Loving Carter (True Mates #4)

Chapter 1

CARTER

Each blow that landed wrenched a cry from Carter Wilkes, and he curled into a ball to protect himself. Fiery agony pierced him when a vicious kick landed on his ribs, a loud snap echoing within Carter’s head. Breathing became difficult, and black spots danced across his vision.

“You’re nothing but useless trash!”

A boot came down on Carter’s skull, and he could only whimper now. Blood trickled from a cut lip and a broken nose.

“You fucking whore! I saw the way you looked at him! You wanted him to fuck you!”

Spittle rained down on Carter as his latest boyfriend, Darryl, screamed at him.

This wasn’t the first time Darryl had beaten his ass, but it was the worst. Carter didn’t believe he’d survive this one, even with his more advanced healing as a wolf shifter.

While they could heal from many things, critical injuries weren’t something they could recover from any better than a human could without doctor interference.

The rib bone, which felt like it had just punctured his lung, wouldn’t heal in a matter of hours.

If it healed at all, with how intent Darryl seemed on killing him for his perceived slight.

He had met Darryl a few months ago at a club an hour outside of his home in Emerald Lake Hills, California.

Carter’s parents had passed away several years before, and the only family he had was his cousin, Nick Cartwright.

Carter didn’t have many friends really, at least no one close, because they found his constant inane chatter annoying.

Most of his packmates avoided him or brushed him off and told him to get lost. Usually, Carter tried not to let that get to him.

He liked who he was and how he saw the world through the eyes of a hopeless romantic.

But those rose-colored glasses continued to drive him into relationships where the guy treated him like dirt or used him for whatever they could, usually money.

He’d been between relationships when he’d met Darryl, and his loneliness had driven him to seek comfort, someone for companionship, at least until he was lucky enough to find his true mate someday.

Darryl had been sweet, kind, and charming. He had approached Carter and asked him to dance. The entire time they’d danced, Darryl’s hands had been all over him, caressing him and making him feel good. Carter had felt Darryl’s obvious desire for him against his ass as he’d ground back against him.

The attention, the feeling of someone touching him, had gone to Carter’s head, and he had agreed to go back to Darryl’s that night.

It had been a few days after the first summit between Carter’s pack and the wolf pack they’d discovered in Senaka, Wyoming.

One of Carter’s packmates, a shifter named Seth Davies, had mated with the alpha of the Senaka pack.

Nick had also mated with someone from the Wyoming pack.

The two packs had agreed to meet in neutral territory every six months to bring their packs together, hopefully for many of them to find their true mates.

Carter wanted nothing more in the world than to find his own mate, but he’d returned from the summit depressed and disappointed, alone yet again.

So, he’d fallen into the arms of the first man to show him any affection.

The abuse hadn’t started right away. At first, Darryl showered him with gifts, texted him constantly, and called him, wanting to spend time together.

Carter loved it and had fallen for Darryl hard.

When Darryl asked him to move in with him two months later, Carter immediately—naively and stupidly—agreed.

Nick had tried to talk him out of it, but Carter had ignored Nick’s concern and done it anyway.

The first time Darryl hit Carter, about a week into Carter living with him, he’d been angry about something that had happened at work.

He’d come home and Carter had been his usual chatterbox self, blabbing on and on about his day, talking a mile a minute.

It wasn’t until he was on the floor that Carter even realized Darryl had hit him.

He’d grabbed his cheek and stared at Darryl in disbelief as Darryl had screamed at him and told him to shut the fuck up.

Of course, Darryl apologized later, swearing profusely he would never do it again.

Carter had accepted it, of course, believing Darryl really hadn’t meant to hit him.

A week later, Darryl came home to find Carter talking and laughing with their neighbor, a young man named Ben.

Carter had helped him gather some groceries where a bag had come apart, spilling things across Ben’s driveway.

That night, Darryl put Carter’s head through the mirror in their bathroom.

He’d called out sick the next few days until his injuries healed, most of which were beneath his hairline.

Darryl was so self-involved, he didn’t even notice the speed at which the bruising along Carter’s forehead had disappeared or the way the cut healed over in a matter of days.

Darryl’s abuse didn’t stop, and the pattern repeated itself until it led to the moment Carter now found himself in, a mere four and a half months after the first official summit.

The two of them had gone to dinner, and Darryl accused Carter of staring at their server a little too hard.

Now Carter lay on the floor, gasping for air. “I-I d-didn’t—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, you fucking slut!

” Darryl shouted, kicking Carter again. The toe of his steel-toed boot landed with unerring accuracy in Carter’s stomach.

Carter groaned, consciousness beginning to bleed away.

The last thing he saw before the blessed darkness took him was Darryl walking away from his slowly fading body.

Hushed voices reached Carter in the dark abyss that he floated in.

He frowned, trying to pinpoint where they came from and who they belonged to.

His name caught in his ears, and Carter tried to open his mouth to speak.

An annoying beeping sound infiltrated the void, causing an agonizing throb to rupture in his mind.

Groaning, Carter tried to beg for the noise to stop, but he couldn’t speak.

“Carter? Wake up, Carter. Please.” A whiskey-rough voice pleaded with him.

He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay where he was.

It was nice there. No pain. No loneliness.

No Darryl. Darryl! The beeping grew faster, louder.

Panic and fear rushed through Carter. The sound would surely set off Darryl, and he’d be in pain again.

He whimpered, tears seeping from under his closed eyelids.

“Carter! Thayne, go get the doctor.”

A warm hand grasped his, squeezing gently. “Come on, cuz. I need you to wake up.”

Carter slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh white light overhead. Cursing registered right before the lights dimmed. “That’s it, Carter.”

Nick’s face came into view as his cousin leaned over him, strain on his features with dark circles underneath his eyes. His hair was mussed as if he’d run his hands through it a dozen or more times. “Ni-Nick?” Carter whispered.

His throat hurt, and he winced.

“Shh, Carter. Don’t talk. Dr. Harris will be here in a minute.”

Dr. Harris? Carter frowned. “Wh-where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital in Redwood City. We had you transferred after the surgery so Dr. Harris would be the one in charge of your case and any humans wouldn’t realize how quickly you’re healing from your injuries and the surgery.”

Carter blinked. What did Nick mean? “Surgery?”

Nick swallowed audibly and brushed Carter’s hair back from his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Carter. I knew Darryl was bad news. I should have stopped you from moving in with him.”

Before Carter could try to ask anything else, totally confused and lost on why he was in the hospital, a man in a white coat entered the room in a hurry, followed by Nick’s mate, Thayne.

He recognized the man, Oliver Harris, a packmate.

There weren’t many shifters who needed the interference of a doctor in their life, but Oliver and a couple of others in their pack had become doctors for those times where they would need outside help to heal.

Oliver came to the bed and immediately started checking over Carter. “How are you feeling, Carter?”

“Throat hurts,” Carter rasped.

“To be expected. Nick, could you grab some ice chips for him while I finish my exam? Don’t want to put too much on his stomach right now.”

Nick went to stand, but Thayne used a hand on his shoulder to press him back into his seat. “I’ll get it,” Thayne said and left the room again.

“You gave everyone quite a scare,” Oliver said, flashing a light in Carter’s eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” Carter asked, frowning.

“You don’t remember?” Oliver asked.

Carter shook his head and then groaned. Oliver glanced at Nick.

“Well, you sustained quite a severe trauma to your brain, so amnesia isn’t unlikely at this point.

You were brought to the emergency room at Dignity Health Sequoia Hospital in San Carlos with several injuries.

Bruising, a cracked rib, a punctured lung, a severe cerebral hemorrhage that caused swelling in your brain, and a broken nose.

We had to repair the damage to your lung and brain and set your nose.

You’ve been in a coma for the last week. ”

Horror flooded Carter. “How?”

Oliver glanced at Nick, who sat forward and gripped Carter’s hand again. Anger flooded Nick’s features. “Deadman-walking Darryl. The son of a bitch beat the hell out of you. Your neighbor called the cops when he heard your screams.”

Flashes of Darryl yelling at him and the steel-toed boots slamming into him trickled through Carter, and he whimpered. “Shh,” Nick crooned. “It’s going to be okay. He’ll never touch you again. I swear it.”