Chapter 27
T hey’d ended up going to bed a little later than usual, and Kallen had been too distracted by the bed he wasn’t sleeping in to think of much but the oblivion sleep would bring.
So the next morning, Brad shook him awake and Kallen startled so hard, he nearly fell over.
The nurse stepped away. “What—”
Kallen squinted at him. “Sorry.” He raised a palm, as much to block the light as to ask for time.
“This is new,” Brad said slowly, but he was already recovering the amused lilt that characterised most of his speech.
Sitting up was automatic, but now it felt awkward of all things. “Yeah,” he admitted, blinking fast to try and wake up fully. “I... I need coffee.”
Brad laughed. “Glad not everything’s changed!” He glanced around the room. “You don’t need the chair anymore?” he guessed when he didn’t find it. “Do you need help getting to the kitchen?”
He swallowed, unsure, then shook his head. Maybe Brad was going to call Management ten minutes from now and update them on the development, but there was nothing Kallen could do about it if he did. “No.”
Somehow, it’d been much easier to be certain yesterday when Levy had been doubting and it’d all been theoretical.
“Okay, get sorted. I’ll make the coffee.”
WHEN KALLEN MADE IT to the kitchen ten minutes later, Brad was sipping at his own coffee, sitting on one of the high stools.
“These are amazingly comfortable,” he commented.
There was another cup for Kallen across from him, perfectly doctored—it was the kind of attention to detail Brad seemed instinctively adept at. Someone might have claimed it was a classic omega trait, but Kallen knew he himself was more likely to panic if he was asked to remember an acquaintance’s drink order.
“Think they are designer or something.”
Brad nodded, but didn’t speak. His silence felt miraculous as Kallen sat across from him and started drinking, closing his eyes for the first few sips to savour it fully. And to hide. He hadn’t changed his mind about going home without the chair, but it was quite different to risk being discovered than to outright know the White Cats management could be calling him within the hour with some demand.
He’d say no, he’d promised himself that and he had to trust he’d stick to his guns. But even so, even hearing what they would want him to do felt dangerous.
“So... You were right,” he said at last, tracing the rim of his cup with his thumb as slowly as he could make himself. “I’d rather walk than play.” He couldn’t look up from the breakfast bar. The words were no longer stabbing at him, but they dragged across a tender wound. “I decided yesterday that I was going home. And then...” He shrugged.
“Makes sense,” the nurse agreed.
“I should have warned you.”
“You don’t have my number,” Brad pointed out, and that shocked him into looking up. “So you’d have had to tell your team managers.”
Kallen couldn’t speak, but Brad was still watching him, beginning to frown, a disconcerting expression on his face. “Hey, man. Team Kal here, remember?”
He’d said it a lot, sure, but they barely knew each other, and this was Brad’s job . A job he loved, that much was clear by his patience and good humour.
“But you don’t report to me.”
Brad shrugged. “Not really here to report,” he said. “My instructions are more about showers and changing beds every few days and making nutritious meals to maintain muscle mass.” This last had a layer of sarcasm so thick on it that Kallen almost smiled. Brad seemed to catch it. “Don’t tell them about the chips, yeah?”
“You ate most of them,” he pointed out, because even when he tried to be an arsehole to his body, he really couldn’t get into greasy food.
“Doing you a favour,” Brad shot back with half a smile.
Kallen wished he could just smile back and joke about it. “But if I ask you not to come back tomorrow, you’d have to tell them why.”
“Mmm... well, but why would you do that?”
“What?”
“Ask me not to come back.” The other omega raised both eyebrows meaningfully.
“Are you...?”
Brad sighed. “You just got your legs back; I can give you a couple of days.”
“You can?” Kallen echoed.
“Yes, Kallen,” Brad said, the first time he’d said his full name. “It’s only two days. My agency won’t ask any questions and Wednesday afternoon I’ll wait until after hours to text them that you have said not to come back. They’ll bill the team, and well, they might find out right away, but with any luck...”
Luck wasn’t something had ever had a lot of. But two days was better than nothing.
“Oh. Okay, that’s...” It seemed too easy, but maybe it was easy. Brad had made him open up in such a way that it seemed strange to realise they’d known each other for less than a week. “Thank you,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else, and he found his throat tight with unexpected emotion. He didn’t know why, it was nice of Brad, of course. Maybe it was just that he wasn’t used to anyone simply being kind to him.
Other than Levy, everyone in his life did things for him in exchange for something else. And now he'd reached out to his mother, who’d reacted like she was ready to set the world on fire for his sake. Like maybe she’d always been ready. And here was this stranger, who’d been paid to help him to the toilet but not to push him not to give up, much less to reach for a freedom that meant giving up hockey.
For so long, he’d kept a barrier between himself and the world, protection against caring too much and expecting anything but cruelty. And now it was crumbling, and he was terrified and heartsick all at once. He wanted this, the trust and the help and empathy.
He just wasn’t sure he believed it could be for him.
He couldn’t quite understand how it’d happened. Or why. Surely it would have been much easier for Levy to avoid him and not think about what he’d done. Certainly, simpler than building a bridge between them knowing that it could shatter at any moment under the weight of his own guilt or Kallen’s unbearable circumstances.
He didn’t get what made Brad offer to keep back information from his employers to give Kallen a chance to get away.
His mum made more sense, of course, but it still seemed impossible she’d been there all along if he’d only asked for help.
And yet, it’d happened. Not once, but thrice now.
“You okay, man?”
He cleared his throat. “Hungry.”
Brad made an affirmative sound that somehow managed to convey how little he bought it, but he stood up and went to the fridge.
Kallen would have felt bad about asking him to cook when he no longer needed it. Except the longer he sat there focusing on slowing down his breathing, the more obvious it became he did still need it. He could imagine his father scoffing at a grown man almost crying because someone had been nice to him off all things, but for the first time he could remember, the voice didn’t send him rushing into action to silence it.
Maybe it was a leftover of not being able to move for a few days and for the first time, he saw the blessing in it. He’d felt so helpless when his legs had stopped working, but would he have ever asked for help if that hadn’t happened? He’d been meaning to go back to work, back to working with McKinley and to a contract that said he’d have a child for him one day.
“ Fuck .” He only realised he’d spoken aloud when Brad’s humming paused and he turned around. Kallen met his eyes—curious but patient. He shook his head, and the other omega went back to the frying pan. It smelled nice, he registered, almost as if his mind was seeking any way out of the path his thoughts were taking.
He’d been about to go back to McKinley . He forced himself back on task, teeth clenching both in fear and anger. It wasn’t going to happen, but a part of him didn’t seem to know that yet. Or maybe it just didn’t trust him not to cover his eyes and run straight into the wolf’s mouth once more.
I’m never going to see McKinley again outside of a courtroom , he told himself, as gently as he could manage while still being firm. Courtroom? His heart skipped a beat at the word. He didn’t want any problems, he was going to quit, sure, but that would mean terminating his contract, not... Not justice . Because for justice, he’d have to tell someone other than Levy what had been done to him.
What he’d allowed.
The plate clicking on the wooden counter startled him badly, and he found himself with both hands flat on it to keep from overbalancing. The stools were surprisingly comfortable, but they weren’t exactly suited to a man as big as him.
Brad’s eyes were fixed on him when he looked up.
“Um, just distracted. Thank you,” Kallen told him, reaching for the cutlery and discovering that for some reason they were having grilled salmon for breakfast. He dove into it, barely managing to slow himself down enough not to choke.
They ate in silence, but by the time Brad spoke up, it was almost a relief from his circling thoughts. “You freaking out again?”
“Again?” Kallen repeated.
Brad nodded, fork finding the last of his peas with impressive accuracy. “Haven’t known you long, but gotta tell you it seems to be a thing you do a lot.”
His first instinct was to deny it, but he stopped instead and tried to make it fit. “Well, you know my life is...” He waved.
“What you make it,” Brad finished for him, and Kallen straightened to stare at him. “That’s what made you decide to quit, right?”
He huffed, annoyed. It was true, but there was no reason to make it sound so... Well, simple. So simple he shouldn’t have needed anyone to come and tell him that he could quit a job where he was being abused. Except he had needed it, and Brad had been that person. Or one of them anyway, his mum had tried to warn him too, and Levy hadn’t exactly been subtle about how he really felt.
Brad deserved to be thanked, but Kallen shrugged instead. “Yeah, I guess.”
“So what’s freaking you now?”
“Just... I almost didn’t, okay? It feels like I almost got run over by a lorry or something. And I didn’t even see it, so how do I know I won’t miss another one? Just get myself into another situation like this?”
“Mmm...” Brad was sipping at his coffee, which had to have gone cold while he cooked for them. “Well, the first lorry should have scared you enough that you will look around from now on?” he suggested.
“What about when they come at me with their lawyers and their bullshit?”
The other man looked back at him calmly, but something had shifted. You can run straight into this solid wall if you like , his eyes seemed to say. “You get your own lawyer and you go at them with the truth.”
“Oh.” He reached for his cup and found it empty. He wasn’t actually thirsty, it was just a distraction. He clenched his fists on his lap instead. “The truth. Does that ever work?”
“Less than it should, but more often than they want you to believe.”
“How are you so—” He cut himself off, because something about Brad’s attitude frustrated him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “Dunno, chill. I mean, I know it’s no skin off your nose if I get screwed—”
“Hey!” Brad interrupted. “I’m team Kal, don’t go around questioning my commitment. The moment you get t-shirts made; I’m ordering one.”
“Be serious.”
Brad huffed, which felt like a bit of a win. “I am serious. Not freaking out doesn’t mean I don’t care. Just means I know you can do it, man. Really, does everything have to be drama with you?”
Kallen glared at him but then deflated. “I’m not dramatic, my life is.”
The ‘uh huh’ that got him could have flattened a couple of minor philosophical theories. It was difficult to believe him, but the guy had just made him breakfast and was now listening to him moan about said life. Technically he was still getting paid, Kallen supposed, but then again, maybe he did mean it.
“So, can I have your number?”
Brad’s smile was contagious. “Now we’re talking.”