by Bru Baker
He collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs, moving his hands from his pockets to his hair. His too-sharp nails pricked at his scalp, which helped center him. He didn’t know how much longer he could take being in here with the scent of Drew’s pain lingering in the air over top of the smell of his blood.
“Figured you might want this,” a voice said, and a second later his bag floated into view. “I’m Deputy Myers.”
Nick grabbed the bag, giving the deputy the barest of thanks before digging through it for his phone. When he looked up, the man was still standing there.
“I’ve got to make sure Drew’s brother knows what happened. Do you mind if I go outside?”
Myers bobbed his head. “Don’t leave, but you can step outside for some privacy. They’ve taken the suspect to the hospital, so you don’t have to worry about running into him out there in the ambulance.”
Nick hadn’t even noticed the second ambulance. “Thanks,” he muttered, distracted by his phone.
He wandered outside, taking in a deep lungful of air as soon as he got to the parking lot. It cleared the horrible scents from his nose but it didn’t do anything to erase the visual of Drew getting shot that kept playing in his mind.
Anne Marie picked up on the fourth ring, clearly annoyed at being disturbed after ten.
“Drew got shot,” he blurted, cutting off her rant. “In the chest. They’re taking him to the hospital but the sheriff says he’ll probably be flown to Louisville. I need you to call his brother so he’s not alone.”
“What do you mean, Drew got shot?” she asked, voice shrill.
“Just what it sounds like,” he lisped angrily. His fangs had lengthened, and he winced when they sliced his lip open. He took a deep breath and forced them to recede. “Someone came in tonight with a gun, and Drew got shot in the chest. Do you have his brother’s number or not? I know he has one who lives in Lexington.”
“Shit. Yes. I mean, probably. I definitely have some sort of emergency Pack contact for him in his paperwork. Even if it’s not his brother, I’m sure they can call him. Where are you? Are you with Drew?”
He should be. God, he wished he was. He was on the edge of control, out of his mind with worry, and his wolf was going insane not having Drew in his sight.
“No, the police needed me to stay to give a statement. I’m going to go as soon as they release me.”
Anne Marie cursed again. “Do I need to call the Tribunal officer? Does someone need to do some damage control? How did you subdue the shooter?”
That was what she was concerned about? Drew could be dead for all they knew, and all she could think about was having a Tribunal clean-up team come in?
“No,” he snapped. “I didn’t do anything. Drew subdued the shooter. He didn’t want me to take the risk. And it got him shot in the fucking chest.”
A sob slipped out, and Nick pressed a hand over his eyes. The pressure helped stem the tears that threatened. He didn’t have time to fall apart. He had to give his statement so he could go be with Drew. That was all that mattered right now.
“Oh God. How is he?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“I don’t fucking know, because I’m here and not wherever he is. Can you call his brother or not?”
“Yes,” she said, “Yes, I’ll call him. And I’ll have Harris come to you. He can drive you to the hospital. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”
Harris was going to be almost as upset as Nick was, but he didn’t have time to argue. “If he can get here before I’m done, fine. I’m not waiting.”
GIVING his statement to the deputy hadn’t taken long. Not after Maura broke down and admitted Jimmy had been abusing her and that he’d been pointing the gun at both her and Drew. She’d abandoned her story about Drew and Jimmy fighting for the gun and it going off accidentally, and the sheriff had talked to someone at the hospital who’d confirmed there hadn’t been any gunpowder on Drew’s shirt—he’d been more than a foot away when he’d been shot.
Just as the sheriff had suspected, they’d ended up having the helicopter meet them at the local hospital. Drew had been whisked away to Louisville as soon as he’d gotten out of the ambulance, which was good news as far as Nick was concerned. He wanted Drew to get the best possible care.
Nick had planned to drive the camp SUV to Louisville, but he hadn’t been able to find the keys. A hard lump settled in his throat when he realized they were probably in Drew’s pocket.
There was no public transportation to speak of in this tiny little town, and even if he managed to find an Uber, the hospital was over an hour away. He doubted anyone would be willing to take him that far.
Headlights arced across the front of the building, making Nick squint and hold a hand up. The place was still crawling with deputies, but things were winding down. Someone had come to pick Maura up ten minutes ago, and he’d been outside alone since then.
The door cracked open, and Harris stuck his head out. “Is there anything else you need to do here or should we go?”
Oh thank God. He’d never have believed he’d be happy to see Harris, but he was. He rushed to the car and was grateful when Harris started backing out before he’d even had a chance to put his seat belt on. Clearly he understood how important it was for them to get to Drew.
“Anne Marie said they took him to a hospital in Louisville,” Harris said, casting a glance at Nick for confirmation.
“University of Louisville hospital. It has a level-one trauma center. He was in surgery last time the sheriff checked.”
Nick had tried to call to get an update since, but he wasn’t family, and the hospital hadn’t been able to tell him anything.
“Anne Marie called Jackson. He left right away, so he’ll beat us there. He’s going to call as soon as he knows something. Kenny and Christa are driving over from St. Louis. It was faster than flying. Especially the way Christa drives.”
Jealousy bloomed in Nick’s chest at the easy way Harris talked about Drew’s family. He recognized Jackson’s name, but he hadn’t heard Drew talk about anyone named Kenny or Christa. He assumed they were Drew’s mom and stepdad, but he didn’t know for sure. And Harris did, which rankled.
“Kenny’ll have a fight on his hands convincing the rest of the Pack not to come down,” Harris continued. “I kind of hope he loses that battle. It will be good for Drew to be surrounded by people who love him.”
Harris was obviously including himself in that group, and Nick’s wolf wanted to roar out his claim over Drew, hearing another man talk about him so familiarly. But Harris had earned that right, and Nick hadn’t. He’d had his head up his ass for weeks, and he didn’t have anyone to blame for that but himself.
It sounded like Drew’s Pack was reacting the same way they would if a Were member had been injured, which only made him feel like a bigger ass. He’d been ignoring the signs—the way Drew always seemed to know what Nick needed to calm his instincts, the way Drew seamlessly put together that scavenger hunt, the way he interacted so well with the wolflings. Drew was a wolf in all but biology, and Nick hated himself for letting his stupid preconceived notions of what a human could be in a Pack get in the way of really getting to know Drew.
Harris fiddled with his phone, which started spouting directions to the hospital. Christ, it said they had a forty-five-minute drive. Nick didn’t know how he was going to survive this drive without going out of his mind. He wanted to jump out of the car and shift, but logically he knew Harris could drive much faster than he could run as a wolf. Still, the urge was there. He dug sharp fingernails into his thighs, trying to ground himself.
The irony was Drew would have known exactly how to calm him down.
“He’s going to be okay,” Harris said, obviously picking up on the cloying scent of Nick’s fear clouding the car.
“We don’t know that. He was shot in the chest, Harris. In the chest. Even a Were can die from that.”
“Humans are tougher than you give them credit for,” Harris
said. “If he’s in surgery then it means he made it through long enough to get help. Drew’s a strong guy. He’ll pull through.”
“We hope.”
“Hope is all we have right now. But come on now, do you really think Drew would give you the satisfaction of being right? Fucker will hang on just to make a point.”
That startled a laugh out of Nick. It did sound like Drew—the kind of guy who’d pushed himself past the point of exertion to make sure he beat Nick by twenty seconds instead of just fifteen.
“Exactly,” Harris said, his death grip on the steering wheel easing as Nick relaxed and retracted his claws. Poor guy had probably thought Nick was going to shift in the car and run them off the road. “Drew’s going to make it through this, and then he’s going to be insufferable and show off his bullet wound all the time so we have to admit how badass he is.”
Nick thought of the smooth skin of Drew’s chest marred by scar tissue. Drew would rock it somehow—Nick had never met anyone who was as comfortable with who he was as Drew. He’d chalked that up to Drew being human and not having to deal with a wolf inside, but he was realizing that was just Drew. Even more reason for Nick to throw himself at Drew’s feet and beg for forgiveness for being such a stubborn ass.
Harris’s phone rang, and he glanced at Nick before answering it on speaker.
“Jackson? How is he?”
Nick’s heart clenched at the long pause, but then Jackson started speaking. “Sorry, they’ve got loud speakers paging doctors constantly, and it’s hard to hear. He’s out of surgery. They say the next twenty-four hours are crucial, but the hard part is over. They were able to get the bullet out with minimal damage, and his lung is looking okay. The surgeon who came out said whoever did the field dressing before the EMTs came probably saved him. The bullet punctured his lung, but it never collapsed.”
Nick closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest, letting his tears fall without shame. Drew was going to be okay.
Harris blew out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s good news. Are you with him now? We’re about half an hour away.”
“He’s still in recovery. They don’t know yet if he’ll be in the ICU or on a regular floor. The nurse said the anesthesia is starting to wear off, so we’ll be able to see him soon.”
“Your dad and Christa will be there in a couple hours. Anne Marie called and reserved a couple hotel rooms nearby, though I doubt anyone will use them.”
Unlikely. The urge to be near an injured Pack member was hard to ignore. The news was good, but Nick wouldn’t fully feel like things were okay until he could hold Drew’s hand and scent him. Drew’s Pack probably felt the same.
“Jordan and I probably broke twenty laws getting over here, and we definitely didn’t pack anything from home before we left, but maybe I can duck out and grab some clothes and toiletries for everyone after Drew is settled into his regular room.”
Jordan. That was the guy from Drew’s list he hadn’t wanted to talk about. The one his brother had moved to Lexington to live with. But they weren’t together. They’d broken up. Why would Jordan be there?
Even Harris grimaced at the mention of the name. There must be some major history there, and Nick wanted to hear it.
“We’ll see you in thirty,” Harris said, his hand hovering over the phone. “Call if anything changes.”
“Will do. See you soon, man.”
Harris hung up and let out a low curse. “If he takes Jordan back because of this, I’m going to fucking puncture his lung myself,” he muttered.
Nick’s stomach sank. “I know he’s an ex-boyfriend, but that’s all I know. That and he lives in Kentucky.”
Harris clenched his jaw. “It’s not my place to tell you about him, but I will say Jordan is an opportunistic shit, and Drew has a soft spot a mile wide for him. I really hoped the last time they broke up was for good, though. I mean, they broke up because Jordan wanted to take a job in Lexington and Drew couldn’t leave his residency in St. Louis. Jordan went anyway, and that was that.”
“Why did Jackson follow him?”
Harris shrugged. “He’s still Pack, you know? They grew up together. Jordan’s dad is the Alpha of the St. Louis Pack. It’s why he gets away with being such a shit. He’s kind of at that werewolf royalty level, you know? Son of an Alpha on the Werewolf Tribunal. Guy isn’t used to hearing no a lot. And he treated Drew like shit—mostly because as the Alpha’s son, he needs to mate, and he couldn’t do that with Drew. He made it clear he was just passing time with him.”
That sounded uncomfortably familiar.
“But Drew loved him?”
Harris snorted. “Loves, present tense. Drew never gives anyone up. He just makes his circle wider. I mean, sure, maybe not romantically anymore, but once you’re in Drew’s life, you’re his. He doesn’t let people go.”
Nick wondered if that included him yet or not. He was damned well going to make sure it did.
Drew hadn’t mentioned Jordan until today, and he’d never given any indication he wanted to put the brakes on things between the two of them. If anything, Drew had been the one continually asking for more. Nick was the obstacle here. But had Drew come down here to be closer to Jordan? What if Nick was just a distraction until he could reunite with his old boyfriend?
“Sitting and stewing isn’t going to do anyone any good,” Harris said. “Can you call Anne Marie and update her? Have her send us the info on the hotel too.”
Harris was right. Making calls and keeping track of arrangements kept Nick busy for the rest of the drive to the hospital, which had probably been the point. He didn’t care—it was keeping his mind off the image of Drew lying in a pool of his own blood, which was what he saw every time he stopped actively thinking about something else.
Jackson called with Drew’s new room number right as they hit the lobby. He was waiting for them outside the door when they raced up. He held his arms out for a hug and Harris went straight to him with no hesitation, aggressively scenting his neck. Jackson returned the favor while Nick stood awkwardly to the side, wishing the door had a window so he could see how Drew was doing.
“Fuck, man. Your brother,” Harris said, his voice thick.
“You’re telling me,” Jackson said after he’d released him from the bear hug. “I’m the cop. If anyone’s supposed to get shot, it’s me.”
Harris laughed and wiped at his eyes. “Nick, this is Jackson. He’s Drew’s stepbrother. Jackson, this is Nick. He replaced Tate at camp.”
Jackson offered him a warm smile and a nod. Nick inclined his neck in greeting and was surprised when Jackson pulled him into a hug, though it was nowhere near as bone-crushing as the one Harris had received.
“Big shoes to fill. I hope you’re liking the camp,” he said after he’d released Nick. He looked at Harris. “Dad and Christa are about an hour and a half away. The doctor said she was going to wait till everyone was here before updating us, but from what the nurses have said and what the surgeon told me, things look good. Right now they’re keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get an infection and watching his lung in case it collapses.”
Nick didn’t think he could process any more information right now anyway.
“Is he awake?” he asked, nodding toward the door Jackson was still blocking.
“Yeah. Groggy as hell and totally high on pain meds, but he’s awake. I stepped out to wait for you and to give him and Jordan some space.” He rolled his eyes. “You know how they can be, Harry.”
Harry? Nick had known Harris for weeks now, and he’d never heard anyone call Harris by a nickname. How close was he to Drew’s family?
“Fuck off,” Harris said lightly. His heart rate surged when Jackson stepped in and flicked him on the nose, and Nick stared dumbly at them, wondering what the hell was happening. Were they flirting? Drew was on the other side of the door recovering from a near-fatal injury and Harris was putting the moves on his brother?
Pushed past the limits of his patience
, Nick growled and shouldered his way by them. Jackson’s eyebrows rose, but he stepped out of the way, letting Nick pass. He had twenty pounds of muscle on him, so Nick was under no illusions that if Jackson had wanted to stop him, he wouldn’t be closing his hand around the doorknob. He grunted his thanks and opened the door, but the sight that met him had him stopping in his tracks.
Drew was attached to what looked like dozens of monitors and wires, all of them beeping and flashing. He was still pale but had more color than the last time Nick saw him, but that could be because he was in the middle of a make-out session.
A werewolf—Nick assumed this was the infamous Jordan—was stretched out in the small hospital bed next to Drew, one hand carding through Drew’s hair and the other gently wrapped around his throat and cheek, supporting his head while they kissed. They were both fully clothed, but it looked intimate in a way Nick didn’t even have words for. This wasn’t a passionate heat-of-the-moment kiss. It was full of tenderness and shared history, like they’d been in this position many times before.
It was exactly the kind of kiss Nick wanted to give Drew, but he couldn’t compete with this. They didn’t have a history—they had a one-night stand and a few weeks of flirting and stolen kisses.
Nick swallowed hard. If this was what Drew wanted, the least he could do was let him have it. After all, they weren’t together. Nick had panicked when Drew had started talking about wanting a partner, not a casual relationship, in the SUV on the way to the clinic, and he’d overcorrected and implied he wasn’t ready to take that step. His hesitation echoed in his head as he backed out of the room and shut the door. He couldn’t blame Drew for seeking comfort with someone who loved him. Not when it was his own fault Drew had to look elsewhere for it.
Jackson squinted at him critically when he retreated.
“You okay, man? You can go in. He has a private room, and the nurse said visiting hours don’t count on this floor.”
Nick couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, but he shook his head.
“I know it looks bad, but he’s not in any pain right now. It was rough when they first brought him down because he hadn’t had his latest dose of morphine, but they gave it to him right away. He’s groggy but in pretty good spirits.”