“Hand me my crutches,” Diesel ordered, knowing his tone of voice would galvanize the boy into action.
He’d been correct, Triton leaped over to gather up his crutches and approach.
“Pick up that rifle and follow me.” He pointed a crutch at the sniper rifle leaning to the side of the fireplace.
Triton’s eyes went wide. “Is it loaded?”
“Why would I hold a weapon if it wasn’t loaded?”
“Sorry.” Triton swallowed and followed him.
They reached the front door, and he took the weapon from Triton before he stepped outside along with Bull.
When Triton tried to come outside, Diesel held the screen door closed with one crutch.
“Stay inside,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because I’m asking you to.” And if shit went south, no way in hell did he want Triton anywhere near it.
“Okay,” Triton whispered.
It was a juggle, but Diesel finally got the crutches placed aside and used the porch railing for balance.
Lifting the rifle, he made sure a bullet was in the chamber and then waited.
Three trucks approached at top speed, sending dust flying, which would make the inside of the house a fucking mess.
They skidded to a stop near the end of the drive and several men got out.
Clay Martin was at the head of the group as they approached and his men fanned out behind him.
“You’re trespassing,” Bull called out.
Jim stepped down the porch and aimed his rifle at the thugs, keeping them from reaching the porch. Several Triple R ranch hands were positioned around the barns, corrals, and water trough. They all stepped out with weapons pointed.
Clay seemed to pause when he caught sight of Diesel on the porch. It was apparent by the comical look that the thug hadn’t been expecting any resistance. Not the kind Diesel would gladly give the fucker.
“Now, don’t be like that.” Clay edged closer. The guy was big, beefy. Poking his tongue at the tobacco puffing out his bottom lip, Clay let fly with a dark wad of spit in the dirt. “I’m just here to see my boyfriend and to tell him I’m sorry.”
Diesel didn’t trust the smarmy motherfucker’s face.
“Fine. I’ll give him the message,” Diesel said, drawing Clay’s gaze from Bull.
Clay’s shoulders shifted, nostrils flared, and he took a step back.
That’s right, motherfucker, I’m in charge.
“I’d rather tell him myself.” Clay sniffed, sucking up a loogie, and he spat on the ground.
“Like I said, I’ll give him the message,” he drawled real slow like and curled his free arm, cradled the barrel of the shotgun on it before sliding his finger near the trigger.
“It’s okay, Diesel,” Triton said, pushing through the screen.
Diesel wanted to snarl, but he held his tongue.
Triton came to stand next to him. The top of his head barely reached his shoulder. The closeness gave away just how much Triton was shaking.
“I’m sorry, Tri. Come home,” Clay snapped. Like that was going to make it all better.
Diesel snorted.
“N-n-no. I’m not coming back,” Triton all but whispered.
Diesel’s hand tightened around his weapon at the softness and stumbling stutter.
Clay had heard him though, the whole porch had, and Diesel felt the others give a collective sigh of relief.
“What the hell do you mean?” Clay turned ugly. “I said I’m sorry. Now come home.”
“You heard him. He’s not coming back,” Diesel said, his voice hard and flat, his rifle aimed at Clay’s crotch.
Clay shifted, taking another step back, and a few of his thugs stepped forward.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Clay’s expression turned pure evil. “I’m sure your friends will be sorry too.”
“What the fuck did you say?” Diesel snapped. “Did you just threaten him?”
“You’re hearing things. All I said was I’m sorry it has to be this way,” Clay snapped, glared at him and then Triton, before he turned around and walked away. The ten thugs with the guy got into the vehicles and left in a trail of dust.
“Fucker,” Diesel snarled.
“It’s okay, he probably won’t come back.” Triton’s voice wobbled and the boy laid a soft hand on his arm. Fingers squeezed for a brief second and then dropped away. He missed the touch immediately.
Triton’s face looked closed off again, like it had when he’d first arrived. Diesel wanted to kill something. He ground his teeth.
“I’m calling the sheriff and reporting him,” Bull said, stomping into the house.
“It won’t do any good, Bull. Clay is the sheriff’s nephew, remember?” Triton said, reminding Bull, and hurried after the older man back into the house. “It’ll only bring trouble, please, Bull.” Triton’s voice faded as he followed Bull.
“Has the sheriff been called about this before?” he asked Jim, who stood on the steps
“Yup.” Jim spat in the dirt and continued aiming his shotgun until the last truck disappeared.
Diesel eased down onto one of the wide chairs that lined the front porch and laid the rifle across his lap. He slowly stretched his leg out.
“Have you seen any bruises on Triton?”
“I haven’t, but I’ve seen the way he moves gingerly and skittish as all hell, like that bastard hurt him.”
“Fuck,” Diesel muttered.
“I doubt he’ll be back. That’s the first time he’s come out here. Bull will talk to the sheriff, even if it is his kin. That guy ain’t nothin’ but a bad fuckin’ seed.”
“So I gather.” He rubbed at his chin. “Make sure you keep your rifle loaded.”
Jim nodded, touched the brim of his hat, and wandered into the house.
Diesel eased upright and followed, determined to talk through any trauma Triton may be suffering from that asshole’s visit.
Diesel
Diesel rubbed at his thigh. The physical therapist that had come the past few days was already helping him. He studied the silent boy tucked into the edge of the couch, eyes glued on the television. Getting Triton to talk was slow going and Diesel hadn’t gotten anywhere yet. With time, he knew Triton would open up. It was in the boy’s nature.
His pocket vibrated and he pulled out his cell. Shit. Mike’s name flashed.
“Hey, Mike, what’s up?”
Triton’s head snapped around and those bright blue eyes locked on him. He winked and gave Triton a reassuring smile that died with Mike’s next words.
“Diesel? David was in a car accident yesterday. He was rear ended, I spent the night with him in the hospital.”
His cousin’s frantic voice brought him to his feet. Balancing on one leg, he gratefully took the crutch Triton handed him. “Is he okay?” He limped toward the wide window that graced the main living room wall.
“Yes, thank god.” Mike gave a shaky sigh. “They did surgery on his leg and are going to keep him a few days. His mom is coming to stay with Jake. I asked her to take care of Molly and stop by your place and feed Cedar for you, but I don’t know how many days she can do that since she’ll have the baby.”
“Mike, fuck. You need me there?”
“I…can you?” Mike’s half-sob came through the phone.
“I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and closed his eyes tightly. Blowing out a breath, he turned.
The look on Triton’s face was fucking killing him.
“Triton…”
“I’ll help you pack,” Triton said, and hurried from the room and down the hallway.
Diesel followed slowly. By the time he reached the room, Triton had his luggage on the bed and was folding his clothing from the closet.
“I don’t need to leave this second.”
“You don’t?” Triton’s eyes were wide.
“No, I’ll leave at first light in the morning.”
“Right.” Tr
iton nodded and finished packing. His bags were packed in no time and Triton was slipping past him, pulling the rollaway to leave it near the front door.
Dinner was quiet, the food was good, Diesel was sure, but every bite tasted like sawdust.
“Come back and see us when you get a chance, Diesel,” Bull said.
“I will, and thank you for the hospitality, Bull. I really appreciate it.”
“Bah, ain’t no problem,” Bull replied, and a smile crinkled his face. “I sent Jim a text and told him to get the car ready early in the morning.” Bull gripped his hand hard and then pulled him into a hug.
The house grew quiet after that and Diesel lay on his bed tossing and turning through the night. Just before first light, he made his way into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Once it was done, he stood sipping at a cup as the dawn approached. He had a plane to catch.
A sound at the doorway drew his gaze and he found Triton there, barefoot, in blue jeans and one of his t-shirts.
“Jim’s out front,” Triton whispered.
“I best be getting then,” he said gruffly.
“Be sure to rest your leg as much as you work on it,” Triton said woodenly, following him out onto the front porch.
“I will,” he croaked, unsure of what to say.
The brave way Triton kept the tears from falling nearly broke him in two.
I’m not anyone to cry over, he wanted to say, but didn’t.
“Look, if I didn’t have a family emergency, I’d stay for the full two weeks.”
“I know.” Triton’s lip trembled. “It’s okay. I’m praying for a speedy recovery for your cousin’s husband.”
“Thank you.” He couldn’t seem to move.
“Be happy, Diesel.” Triton’s eyes stood bright with tears.
Lifting the phone from Triton’s fingers, Diesel punched in his phone number and home address.
He stared down into those fucking killer blue eyes and said the last thing he expected. “If you need a place, ever, you have my address.”
Triton clutched the phone to his chest like it was a lifeline. One tear slipped down his soft cheek and god help him, Diesel lifted his fingers and wiped it away.
“Take care of yourself and stop lying to Maddox. Remember, you’re better than that asshole, Clay. Don’t let anyone ever hit you.”
Triton stared at him mutely.
“I mean it, Triton. You deserve much better than that.”
Triton nodded wordlessly and then glanced away.
He could see Triton didn’t believe it. Fuck. Shit couldn’t get any worse. He wanted to cup the boy’s cheek and demand he give his word, but it wasn’t his place. Triton wasn’t his responsibility.
He forced himself to back away. Triton wasn’t his. The boy was going to make someone a fine partner, but it wasn’t going to be him. He’d opened his heart once to a man too young for him, and he couldn’t afford it again. Triton had some serious growing up to do.
A firm hand would help with that. He closed off the thought and turned away.
Jim helped him into the truck, and he watched Triton in the side view mirror until the man’s small form faded from view. Why the fuck did he feel like he was leaving a piece of himself behind?
“It was nice having you around, Diesel,” Jim remarked.
“Thanks, Jim. I’m sorry I have to take off so soon.”
“When you have obligations, that’s the way it is. Family comes first.”
“Take care of him.” He rubbed at the tightness in his chest.
“If he’ll let us, we will. He was treated like trash and then tossed away by his mom and dad. That boy’s got trust issues. He believes he doesn’t deserve better. That’s not a battle others can win for him. He’s got to do that from inside.”
Diesel pulled a hand over his mustache and beard. Jim was right. Triton needed to battle his inner demons himself.
A role model would help with that. Make the process much easier.
He glanced out the window and quieted the voice in his head that wanted him to have Jim turn the truck around.
Diesel
Cedar meowed continuously, winding around his legs until Diesel reached down and plucked the rescue into his arms. The cat nudged and pushed beneath his chin and purred.
“Missed me?” he chuckled, caressing the big cat’s dark fur before placing him down. “Well, Molly will be glad to see us,” he told Cedar, knowing the cat and dog had a love/hate relationship.
Pouring food in the cat’s dish, he slowly made his way over to feed the three goldfish in the large, bubbling tank.
He watched them for a moment and lifted his cell phone to check in with his cousin.
“How’s Dave?”
“He’s doing better, bitching at the nurses already. They reset the big bone in his leg. I slept in the chair by his bed.” Mike sounded so relieved.
“That’s great, Mike. Tell him I said hi.”
“Diesel says hi,” Mike’s voice faded a bit.
“Tell him no leg jokes when I see him,” Dave yelled from the background.
Mike snorted back into the phone. “You two will be like peas in a pod.”
“Funny guys,” Diesel grunted. “Tell him to get better. And tell his mom I’ll be over in a little while.”
“Will do.”
Diesel rang off and filled a water can at the sink before he started from one end of the house to the other end watering his plants. Every room in his house was filled with various green things.
It took him thirty minutes since he was so slow, but he spoke to each of them until he was done. This wasn’t the house he’d grown up in, but it was the home of his choosing, and he took a moment to gaze around at the decor with a smile.
Every plant displayed a healthy green. Thankfully, Patty Van Patton didn’t mind watering his plants when he was deployed. After all, she told him, he bought the plants from her greenhouse, it was the least she could do. He paid her regardless.
There had been a time when he’d had a partner to help him do all this. Someone eager to help.
Which brought back how eagerly Triton had helped him at the ranch. He smiled imagining Triton flitting around his plants and animals, and then narrowed his eyes. What the hell was he doing? He shook off the vision.
Been there, done that before, and never fucking again. Shawn had been just a year older than Triton was now. And Shawn had almost destroyed him.
Reaching the front door, he eased on his sneakers. While the weather for early February typically brought rain, the news had predicted clear nights for the next day or two.
Stepping outside, he took in a deep breath of the cool, crisp night air and let himself out the front gate. Gazing upward, the stars were so bright in the sky, it was easy to see the constellations.
At the end of the wet road, he reached Mike and Dave’s front gate, entered, and rapped softly at the door.
“Diesel!” David’s mom, Tracey, answered the door with a big smile.
“Evening, Mrs. Lake.”
He braced himself. Molly’s nails clicked on the floor and after a moment, the big Labrador Retriever barreled right for him with an abundance of energy. All he could do was stoop over and let her lick him while he took ahold of her collar with a smile and ran his free hand over her head, ears, and neck.
“Thank you. I appreciate you watching her.”
“No problem, she’s a sweet, well-behaved girl.”
He smiled and turned with a slow limp.
Molly froze and so did Diesel. She sniffed around him, then sniffed his knee where the injury lay beneath a heavy bandage. As if on silent order, she switched to his other side and pressed against his good leg. He took her collar again, attached her leash, and she slowly led him back home.
Diesel had adopted the Labrador after a phone call from Colonel Liam Cobalt’s twin brother, Logan. Logan Cobalt ran a dog sanctuary as well as a dog training facility. Logan had told him that Molly was a trained balance dog whose pr
evious owner had died. After his death, the man’s kids had neglected Molly so badly that she’d been starved. A concerned neighbor had called the local rescue foundation. They found her chained to a fence post in the backyard. Skin and bones, she didn’t even get up to greet the rescuer. The chain had cut into the skin and fur around her neck. Diesel volunteered to foster her immediately and had driven out to Logan’s place in Colorado to pick Molly up.
That had been two years ago. Diesel became her forever home. Molly was family.
“Come on, good girl,” he crooned, stroking her head.
Making his way slowly up the front steps, Diesel opened the door, unhooked her leash, and Molly dashed inside. Cedar jumped from the couch and raced toward the kitchen. Molly took off after the cat. Diesel locked the door with a chuckle.
Easing into his oversized easy chair, he flipped on the television, but kept the sound low. For some reason, being alone got on his nerves tonight. He pulled out his cell and dialed Maddox.
“You heard?”
“Yeah, sorry about your cousin’s husband,” Maddox said.
“Thanks.”
“I spoke with Triton earlier.”
He shifted a bit, rubbing his thigh. “How’s he doing?”
“He won’t say, but I know he’s scared.”
He sat up straighter. “He’s not going back is he?”
“He better not, or I’ll fly home and kick his ass.”
Diesel couldn’t even chuckle as they ended the call.
He stared out the window at nothing. He’d give it a few months and then call and check in on Triton; it was the least he could do.
At least this time, he got to say goodbye.
Triton
Two months later
“Fraser, I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
He gazed sluggishly around, trying not to move too much. Oh yeah, that was right, he hadn’t gone far from the apartment.
“I’m behind the liquor store across the street from the apartment building.”
“Can you start walking on Fifth Street and I’ll pick you up?”
“I can’t walk.”
“Fuck! Hang on, Triton. I’ll be right there.”
Bringing It Home (Code Of Honor Book 3) Page 5