Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-seven
DAVE
Dave had insisted he could pack his own stuff, but Christian disagreed.
“Not with that ankle,” he said. “You need to rest it.”
And honestly? There was something nice about watching Christian move around the room, gathering Dave’s things. Made him feel cared for. Cherished, even.
Right up until… “You’re folding my socks,” he said from the edge of the bed, eyeing Christian suspiciously.
“I am,” Christian agreed. “You’re welcome.”
“You never fold your own.”
“I’m trying a new thing. It’s called being helpful.” He glanced over. “Don’t make it weird.”
Dave snorted. “It’s already weird.”
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, Dave cramming the clothes Christian gave him into the bag on his lap.
“I messaged Tristan after booking the flight,” Christian said, tossing Dave’s teabags at him like a man dealing with hazardous waste. “Reminded him to use that balm on Diablo’s hooves.”
“I hope he’s keeping those goats under control—I can’t see that ceasefire lasting. Diablo’s always hated them.”
“Told him if they eat his saddle blanket again, I’m eating them.”
Dave grinned, Christian grinned back, and their fight felt like it’d happened a long, long time ago. This new thing between them felt like permanence. Everything else lay in the past, forgotten. And forgiven.
“You’re really okay going home?” Dave asked, after a moment. Because what was between them was different now, but nothing had changed back at the ranch. Except for Christian. Maybe he’d changed, and maybe that would be enough.
Christian looked at him, before reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair behind Dave’s ear. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”
Dave didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he reached for Christian’s hand and gave it a short, awkward squeeze. They didn’t really do that kind of thing, but something not unlike a smile showed in Christian’s eyes. As if he didn’t actually hate it.
“And anyway, I figure anywhere’s good if I’ve got you,” Christian added.
Dave glanced down at their hands. “Even with the tea?”
“Even with the tea,” Christian said. He didn’t let go right away, his thumb brushing over the back of Dave’s hand like he couldn’t quite help himself.
The way Dave had always wished for, always hoping Christian would somehow claim him when they were out somewhere together.
Not in a possessive way, just to let people know they were together. Instead of which, Christian had…
Dave drew a deep breath because he knew he needed to say it. He just wasn’t sure how Christian would take it.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, and his voice came out sounding like he was about to announce a death. Maybe he was. Maybe he was asking for too much.
Certainly, Christian stiffened, his eyes on Dave’s face suddenly alert and worried.
“I hate how you let people flirt with you in front of me.”
It came out in a tangled rush, and Christian took an agonizingly long moment to pick the words apart.
Once he had, he shrugged. “Then I won’t do it,” he said, without a hint of reluctance. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it was—maybe Dave had made it harder than it needed to be.
As his gaze lingered on Dave’s, Christian’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I was hurting you, and I didn’t even know.”
“Because I didn’t tell you,” Dave said swiftly. “You asked, I just couldn’t say it.”
And before they could get into a circle of who could blame themselves the most, he nudged Christian’s arm. “Doesn’t mean you can’t flirt with me,” he pointed out.
Christian’s lips tugged up in a smile. “Flirting’s only fun when it’s a sure thing anyway.”
Dave huffed, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “You’re impossible.”
“Still counts if it’s with your mate, right?”
“Yeah,” Dave said, and he reached for Christian’s hand again. “Especially then.”
For a while, neither of them moved. The air felt lighter somehow, and even the faded drapes looked bright again, just in that moment.
Then Christian nodded toward Dave’s packed bag. “Figure we settle our account, and I’ll drop the truck off when I pick up my gear from the pack’s house.”
Dave glanced sideways at him, because there’d been uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice. “You think they’ll be okay about you taking the truck?”
Christian shrugged. “Doubt I’ll be the most popular person around after walking out on those fights last night, but I’ll tell them my mate was hurt and I needed to get to him. They’ll understand.”
Dave thought back to Barton, to the indefinable something in his eyes that had made him shiver. He wasn’t so sure.
“You really need to get your stuff?” he said. “Maybe we could just leave the truck here for them to find.”
“Nah, I need to make it right,” Christian said. “Can’t risk any bad blood between Barton and Matt if they ever find out where we’re from.”
Dave hadn’t thought of that.
“Guess we’d better get moving then,” Dave said. He swung around to put his feet, very carefully, on the floor, but Christian’s hand on his arm stayed him.
“You said you found out who was responsible for Jesse’s pack,” he said. “Who was it?”
That sudden threat rumbling in his voice was as if he’d switched gears, remembered what they’d found up on that cliff, and if he could make someone pay for it, he would.
“Tristan sent me a photo of someone Matt already suspected,” Dave said. “I don’t know who he was, but he must be Council-related to have been at the ranch. Justin recognized him. Said he was here and asked him questions about the pack on the cliff in the days before they were—well, you know.”
Somehow, it had gone from something terrible that had happened long ago to feeling so much more real and present now they’d seen where the pack used to live, to love, where Jesse used to play. And where they were buried.
Christian, too, was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, Dave realized he’d been thinking about something quite different from Dave.
“He recognized a guy from that long ago? And that guy just happened to have asked questions of the one person you showed that photo to?”
Dave opened his mouth to reply, then he thought about what Christian had said.
“A bit convenient, isn’t it?” Christian added.
“I mean, when you put it that way,” Dave admitted. “But you didn’t see him—he was cut up as hell about it. It wasn’t just a story he was spinning, I’m sure of it.”
“You trust people too much,” Christian said. Somehow, today, it didn’t land like the criticism Dave would have heard it as before. It felt more as if Christian was worried for him.
Dave sat quietly, thinking about Justin.
He remembered that flicker of suspicion he’d had at the beginning about his motives, before he’d gotten to know Justin.
He’d swear he was all he seemed. But he did seem to be different from the other members they’d met.
Maybe his quiet, open friendliness and sensitivity weren’t who he really was.
And then there was that time he hadn’t reported to Barton for orders, instead sticking with Dave. Perhaps because he’d already had his orders—to keep an eye on the strange shifters and find out what he could about them.
“But why would he lie about knowing that guy?” Dave asked, still not entirely convinced as he remembered how upset Justin had been. Had seemed, anyway.
Christian was quiet a moment longer, and when he looked up to meet Dave’s gaze, his eyes were bleak.
“I can only think of two reasons. Either he wanted to please you, or…” He drew a deep breath. “Or we were wrong. It wasn’t a councilor who did this. It was Barton and his pack, and Justin was laying a false trail to divert suspicion.”
Fuck. Dave lay back against the pillow, suddenly winded. Everything in him said Christian was wrong. But if he was right…
“We don’t know anything for sure,” Christian said. “Not yet.”
Dave nodded slowly, then looked at Christian again.
“So if the pack might be involved, d’you think we should hang around longer, try and find out?”
To his deep relief, Christian shook his head. “We wouldn’t be welcome even if we wanted to, after I ran out on them last night. Let me get that truck back, say what I need to, and then we can get out of here.”
And at least they had something to report to Matt. Not a clear, definitive answer like they’d hoped to find, but more than they’d had before. Maybe it would be enough to lead them to the truth.