Chapter 4
OXLEY
He looks so small. I’m concerned about his color. On the shelf behind the bed, I have the medical dictionary open so I can monitor all his vitals on the machine, making sure that they stay where they’re supposed to. But it tells me that his color should be better by now.
Mark says his body has gone through a lot of stress and needs some time to heal. I managed to staunch the flow of blood reasonably quickly, and he hadn’t been without food and liquid for long—assuming he generally eats regularly—so he didn’t get emaciated. But he just looks so… thin.
How am I going to get him to get healthier when I have to feed him this stuff that has very little fat?
I watch him for a long time before turning off the light next to the bed. Like a creep, I watch him in the shadows for a while longer. But I can’t help it. My fingers itch to touch his cheek. His soft skin. He’s pretty.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I step out of the bedroom before I answer it.
“How did the operation go yesterday?” Arath, my brother, asks.
I pause in the living room, looking into the dark night. It’s not entirely dark since I’m right on the outskirts of Anaheim, and the light pollution is a huge problem, but the sun is down completely, leaving the moon to cast her enchanting glow across the world.
Yesterday. Has it only been a day? Just over twenty-four hours? “I don’t know,” I admit.
He doesn’t respond right away. “What do you mean?”
“There was a guy, and he’d been shot,” I explain. “I… took him away from the scene.”
“To the hospital. And you didn’t return? You haven’t checked in?”
He’s right to be surprised, and maybe a little irritated. I didn’t check in! Fucking hell, have I become that distracted?
“I didn’t,” I answer.
Arath doesn’t speak for another minute. “Why?”
Simple question. Why? “I brought him home. He was hurt and needed medical attention, or he’d lose his leg.”
I can tell by the continued pauses that my brother isn’t entirely sure what to make of me or what I’m telling him. After another beat passes, he asks, “Why did you bring him home? If he was that injured, you should have taken him to the hospital.”
“I don’t have a reason I can give you,” I say, sighing. “I don’t know.”
And again, another beat. “I see. Is he stable?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
I pause to think about it and then laugh. “I didn’t ask him his name, I guess.”
Arath chuckles. “Oxley,” he sighs. I can see him shaking his head.
Arath has always been patient with me. More so than most people.
Even when he gets frustrated, it’s never expressed in a way that hurts me.
Doesn’t matter if it’s just a ‘quirk’ or something like this, he’s always so patient and understanding. I’ve appreciated that over the years.
Though admittedly, I don’t think I’ve abandoned my team and gone silent before. And I definitely haven’t ever brought a stranger home.
“How long will you be out?” Arath asks.
I chew the inside of my lip. “I don’t know. He can’t walk yet. I can’t leave him if he can’t walk.”
Anyone else would point out that I should bring him to the hospital, where he belongs. Arath doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Keep me posted. I’ll send you more tracking reports if you feel you can concentrate on them.”
“Yes. He sleeps a lot.”
“I’ll ask Kairo to take over your teams for a bit.”
I nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Keep me posted, Oxley.”
“I will. I’m sorry I fucked up, Arath.”
“You’re fine. Just remember what we’ve always agreed on. Communication. I have your back, brother, but I need to know what’s going on.”
I nod again, wincing at my failure. “I will. Sorry.”
“Go take care of him. Call me later.”
“Yeah. Later. Bye.”
We hang up, and I stare at my phone for a minute.
I didn’t check in with my team! Did they think I was dead?
Surely someone must have seen me leave, or Arath would have called sooner than the next night.
We were supposed to have a debrief today, something I always call for.
This is likely what sent up the alarm, and someone called Arath.
Kairo is going to be an ass about it. Maybe I should block his number for a while.
I glance at the single photograph sitting on the mantle of me and my brothers.
Our oldest brother is Jalon, then there’s a fourteen-year gap before Arath, me, Kairo, and Noaz were born, no more than thirteen months between us.
I often wonder why there was such a time span between Jalon and Arath, but I’ve never bothered to ask. It never really mattered.
By the time I was ten, Jalon already had a house full of kids.
Strange little gremlins. I adore them all.
There are only three years between Jalon’s oldest, Myro, and our youngest sibling, Noaz, and only nine years between Noaz and Jalon’s youngest, Loren.
It makes for a very interesting family mix when we get together.
Especially considering that we’ve all remained in the family business, where there’s a little something for everyone, both legal and not-quite-so legal.
I’ve always appreciated Arath growing up. He and Kairo are as opposite as people can get when it comes to dealing with me. Kairo has no patience at all, and Arath could wait a year if that’s what I needed. Like right now, I need time.
I head back to the bedroom and stand in the doorway. His monitor is peaceful. Rhythmic. Just how they should be. The lamp on my desk is still on, though dim. Since I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself right now, I go back to my desk and work.
I’m not entirely productive since I can’t stop thinking about the man behind me. Asleep. Shot. His scream. The fear that rushed through me when I heard it!
That’s why I responded. It was his scream. Not that I haven’t heard screaming before. Yesterday, there were many other people screaming and running for cover from the gunshots. But my brain homed in on this man’s. My eyes locked on him as if I’d known right where he’d be.
Nothing else around me truly registered after that. I ran, probably risking my life, through the street until I was crouched beside him. Watching him bleed. His scream still echoing in my head. The way he fell, the terror on his face.
My thoughts halt when I hear the bed rustle behind me. After a second, it quiets, but it isn’t long before he moves again.
Setting down my pen, I turn to look at him. Is he uncomfortable? What can I do about that?
“Ox?” he asks.
“Oxley. What’s wrong?” I get up, standing at the side of the bed to look at him. “Do you hurt?”
He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his perfect lips. “No. Why are you still awake?”
“Did I wake you?”
“You didn’t, no. But your light keeps waking me.”
“I’m sorry.” I turn back and shut it off, plunging us into darkness. There’s a nightlight in the hallway that offers a little glow. Otherwise, there’s nothing.
“This is your room, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.” I match my tone to his. Keeping our voices low, as if we’ll wake up the dead if we speak too loudly.
“Why didn’t you put me somewhere else?”
“I’m close by in here,” I tell him. “In case you needed something.”
I can make out his face now, but just barely. I’m not good at reading someone’s expression on a good day—people are confusing—but I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“You can sleep next to me,” he says, his voice even quieter.
A chill runs through my body, but in a good way. Nodding, though I’m not sure he can see it, I round to the other side of the bed. I’m about to climb in when he says, “No, wait. Not in your street clothes! Gross.”
I grin, though I’m not sure he can see it. I’d have gotten up once he was asleep and changed. Whatever his revulsion at the idea, I’m betting mine is stronger. I wasn’t about to actually get under the covers in my day clothes.
“Please tell me you aren’t one of those heathens who wear street clothes to bed,” he says, appalled.
I laugh. “No. I’m not. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He sighs. “I won’t be. No matter what you wear.” A second later, he adds, “Or don’t wear.”
I head to the closet and change, then take a minute in the bathroom to go through my nightly routine. He’s still awake when I climb into bed, trying to keep some distance between us, so I’m not crowding his personal space.
He shifts. Do I imagine that he gets a little closer?
“Good night, Ox,” he murmurs.
“Oxley,” I correct. “Good night.”
I’m not entirely sure I’ll fall asleep being this close to him. In the dark, I can only barely make out his shape and the basic features of his face. I know when he’s fallen asleep because his breathing is even and his heart monitor is steady.
I stare for a long time. But eventually, I fall asleep too.