Chapter Seventeen
A uniformed officer stepped in Nate’s way. Not Bennett’s partner from the last time, thank fuck. “I’m sorry, sir, this is a crime scene, you ca—”
“Is Officer Bennett here?” Nate stopped even though he wanted to charge ahead, find Wesley.
The guy nodded.
“I’m the one who called him. Can you find him please?”
The officer eyed him, gauging his sincerity, maybe recognizing him, but finally nodded. “I’ll get him.”
Nate inched up the driveway, as close as he dared. He’d said crime scene. Had something else happened? Was Wesley in there? A cold vice squeezed his heart. Did Officer Bennett not get here in time? Was Nate too late?
The officer exited the trailer followed by Officer Bennett, who stopped on the decking and waved him over.
“Mr. Hennessey, come on.”
Nate didn’t need another invitation and surged forward. He stopped on the threshold to allow his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside. He scanned the room and spotted Wesley.
Nate’s body seized up for half a moment and then he skidded across the floor on his knees. “Wesley, oh my God. Wesley.”
He was curled up, not full-fetal, but close, an arm over his head. His shirt was torn. His forearms were starting to purple—probably from protecting himself from the blows.
“Wesley, I’m here. What did you do?” Nate stroked the back of his head.
Wesley took a shuddering breath and slowly uncovered his face. Nate gasped at the bruising and the blood. One eye was swollen shut completely, the other barely opened.
“Oh, God, Wesley.”
“What are you doing here?” he croaked. “Go away before you’re recognized.”
“I don’t care about that. I came for you, you brave idiot. Wade called me and told me what you said. I just knew you were in trouble. I got here as soon as I could, but you...”
This could ruin his career—his team’s support notwithstanding. But so what? If he walked away from Wesley, what was he even protecting anymore?
Nate leaned over and kissed his hair right next to his temple.
In the few weeks that Wesley had been in his life, Nate had felt cherished and nurtured and truly cared for.
Something he hadn’t felt since he could remember.
Mom had always been an alcoholic and Dad had always been a workaholic as a result.
Sometimes his friends’ moms were generous with their affection when he visited, but it had never been enough.
Wesley, on the other hand, had some way, somehow filled every nook and cranny Nate had, and he wasn’t letting him go. Hockey be damned. If this was his undoing, well, he’d won the fucking Cup, and he was willing to go out in a blaze of glory. He hoped the Locomotives’ backing would be enough.
“I figured out how I know you.”
Dammit. He didn’t need this right now. Nate was having a moment. He swallowed, looked up into the face of Officer Savard. And how was he even here right now? “Oh?”
“You’re the new goalie.”
Nate nodded.
“And you’re apparently queer.”
The barely-there sneer galled Nate like skate blades on concrete.
“Are you queer, Officer Savard?”
The man snorted. “Of course not.”
Nate rose to his knees, one hand holding Wesley’s. “Okay, well… ‘Queer’ is our word, and I’d appreciate it greatly if you didn’t use the term.”
“Or what?”
“Or nothing.” Nate shrugged. “You have freedom of speech, of course, to say whatever you want. But some labels should belong strictly to those to whom they refer.”
Savard narrowed his gaze. “Are you giving me a sociology lesson?”
“Not at all. Making conversation and expressing my opinion.”
Savard hmmd, not appearing pleased with Nate’s comment.
Too damn bad. In for a penny, in for a fucking pound. If the dude wanted to out him, well, Nate couldn’t stop him. At this point, he almost didn’t care. But it would bring on a shit storm he really didn’t want to deal with.
So Nate said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep my sexuality to yourself.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll be dealing with a lot of bullshit over something that’s nobody else’s business and has no bearing on your investigation.”
“And I’ll report you to the chief for breach of public trust,” Officer Bennett cut in, startling both Nate and Savard. “Go away, Savard.”
The two had a bit of a silent showdown until finally Savard huffed and left the trailer.
Nate nodded to Bennett. “Thanks.”
“I have half a mind to say something to the chief anyway,” Bennett said.
Sirens pierced the air, growing louder before ending with two sharp chirps.
Two EMTs tromped in a few moments later, and Nate shuffled backwards to let them work. In about three minutes, they’d ascertained that Wesley didn’t have any life-threatening injuries.
“We’re taking him to the ED at Bellevue Medical Center,” one of the EMTs said as they rolled him out the door. “But he should be okay. Eventually.”
Nate held Wesley’s hand as he walked next to the gurney until they reached the back of the rig. “I’ll be along shortly. I’ll find you.”
“Wait, wait...” Wesley rasped to the EMTs, before turning his attention to Nate.
Nate’s face throbbed in sympathy.
“You don’t have to come. I’m about to become a lot of trouble you don’t want in your life.” Tears trickled from Wesley’s eyes, leaving a streak of reddish brown along one temple.
Nate knew that. Deep inside. From the moment he agreed to take Wesley home.
The first time, from the hospital, and even more so the second time, from here.
But he’d chosen to do it anyway, and there was a reason for that, even if he hadn’t known what it was.
Nate gently stroked Wesley’s head. Anywhere else would probably cause pain.
“You’re exactly the kind of trouble I’ve been looking for, only I never thought I’d find it.
But I did. I found you. Unless you have any better objections, I’d like to keep it. Keep you.”
Wesley half sobbed, half laughed and then moaned in pain.
Nate winced in sympathy. He’d been that battered and bruised before, as a result of hockey, not as a result of violence. “Let them get you to the hospital, baby. I’ll be there, okay.”
Wesley sobbed once as if he couldn’t believe it. “You sure?”
And maybe Wesley couldn’t believe it, so Nate nodded and said, “I’ve never been more sure of much else but hockey. Finders keepers.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for a protracted moment.
Nate finally raised an eyebrow.
More tears slid down the side of Wesley’s face. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Nate leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Wesley’s lips. “See you soon.”
“Okay.”
And then Wesley was lifted into the ambulance, and they were off, lights flashing but no siren.
Nate watched until the rig disappeared around the corner and out of sight.
“Mr. Hennessey?”
Nate turned to Officer Bennett and held out a hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you so much for dropping everything and coming after Wesley.”
“Just doing my job.”
“And I appreciate that. But by the looks of your street clothes—” Chinos and a button-down, nice shoes. “—you were on personal time, am I right? Doing something special.”
“Today’s my boy’s birthday.” He glanced at his watch. “The party started an hour ago.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. You should have just called it in.”
“Mr. Hennessey, this is my job, and I love it. My wife was an officer too until we had the kids, and she knew what she was signing up for. My kids aren’t always happy when their daddy has to take off, but they understand.
Darius had Mr. Byerly as his teacher last year, and he really helped our family figure some stuff out, so rest assured Darius would have booted me out the door himself if he’d known who was in need of help. ”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“Nah, man.” Bennett shook his head. “No justification for sharing the details of a case unless pertinent during an investigation or a legal proceeding.”
“Good to know.” So if anything got leaked, Nate knew where to look. “Listen, would it be out of line to get you and your family into some seats at a game once the season starts?”
“We’re not supposed to, but thanks for the offer. Zariah would love it.”
“And Zariah is?”
“My sports-crazy daughter. Never met a sport she didn’t like.”
Nate chuckled. “Well, we’ll figure something out. I have your card. Thanks again. Wesley and I owe you.”
“Take care of Mr. Byerly. I want Zariah in his class when the time comes.”
“Will do.”
They shook hands one last time before Nate speed-walked to his vehicle and pressed hard on the gas.
* * * * *
Nate sat slumped in a too-small chair, baseball cap pulled low, facing the windows and trying to keep a low profile.
The waiting room was a dull gray, dark gray paint beneath a three-inch swatch of grayish blue and light gray above.
Bland abstract art hung on the walls. The color scheme was probably meant to be soothing, calming.
Nate felt anything but. The windows overlooked a busy crossroads to some fields full of corn on the other side and housing developments beyond.
He’d missed the rural charm of the Midwest.
“Mr. Hennessey?”
Nate jumped to his feet and turned toward the voice. A short woman with a round face, blond hair in a wobbly bun, and wearing pale blue scrubs and a smile stood in the doorway.
“You can see Mr. Byerly now. Please follow me.”
So much for keeping a low profile. Nate scanned the room. The handful of other friends or family members waiting all had their noses buried in a phone or a tablet. Maybe his business was safe for a while longer. Maybe it wasn’t. He shook his head.
While he’d like his business to stay his own, the secret was no longer classified, compartmentalized, or need-to-know. He’d fallen in love with Wesley. They were going to pursue a relationship. Well, he hoped so, anyhow.
The trek down the hall to Wesley’s assigned room was mercifully short. The nurse allowed him to enter and pulled the door shut behind her.
Nate approached the bed slowly, taking in the sight before him.
“Hi.” Wesley peered out at him through slitted eyes, a puffy face, and a slanted smile.
He looked ten times worse than the night Nate had found him in his car.
This time, the bruising covered his entire face.
The side of his head and his ear were swollen, too, and bandages wrapped around his ribcage.
“Hey.” Nate took his hand, leaned in, and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “What’s the prognosis?”
“Definitely a concussion. Cracked and bruithed ribs. Tonth of thwelling. Bruithed kidney,” Wesley said, his words slurred once more. “They think the thpeech thing’s from the concussion. Thwelling pressing on thomething, maybe.”
“Ouch. Are they giving you the good narcotics?”
Wesley lifted the other arm with the IV line. “Mmm hmm.”
Nate’s heart clenched. “Good.”
So much love swirled through him. Yes, love.
He felt dizzy with the surge of emotion.
But loving Wesley felt right and good. The organization had his back, from top to bottom, making his decision easy.
His teammates were still a question mark, except for Kincaid, but he’d promised to step into the breach as needed.
Nate had so much he wanted to say but now was not the time. Not in the hospital and not while Wesley was under the influence of a concussion and painkillers. All that could wait. He’d waited this long. What were a few more days?
Wesley sniffed wetly, and Nate noted a few tears tracking down his face. “What’s the matter? Does something else hurt?”
Wesley’s eye pinched closed, and he looked away. “I can’t work. Not recovering from all this. What am I thupposed to do?”
“Hey, hey...” Nate squeezed his hand. “You’ve got a contract with the district, right? Health insurance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
“I rethigned. I think.”
“What? Why?”
“Thomeone narked on me to the principal, and she athked me to thubmit my rethignation.” Wesley swiped at the tears, wincing at the swelling. “Thaid it would be cleaner if I thtepped down myself before the board thtarted athking questions.”
Nate huffed. He had a sneaking suspicion who blabbed.
“Okay, listen…” Nate ran a thumb across Wesley’s knuckles. “You’re not doing this alone. Not anymore.”
* * * * *
The following morning, Wesley was watching the door when it finally inched open and Nate peeked in. The look in his eyes made Wesley’s chest ache—like Nate was seeing something he’d almost lost. Like he wasn’t going to let Wesley out of his sight again.
Wesley’s throat constricted. His body tensed, ribs flaring with pain, but he barely noticed.
His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket, heart thudding—not from fear, but from sheer, aching want.
The kind that had nothing to do with romance novels or fantasies, and everything to do with safety, with being seen, and the staggering relief of not being alone.
Nate didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. He set a bag on the floor and crossed the space between them, fast and quiet, and pulled Wesley into the gentlest, most desperate hug of his life.
“Nate…” He breathed his name, gripping the soft tee shirt and inhaling in the scent of home.
“You okay?”
“Better now.” Wesley swallowed a sob.
They clung together for a few moments until Nate kissed the top of his head. “I brought you something.”
He pulled away and fetched the bag by the door and presented Wesley with a red-lidded container like it was something precious.
Wesley unscrewed the lid from the small round plastic dish. A yogurt parfait with his favorite add-ins. “Oh.”
His throat tightened again. It was just yogurt with strawberries, granola, a drizzle of Nutella—but Nate had remembered. Nobody had ever remembered the little things before—not like this. Not when it counted.
“I wasn’t sure the quality of the hospital food.” Nate handed him a spoon. “Gotta be better than Jell-O at any rate.”
Wesley let out a huff that turned into a hiss. He pressed a hand to his side. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Nate said, pulling up the chair while Wesley took a small mouthful. Amazing. The granola had softened to the point where he could swallow without chewing. Chewing hurt as he’d found out earlier when the nurse had brought him breakfast.
He’d barely finished his parfait when someone knocked and pushed the door open a few inches.
“Mr. Byerly?”
Wesley looked up. A woman stood just inside the doorway, plainclothes, early forties, badge clipped to her belt.
“I’m Detective Anna Hollis, Cass County Sheriff’s Office. Mind if I come in?”