Chapter Nine #12
Kevin nodded again, more solid this time. “Call it a tie.”
Kenai shuffled behind them, muttering curses about “that oversized frat boy with the clown shoes.” He winced every few steps but seemed to be in one piece.
The van sat by the bend in the road, its side doors hanging open. Rio kept an eye on it as he walked, just in case. The night felt less heavy now, the woods quieter.
By the time they made it back to Glass Oak, exhaustion had set in. Rio’s body hummed with adrenaline and leftover anger. He unlocked the door, steered Kevin straight into the kitchen, then sagged into the nearest chair, only after making sure Kenai had also made it inside.
Kenai dropped straight to the floor, back against the walk-in. He looked up at Rio. “If I die, make sure they spell my name right on the headstone.”
“You’re not dying,” Rio said.
Kevin nearly smiled.
“Let a guy be dramatic,” Kenai mumbled.
Silence settled over the kitchen. Rio couldn’t get the picture of Kevin, crumpled in the corner of that cabin, out of his head. Every time he blinked it was there.
He didn’t say much. Instead, he went to the walk-in, found a cold bottle of water, and pressed it into Kevin’s hand.
“You need anything else?” Rio asked, barely managing to keep his voice level.
Kevin shrugged, shoulders hunched up. “Maybe a nap. Or a drink. Got any tequila?”
Rio almost laughed. The sound came out rough, catching in his throat. “No tequila, but I’ll make you something better.”
He set about making coffee, because it gave his hands something to do. Kenai crawled up onto a stool, head down on the prep table.
“You good?” Rio said without looking up.
“Been better,” Kenai said. “Been worse, too.” He glanced at Kevin then at Rio. “Thanks for the rescue. Pretty sure I was about to end up in a shallow grave.”
Kevin shook his head, but his eyes were half-shut now, the energy draining out of him all at once.
Rio set coffee in front of both of them. The hum of the overhead lights, usually annoying, felt comforting tonight. He sat close, hands braced on the counter, watching Kevin.
“You kept your promise,” Kevin said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Always.”
* * * *
Kevin wanted to laugh, but the sound snagged in his mouth, stuck on the swelling in his cheek. Rio had come for him.
He gripped the coffee mug his mate handed him, grateful for the warmth.
“You don’t have to play superhero,” he managed.
Rio smiled softly. “That’s not what this is.”
Kenai made a rough noise, halfway between a groan and a laugh. “I just want this night to end.”
“I’m completely drained,” Kevin said, his voice croaky. His wrists burned where the zip ties had dug in deep, but he didn’t want to look at them. He licked his lower lip and tasted dried blood. “What about you, Kenai? You okay?” Kevin asked.
Kenai flashed a tired grin but winced when he tried to roll his shoulder. “I’ll live. That guy hits like a toddler.”
Kevin actually snorted. “That would be Ameer?”
“That’s the prick.” Kenai propped his head in his hands, elbows on the counter. “Saw his mugshot once, in a database for assholes with ‘anger management problems.’ He was the feature image.”
They were only half joking, but it felt better than silence. The adrenaline was fading, leaving exhaustion in its place. The hum of the kitchen lights and the coffee’s earthy smell helped a little.
Kevin tried to think it through. “Why would Izan send a psycho like that after me? I barely mattered to him for five minutes.”
“Wolves hate losing,” Kenai said. “Makes them do dumb shit, like kidnap people out of a restaurant parking lot.”
Kevin wanted to forget any of this happened, bury the whole mess in the backyard, but that wasn’t working. He’d felt real terror in that cabin. He’d honestly thought Ameer planned to kill him.
His gaze darted to Rio, who was watching him closely. It made his nerves settle, just a little.
“Sorry for making a scene,” he muttered.
Rio’s mouth twitched. “You didn’t. Wolves did.”
Kenai gave a half-hearted salute. “I’ll file the report. Victims— two. Assailants—dumb and dumber.”
Kevin let out a weak laugh. “Don’t forget the van. White, creepy, smelled like Axe body spray and onions. Real classy operation.”
They sipped their coffee in silence. The muscles in Kevin’s arms were finally unclenching.
Rio went to the fridge and rummaged one-handed through the shelves until he found a cold compress. He laid it into Kevin’s hand.
Kevin swallowed. The ice made his fingers ache, but it dulled the throbbing in his cheek.
He got tired of the silence and broke it first. “How did you find me so fast, anyway?”
Rio shrugged, looking just as exhausted as Kevin felt. “Tracked the van. Zeppelin’s pack handled the rest.”
A wave of something like relief washed over Kevin, calming the mayhem of his thoughts. “So that’s a real person? Zeppelin? He sounds like a Led Zeppelin cover band.”
Rio’s mouth curved upward in a tired smile. “He’s the local alpha. Runs things. Keeps the idiots in line.”
“Gotta love small-town organization.” Kevin pressed the ice to his face. “Izan has to be furious. He gets his loser friend to drag me off, who gets his ass handed to him in the forest, and then you guys just…bring me back like nothing happened tonight.”
Kenai whistled low. “That’s gonna piss the guy off. Guys like him hate getting shown up.”
Kevin picked at the label on his coffee cup. He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d been “shown up” before, usually by men with hands like Izan’s or worse. It felt nice to finally have sone show up for him.
Kenai watched him, curiosity clear in his eyes. “Was it as bad for you as me, in there? They separated us, and I was worried for you.”
Kevin shrugged, leaning into his mate when Rio slid an arm around him. “I’m fine.” He checked his wrists, inspecting for blood or burns. “You?”
“Fine.”
Rio pulled him closer. Kevin burrowed into his mate, never wanting to leave his side.”
Silence settled between them. The tension in Kevin’s entire body slowly unwound.
His mind kept circling back to the last hour, the way fear threatened to suffocate him, how hope had ignited when Rio’s voice broke through the chaos.
He’d never felt more like prey in his life. He’d also never felt more…wanted.
He didn’t know how to process that.
After a while, Kenai stood, wincing as he stretched. “If you two are gonna make moon eyes, I’m heading home. I’m taking the next few days off.”
He headed for the door. Kevin watched him leave then glanced at Rio.
His mate was watching him. “Ready to head home?”
Home. That word had never felt sweeter than it did tonight.
His hand on Kevin’s lower back, Rio steered him toward the door, the touch a solid anchor Kevin desperately needed.
The ride home was quiet. Kevin watched the town slide away behind them. Most windows were dark, but a few glowed with that soft yellow warmth he loved.
His mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything. The slam of the van’s door. The reek of wolf. That moment of real panic, when Kenai disappeared, rough hands locked on his arms. He’d felt powerless, a thing to be moved and bound and used.
The feeling made him want to vomit.
Home coming was a relief. Kevin hesitated on the threshold. Rio just guided him in, letting him sink into the warmth.
Rio made him sit at the island then set about making real food. Steak reheated, buttered toast, greens with enough vinegar to wake the dead. He moved calmly, never rushing, never looking away for long.
Kevin watched Rio’s hands. He found he couldn’t look away from his mate’s steady, capable hands.
When the food was placed on the island in front of him, Kevin’s stomach rumbled. “Smells amazing.”
Rio smiled. “Thanks.”
He took a bite and groaned. The salt and caramelized fat helped more than Rio knew.
Rio poured him a glass of water and sat across from him.
Kevin tried to keep his tone light. “Usually I fall for guys who drag me behind bars, not out of them.”
Rio’s eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
They ate in quiet. Every so often, Rio’s gaze flicked to Kevin’s cheek or to the way he cradled his wrist. He kept waiting for Rio to push for details, but the man never did. It made the words easier to spill out.
“I thought Ameer was going to shoot you,” Kevin said, low. “He had the gun on us. Didn’t even bother with a cliché villain speech. Just aimed and fired.”
Rio’s mouth curved in a hard line. “He won’t get the chance again.”
That was probably true, but Kevin could still feel the pressure of that moment. The room. The fear.
He hadn’t ever felt fear like that, not even in his childhood.
Kevin picked at the food, needing to move, needing to do anything that wasn’t remembering.
He forced a joke. “You think they’ll let me file for worker’s comp on this?”
Rio’s eyes didn’t budge. “You’re not working. You’re recovering.”
After working through half the steak, Kevin pushed aside his plate. “You’re being very quiet.”
Rio didn’t reply. He cleaned the few dishes in the sink.
When he spoke, his voice was a little wrecked. “I almost lost you tonight. If I hadn’t found those tracks… I’m just trying to work through it.”
“Okay.” Tears welled in Kevin’s eyes. His mate looked like he was struggling to keep it together.
Rio nodded. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “How’re you holding up?”
“I keep seeing Ameer’s eyes,” Kervin admitted. “I’ve met a few men with the creepy vibe, but that guy’s on a different level.”
The cabin, the darkness, the way Ameer’s eyes had glinted when he told Kenai to stay down or he’d break a leg flashed through Kevin’s mind.
He hadn’t wanted to show fear, had bitten through his tongue to keep quiet.
Wrapping his arms around himself, Kevin rubbed at the bruised wrist.
Rio poured him another glass of water. “Eat more.”
Kevin did, more out of giving his mate what he wanted than hunger. He felt his energy coming back.