Long Road Home

by Chandra Ryan

  He glanced at the hand but had to shift his focus to the wall. The sight of Hank’s skin on his overwhelmed him. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.” The hunger in his voice betrayed him. The husky tone echoed in his head as if it were a death knell. No way Hank would be staying with him now.

  “I like your optimism.” His thumb slid over the sensitive skin on Thom’s upper arm causing him to shiver.

  Damn. The man has no right to be so sexy.

  “It’s great to see you haven’t let the attackers affect your outlook.”

  Silence told him Hank must be done with his pep talk, but he didn’t take a step back. He continued to torment Thom by caressing him with his thumb. He took a second to steady himself before saying, “I’m sorry for the damage to your truck but, as far as I’m concerned, I got off easy.”

  “Don’t worry about my truck.” He released Thom so he could sweep the hand through the air in a brushing motion. Thom had to bite his lip not to moan in disappointment. “The only thing you should be focused on right now is healing.”

  His heart sank with disappointment at the concern in Hank’s voice. He’d never liked being fussed over but found he hated it when the strong virile man before him looked at him with sympathy. “You’re making too big a deal out of me being injured. The bullet didn’t hit anything major.”

  “You collapsed.” Hank’s voice was strained.

  “I was in shock. I’d never been shot before. Then the pain meds they gave me in the ambulance made me fuzzy. I’m feeling better now.”

  Hank studied him, his warm brown gaze sweeping over Thom’s body from his head to his toes as if he somehow had X-ray vision. The room warmed by five degrees while Hank stared at him. “Okay.” Hank stood and walked to the door. “I’m going to go see to my truck and the delivery to Los Lobos.”

  “Oh.” The sudden change from concerned to dismissive made Thom dizzy. “Okay.”

  “Do you have any family in the area?”

  “No.” His chest ached with the admission. He hated admitting he was the only McKay left. “I’m it.”

  “I’ll be back to pick you up when you’re discharged.”

  “I might not have family, but there are people I can call.” He didn’t know if the drugs were starting to wear off or if he’d had enough sympathy, but the look of pity had started to piss him off. Sure, he liked it when the trucker touched him—even if the touch had been intended to comfort. Since Hank no longer touched him, he no longer had to put up with the man’s compassion. “I’m sure one of my friends will give me a ride.”

  Hank paused with his hand on the doorknob. His jaw tensed as if he was clenching his teeth but then he took a long, slow breath. “I’ve been told can be overbearing. I understand if you think I’m overstepping. You only met me today. You were shot in front of me, however.” He turned the knob and opened the door. “I don’t have it in me to watch another person go down in a puddle of blood and not give a damn what happens to them. I’m not an asshole. If you need to have a friend give you a ride home, I get it. Still, I would like to be the one to drive you. We may not be friends, but I do care about what happens to you.”

  The door swung closed. When it clicked softly, he picked up his phone. He would call his friends and let them know he’d be okay. To leave them worrying would be a dick move. He wouldn’t, however, ask for them to come get him. Hank had been correct in his assentation. They weren’t friends. He didn’t really want to be friends with the man. He’d be lying to himself if he claimed the idea of being in the close confines of a car with him didn’t appeal. The thought alone made his breath catch.

  Yeah, he’d let Hank give him a ride. He ran his fingers over his arm where the man had touched him. When he was home, he’d show Hank he didn’t need nor did he want his pity. There were several things he did want from the man, like strong, calloused hands running all over his body. Pity didn’t make the list.

  Chapter Three

  It was late in the day when Hank raced back to the McKay farm in the rental pickup truck Drew had dropped off for him. He did his best to focus on the road ahead of him, but he couldn’t stop his attention from wandering. The farmer had taken up residence in his head.

  Sure, his Wolf felt protective. He hadn’t been lying to the man. He couldn’t walk away after watching someone get hurt but it was more than protectiveness. When Thom had told him he didn’t have any family, the answer had resonated with him. He had been alone for a decade.

  When he’d come out to his parents, they’d disowned him. On good days, he believed the move had been to save their lives. Magnum killed any dissenters. On bad days he didn’t want to be as charitable with their motivation. A lot of Wolves didn’t hold with homosexuality. They found the orientation unnatural. His parents kept to tradition. They might have been ashamed of him. In the end, both arguments were moot. He’d never know why his parents disowned him. They’d died in a fire a year after he’d been kicked out of the pack. Smoke inhalation had cut the most important ties he had to the Tao Pack. Or, at least, he’d believed the fire had at the time.

  He’d mourned them alone in some truck stop in an Illinois backwater town. The next morning, he’d finished his run and gotten on with his life. He hadn’t looked back until this trip. Coming home changed everything. Being back in Los Lobos made the ache in his chest raw.

  Sorrow clogged his throat and made his eyes burn. He didn’t have time to mourn. He needed to figure out what had happened at Thom’s farm. He pushed the emotion away and focused on the road. Keeping his eyes and his mind trained on what lay ahead had always kept him sane—and alive.

  He parked the truck next to his semi before he jumped out of the cab. The ground squished beneath his feet. A recent storm had softened the earth. He bet the rain had washed all trace of their attacker away as well. He’d still check as soon as he’d taken a look at his semi. Finding some clue, no matter how small, might mean the difference between life or death for Thom. He knew whoever had taken the shot would be back eventually to finish the job.

  The semi’s ruined tires had all been replaced. Indentations in the ground indicated the work had been done after the rain. The ground had been too hard before the storm to show any trace of a jack. The scent of two Wolves still clung to the air. He’d put money on the scents belonging to Drew’s mechanic and another Wolf there to watch the mechanic’s back.

  He turned his attention to countryside. Dark and dense woods circled the farm. The environment didn’t intimidate him. He’d grown up in similar forests. Twigs and shrubbery crunched under his boots as he explored the area. He didn’t see any evidence of an active investigation other than some yellow tape. Not a huge surprise. They occupied a small section of a very large state. He doubted the shooting would even make the larger news venues.

  He made sure not to cross the yellow tape as he explored, though. The investigation, as small as it might be, deserved to be respected. Instead of focusing on the spot where the shots had been fired, he hiked up the steep embankment and down to the valley below. He didn’t find any tracks, but broken branches on saplings and disturbed rocks led the way. When he followed the obscure path to the road he found a set of muddy tire tracks waiting for him.

  After pulling his phone out of his pocket, he took a couple of quick photos. He needed to make a quick call and he’d be able to return to his truck.

  “This is Detective Lee.”

  He stared at the tracks as he held the phone to his ear. “This is Hank. We met at the hospital earlier.”

  “The McKay shooting, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m out at the McKay farm and noticed some suspicious tire tracks a quarter mile from the farm off the main road. Wanted to let you know in case they might have something to do with the case.”

  The detective was silent for a moment. “You aren’t actively investigating the shooting, are you?”

  “Nope.” The lie slipped easily through his lips. He’d practiced the art
of deceit his entire life. “I only noticed them on my way out and stopped to take a look. Thought you might be interested.”

  “Okay. I’ll have someone come out and take a cast of them in case they are related to the case.”

  “Thank you. They’re a quarter mile north of the farm. Can’t miss them.”

  “I appreciate you keeping an eye out, but I want to impress upon you the danger of civilians investigating active cases. Especially when it’s an attempted murder.” The detective sighed over the phone. “You would be putting yourself into real danger. Or you might jeopardize the crime scene. We don’t want this guy to walk because evidence was corrupted or compromised.”

  He rolled his eyes. Hank didn’t need the court for justice. If the police or DA screwed up the case and the assailant went free, he would track him down and tear his throat out. He didn’t plan on sharing the solution with the detective. “I understand. I promise, I discovered the tracks by accident. I didn’t go looking for evidence or anything.”

  “Okay. Thank you for calling me.”

  “Happy to help.” He disconnected and then had Thom’s men help him load the crops into his rig. He had a job to do. The pack needed food.

  The two-hour trek back to Los Lobos went by quickly. As he drove into the tiny settlement, a ball of nervous energy formed in the pit of his stomach. Earlier, he’d driven into the town because Drew wanted to talk to him. He’d been a stranger visiting. He assumed he’d be on the road before anyone knew he’d come back. This time, he was officially working for the pack.

  He parked his truck in front of Gee’s Place and took a deep breath. Walking into the bar would start tongues wagging. Small communities love gossip. He hated being talked about, but being the center of the chatter was unavoidable.

  The door to the truck swung open easily with a gentle pull of the handle and a nudge from his shoulder. His feet moved sluggishly toward the building, but they did move. One tug on the old door and nostalgia washed over him. He’d come home.

  Fear warred with longing in his chest. Everything he ever wanted yet had to forsake surrounded him. He cleared the emotion out of his throat and made his way to the bar. Gee stood behind it watching him cross the floor. The substantial man’s face resembled tanned leather, his long black hair had been tied back into a braid, and the aroma of bear surrounded him as it always did. Even over the scent of grease hovering in the air, he had no problem placing the scent. He’d always liked Gee. The bear shifter had been fair.

  “I’ve seen a lot of homecomings since Drew came to power. Have to admit, didn’t expect to see yours.”

  Hank sat down and threw a twenty on the bar. “Yeah. I’ve heard Satan moved to Florida. Something about his domain freezing over.”

  Gee laughed and pulled a glass out from under the bar. “What can I get you?”

  “Burger, fried pickles, and a beer.” The order had been his standard before he left.

  Gee nodded before heading over to a tap. “You here to stay or passing through?”

  “Jury’s still out. I’m not hating it here.”

  He handed the order ticket to the man in the kitchen before saying, “I think you’d like it here. If you decide to give it a chance.”

  “I’m keeping an open mind. Drew asked me to do a couple of supply runs for the pack.” He took a drink and sighed with relief. “Spent most of the day over at McKay’s place. I have a load of fresh produce in the back of my rig. I would appreciate it if you’d have a couple men unload it.” At the mention of the man’s name, his face heated and his stomach clenched with desire. He shouldn’t have touched Thom as long as he had at the hospital. The memory had been burned into his brain.

  “Drew told me to expect a shipment. Thought it would be coming earlier in the day, though. Give me a second to round up some men with strong backs.” Gee put his dish towel down and went into the kitchen. When he came back, he said, “We should have it unloaded in an hour.”

  “Thanks. Sorry about the delay.” He took a drink of his beer. “Didn’t mean to inconvenience anybody.”

  “No problem. I heard there was some excitement up at the McKay farm today.”

  He drained he beer in one final gulp. “I’m sorry, what?” Had Gee seen the heat in his cheeks? Was his blush how he knew to call him on the attraction?

  “Police and ambulance were called.”

  He relaxed as he realized Gee hadn’t been talking about his feelings toward the human farmer. “Oh. I don’t know if I’d call the experience exciting. Someone shot up my rig and then tried to kill McKay. Crazy, huh? He’s a good guy. Not sure why anyone would want to hurt him.”

  “Never did understand humans,” Gee said with a shake of his head. He ducked back into the kitchen and grabbed Hank’s food before coming back to the bar. “They think shifters are monstrous beasts of movies and legends, but when we kill, we have a good reason.”

  “I’ve been gone too long to know much about McKay or his farm.” He shoved a good portion of the burger into his mouth after he spoke. It wasn’t exactly five-star dining, but it filled an empty stomach. “Can you think of any reason somebody might attack him?”

  Silence hung between them for a second or two. “He’s a pretty good kid. Drew thinks he’s an honest businessman. I can’t imagine he’s pissed anybody off.”

  “Heard any rumors about the land going up in value around here?”

  “This far out in the middle of nowhere?” Gee shook his head. “Naw. Investors can’t put a neighborhood out here. Nobody would make the commute. The only person who’d want McKay’s land is another farmer.”

  “Figured as much.”

  A large Wolf walked in from the kitchen and nodded. “The rig is unloaded.” He moved to leave, but then stopped. “Thanks.”

  The word of gratitude made him lighthearted, but he pushed the sensation away. “I’m only doing my job.” Hank finished the rest of his food in record time and then slid off the stool. “Thanks for the grub, old man.”

  “Are we going to be seeing more of you?” Gee took the empty plate and glass and put them in a large plastic tub.

  “I’ll be in town while Thom is in the hospital, but then I’m going to be staying over at McKay’s until he’s healed. Got to protect the food source,” he added quickly. “After he’s out of danger, who knows?”

  “If you don’t have anyplace lined up, you can have one of the rooms upstairs.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’d be nice to have you around again. Growing up here was rough for you. Things have changed, though.”

  “I’ll take you up on the offer, then.” He wanted to come back. He respected Drew as an Alpha. Not knowing if they wanted him—the real him, had started to sting. The offer of the room, however, had given him some hope. Maybe he could make Los Lobos his home.

  ***

  Three days later, Thom sat in silence as Hank drove him to his farm. He’d never been so helpless before in his life and he hated every second of it. “You’re semi is still here,” he said as they pulled up the drive. He wanted to kick himself when he said the words. He hadn’t said two words this whole trip, and those were the ones he’d decided to start with? “Sorry. I can imagine you’ve been busy over the last couple of days, but it sounded like Drew wanted the delivery rushed.”

  “Which is why I already took the delivery to Los Lobos.” He pulled to a stop next to the rig. “I wanted to have my schedule cleared for your release so I could spend my time looking after more important things.”

  Thom, for example, might be one of those more important things. The realization made a thrill of excitement race through his body. “Back at the hospital, when you offered to help out until I’d healed, I didn’t respond well. I’m sorry.”

  “You’d been shot and on pain meds.”

  “No. I hated admitting I need help, but I do. Thank you.”

  He put his hand on Thom’s uninjured leg. “You don’t need to th
ank me for something any decent person would do.” Their gazes caught and for one brief moment he thought Hank swayed toward him, but before he knew for certain the other man moved away and opened his door. “Give me a sec and I’ll be right around to help you out.”

  If he hadn’t apologized a second ago for being a dick about accepting help, he would’ve refused. Since he had, however, he grimaced but sat patiently. His reward for his good behavior came when Hank wrapped an arm around his waist to help him steady himself. The scent of soap and cloves surrounded him. The aroma made an intoxicating combination.

  “Lean on me. I’ve got you.” Hank squeezed his waist as he said the words.

  “They gave me crutches.”

  Hank started to guide him toward the small farmhouse. “Which is fine after the meds have completely worn off, you’re on a nice level ground, or after you’ve healed a bit more. I don’t want to have to take you back to the hospital because you tripped over a root or didn’t see a stone.”

  “I’m not complaining.” The words rushed out and jumbled mix of nerves and medication. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

  The warm, rich laughter breaking from Hank made Thom buzz. “Don’t worry. No feelings of obligation here. Lots of other crazy-ass emotions, but not obligation.” If his ear hadn’t been so close to Hank’s mouth, he wouldn’t have heard his mutter.

  “Still, I do appreciate it.” He looked at the semi. “Doesn’t your girl get lonely while you’re on the road?” His stomach cramped at the obvious question. Saying, Hey, do you go for girls or guys, would’ve been more subtle.

  “Nope.”

  He bit his lip to keep from groaning in disappointment. He’d have to dig a little deeper or drop it altogether. “Cool. I’ve got friends who have clinging girlfriends. Makes everything more difficult.”

  “Yep.” He laughed as he helped Thom up the porch stairs.