true, even if it was at the last second.
“Did you look away?” Wesley appeared skeptical even before Hyett could answer.
He dropped his arm and stepped closer, bending with a smirk. “ You’re my mate, honey. I’m the only one who gets that privilege.” Brushing his lips over Wesley’s uninjured cheek, he whispered, “It’s the nicest heinie I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Wesley sucked in a sharp breath, and it was the sweetest sound. Hyett grinned, glad his mate wasn’t just prickles, like when they’d met. There was a vulnerable, beautiful man under the layers of anger and fear.
A few times Hyett had glimpsed the real Wesley, and he liked what he’d seen. But he wanted more than just quick peeks.
Wesley turned his head, like he was about to kiss him. Hyett jerked back.
Raw anguish filled his mate’s eyes. He twisted sideways, trying to yank the fabric of his gown over his injured leg.
“Don’t,” Hyett said firmly. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”
“Just go,” his mate insisted, the hurt evident in his strained voice. “Just get out of here!”
“No!” Hyett barked the word. “ I’m not letting you push me away, Wesley.”
“What do you care if a monster pushes you away? I’m giving you an out,” he argued.
“I want you to give me an in, damn it.” Hyett ran his hand through his hair, ready to pull out the strands. “You’re not a monster, Wesley.”
“Hideous, grotesque. Why would I think you wanted to be anywhere near it.”
Those weren’t Wesley’s words. He was reciting what someone else had said to him. “Whoever he was, this guy who—”
“He only spoke the truth.” His mate was trying to balance on one leg, the injured one pulled back in an attempt to hide what he thought was too hideous to look at.
Hyett carefully grabbed his mate and placed him on the counter of the sink. He wasn’t going to let Wesley strain himself on one leg.
“ I’ll never understand why people smile at a compliment yet cling to an insult.” Hyett curled his arms around him. “Your ex was a colossal jerk.”
Wesley twisted his lips to the side then glanced to his right.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Hyett growled softly.
“He wasn’t an ex.” Wesley refused to look at him. “He was just some random hookup six months after it happened.”
The fire. Six months after the fire.
“Babe…” He breathed out heavily through his nose. “While I am not dismissing the fact you were probably at a low point at that time in your life…” Hyett pressed his forehead against his mate’s. “Some random guy, who you don’t give a shit about, and it’s safe to bet he’s got a small dick… Can you confirm?”
Wesley shook his head. Hyett was relieved it hadn’t gotten that far. It would have been much worse to give the guy some tail and then have the jackass insult him.
“Screw what Tiny Dick said to you, babe. He’s a nobody hanging out in bars picking up guys. I bet he didn’t even pay for the room.”
Hyett had nothing against bar hookups—his sex life lived off of bar hookups—but he was just trying to prove a point.
“I actually picked him up,” Wesley admitted with a blush.
“Goddamn right my baby knows how to close a deal,” Hyett purred playfully. “But those days are over. Unless you want to pick me up in a bar. I’ll role-play with you. I’ll be the unsuspecting guy enchanted by the little vixen out to steal my heart and cock.” He wiggled his brows. “You can steal both, sweetheart.”
“That might have been fun.” Wesley looked away. “Kinda hard to do that when you won’t even kiss me.”
“Are you…” Hyett lifted his mate’s chin so they could look at each other. “All I’ve been thinking about is kissing you.”
“Then why did you pull away?” Wesley asked with knitted brows.
Hyett looked incredulously at him. “Because I refuse to have our first kiss take place next to a hospital toilet. When I want to revisit the spot where the best kiss of my life happened, I don’t want to hear some John Doe flushing it.”
“That…” Wesley looked at Hyett with a strange kind of smile. “I can’t even get mad at that. Now I’m glad you stopped it.”
And there was no rush, regardless of what his bear growled for.
What he wanted was for Wesley to heal, and not just his body. It was in his mate’s silver eyes whenever Hyett looked at him.
The weariness. Wesley was tired of the way life was beating him down even before he’d reached the young age of thirty.
His heart had been carved out by his father, causing him to build walls around it, to vehemently protect what remained.
But Wesley didn’t need walls to protect the remaining bits and pieces of his heart. He needed someone to help make it whole again.
And Hyatt wanted to be that someone.
* * * *
Three large men stood outside Wesley Miller’s hospital room, appearing like fierce bodyguards.
Terrifying sight, but that wasn’t the issue.
They kept glancing at Bailey every few moments as if they could sense what he was up to.
Or Bailey’s guilt was making him paranoid.
Wesley’s discharge was complete, so the three must have stepped out of the room to allow the guy to get dressed in private.
Bailey really hated doing this. Wesley seemed like a nice guy, but he had no choice.
He had a debt to pay off, and when Seth told you to do something, things became painful if you didn’t.
Bailey also had to keep an eye on Wesley’s dad, but Jackson Miller was currently detoxing and wouldn’t be released anytime soon.
The family appeared to have gone through enough, and Bailey felt guilty about sending the text. He didn’t want to rat on the son with those three standing there.
Their sheer sizes intimidated the hell out of him, and he felt like they would be able to read the text from twenty feet away.
Stepping around the corner of the hallway, he slipped his phone out and sent the text.