by Aiden Bates
“Yeah? You’ll go with me?” Kaleb closed his eyes, nodding. “Can go to the park after. Make out like teenagers. It’d be nice, right?”
“It would be,” I agreed, running my thumb across his cheek to clear away some of the blood. “But you’ve gotta keep your eyes open, honey. You can’t go passing out on me again.”
“I’ve got my Omega dad’s ring, you know.” Kaleb’s hazels stared up at me, soft and bright. But I could see the heaviness in his eyelids, too. Every time he blinked, it looked like he was struggling to open them up again. “Not on me, but…back home, yeah. Shoulda brought it. Could’ve…y’know. Pulled it out of my pocket. ‘I love you, marry me, asshole.’ That kinda thing.”
I had to blink back tears. Even as I did it, there were only more to take their place. “You ridiculous thing. That’s a…a shitty excuse for proposal if I’ve ever heard one, Kaleb King.”
Kaleb laughed weakly. “Yeah, maybe so.”
I pressed a kiss to his temple, squeezing him tight to my chest. “You can do better than that.”
“Probably, huh?” He laughed again. “Gonna do it, too. Down on one knee and everything.”
“You have to be able to stand up first if you want to do that,” I pointed out. Immediately, Kaleb tried to shift into a sitting position, and I had to force him back down. “Not now, dummy. Later. When you’re better. Right now…just rest.”
When the ambulance arrived, Kaleb’s and Harper’s predictions came true. The police came with the paramedics, and whole lot of questions too. As surprised as I was that they didn’t just immediately cuff me and read me my rights, I guess I couldn’t blame them for that. Whether they recognized me or not, Kaleb and I were in someone else’s house with two unconscious suited strangers. It was only natural that they’d want to know how that had come about.
“Lawyer,” Kaleb croaked at me as the paramedics wheeled him away on a stretcher. “Lawyer.”
I looked between the two police officers standing between me and the front door and shrugged. “Right. I’d like to speak to a lawyer before I answer any questions, please.”
The cops shared a glance. The blonder of the two ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The redhead just extended his hand toward me.
“You’re not under arrest, son. We’d just like to see some ID.”
I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, all too aware that once I’d cooperated with them on the back half of the officer’s statement, the front half wouldn’t be true anymore.
Sure enough, as soon as they ran my ID, the handcuffs came out. As the blond officer tucked my head down, gently pushing me into the back seat of his police car, I wasn’t even afraid, though.
I’d spent the last month of my life completely wrapped up in fear. Kaleb had kept me safe from harm through it all, right down to the very last second of it. Now…
As I watched the ambulance speed off, I was just glad he was okay. He’d protected me enough for one lifetime.
Now, I’d finally gotten my chance to return the favor.
Whatever happened to me, as far as I was concerned, it was worth it as long as Kaleb would be all right.
The jail cell was more or less exactly the way I’d imagined it. The big, thick bricks of the room had been painted over with a thick coat of jarring white. The fluorescents made my head ache, and the bench beneath me was too hard to sleep comfortably on, but I didn’t feel all that tired anyway. I guessed the nocturnal schedule that Kaleb and I had taken up over the course of our investigation had been good in that regard. After they’d processed me and I’d traded my clothes for a set of baggy, bright orange scrubs, the biggest issue was what I should do with my time. I’d tried asking about Kaleb—how he was doing, if any of the officers had heard any updates from the hospital—but no one would tell me anything.
All I could do was sit and worry and wonder as the hours slipped by. Without my wristwatch or a clock in the cell, I couldn’t even watch them pass.
Instead, I spent my time alternating between playing out the worst-case scenarios and the best.
Worst case: Kaleb died. I ended up in prison. Bicroft and all the people connected to them got away with everything they’d done. They’d probably go on to do worse, too. No justice served. No murders avenged. With Randy on the run, they’d even have a scapegoat in me. Someone to blame for all of the chaos they’d sown.
The world would hate me. I’d give birth to Kaleb’s baby in prison. My parents would get custody—at least they’d be happy about that much. If I was lucky, they’d come visit.
If I wasn’t, I’d never see our child again.
But that was too depressing of a future to focus on, even from the inside of a jail cell. Especially from the inside of a jail cell. And for every worst-case scenario, there was a better turn-out on the other side of the coin.
A little house in a quiet little town. Fort Greene, maybe. Maybe somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where Kaleb and I could be together. Be happy. Raise our child in peace. We’d find a way to get me out of jail. Kaleb would recover, and I’d be there with him every step of the way. There’d be a baby room done up in soft colors, a rocking chair by the crib and a big kitchen to cook in just down the hall. I’d learn how to make big, healthy family dinners. Kaleb wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a stove ever again. A grill though, maybe—we could have Harper and Nick over on the weekends. Our children would play together in the backyard, running and laughing without a care in the world.
I could imagine it so vividly, I could almost taste the char on the burgers, the sweetness of caramelized onion, the sourness of the mustard between two lightly toasted buns. It was a better life. A better world. One that I would have never thought possible before I met Kaleb King. One that I’d give anything just to be able to live in—even just for one day.
“Derek Stillwell?” an officer called out as the thick door of my cell swung open.
I perked my head up, all too eager for news. “Have you heard from the hospital? Is Kaleb okay?”
“What?” The officer gave me a look like I was crazy, then shook his head. “No, son. Someone’s confessed to the crime you’re being held for. Looks like we, ah, made a mistake. You’re free to go.”
As he led me out, I couldn’t imagine what kind of shit Harper and Ernesto must have pulled together to make it possible. Had they found someone else to take the fall for me? Bribed a cop? Tricked someone, somehow? I had a feeling I was only just beginning to reckon the lengths that Kaleb and his family—biological or otherwise—would go for the people they loved. I just hoped that whatever they’d done, no one else had gotten hurt on my account.
There’d been enough of that so far for one lifetime, as far as I was concerned.
But when I was brought back through the front office of the station, I realized I’d been thanking the wrong lucky stars for my newfound freedom. It wasn’t Ernesto or Harper, or even Ernesto’s mysterious contact that was waiting for me out at the front desk.
My eyes widened with surprise as Randy glanced over toward me, his body jostled as an officer cuffed his wrists behind his back. There was still fear coursing through the browns of his irises, but beneath that, there was something else. A flash of courage. A hint of pride. He didn’t say anything to me as they took him through the door to processing. Just gave me a little nod—then he was gone.
“You should keep an eye on him,” I said, spotting the blond officer who’d first brought me in. “There are people out there who aren’t going to be happy that you’ve brought him in. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried to shut him up before the FBI arrives, if you catch my drift.”
The blond officer didn’t look surprised. Instead, he glanced around the station, like he was making sure that no one else had heard.
“Between you and me, Mr. Stillwell…you should keep quiet about that kind of thing around here.” He passed me a large Ziploc bag containing my clothes and the contents of my pockets, a furrow in his brow and sincerity i
n his eyes. “I’ll make sure he’s looked out for. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” I glanced around the room, unsure of what to do now that I had my freedom. “Do you think you could arrange a ride for me to the hospital, Officer…”
“Holland,” the blond supplied. “Sure. You can use the bathroom to get changed. Just through that door.” He pointed me in the right direction. “I’ll arrange for a car for you—someone you can trust. As an apology, if you’ll take it.”
“I’d like nothing more,” I assured him—but as I headed to go change, I found myself holding my breath.
I was free now. Randy had finally owned up to what he’d done, saving my ass in the process. But what about Kaleb? Had the doctors managed to save his life?
There was only one way to find out.
30
Kaleb
When I finally cracked my eyes open, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Derek’s body was curled against mine, his head tucked just beneath my arm, his cheek resting against my chest. His eyes were closed, their dark gold lashes peaceful and still as he slept.
It was like waking up in a dream. Vaguely, I recalled shots being fired. A dagger of glass in my thigh, the lights and sounds of sirens all around. But with Derek there in bed next to me…it was almost as if none of it had ever happened at all. A nightmare—a bad one. Nothing more.
But then I heard the beeping of a pulse monitor. Breathed in that strange hospital smell, something soft pink and powdery mixed with bleach. When I looked to my other arm, the one Derek hadn’t wrapped around himself, I found a thick wrapping of bandages bracing it to my body and a set of IVs implanted in the crook of my elbow.
Not a nightmare, then. It had all been real. But somehow, against all odds, Derek wasn’t in jailhouse orange, handcuffs, or even ankle monitors. He wore the same clothes he’d been wearing that night at Randy Argent’s house. I wore an ugly blue and white hospital gown.
He’d gotten me to safety—and he’d managed to keep himself safe as well. I smiled at that, only to find that smiling made my face hurt something fierce. A gentle probing of my face revealed another thick set of bandages around my nose, held in place by medical tape, and several stitches on my face—probably from all the broken glass. My body ached just as badly. Not the pleasant twinging of muscles after a long day at the gym—no, this was exhausted ache. Just-took-a-beating ache.
“It’ll feel better in a couple of weeks,” a familiar voice said as I winced at the pain. “Trust me. If anyone knows what getting the shit kicked out of you feels like…it’s me.”
He was a sight for sore eyes—and mine were sorer than they’d ever been. Wearing a snapback turned backwards, a Def Leppard t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and ripped all the way down to the hem, and a pair of baggy gym shorts, he might have just come from a workout in LA or a pre-fight briefing in Vegas. My younger brother Rusty was all muscle—the tallest of us all, and, as he would never let us forget, the fittest too. The strongest, since he spent seven days a week, 365 days a year pumping iron and gulping down protein powder.
And despite our best efforts to the contrary, Rusty was by far the best at taking a punch.
“Jesus,” I swore softly. “If you’re here, I must’ve been out for, what? Two years or somethin’?”
Rusty chuckled. “If I hadn’t thrown any matches, maybe. But I forfeited my next two fights. No sweat. You’ve only been out for two days.” He glanced down at Derek, still wedged into the hospital bed next to me, completely asleep. “Good thing, too. Hear you’re gonna be a dad. If it’d been two years, you woulda missed all the screaming, diaper-changing, spit-up swabbing parts of it.”
“Ah, thank fuck. You know how I love changing diapers.” I grinned, trying to shift up in the bed a little—but between Derek’s weight on my good shoulder and the stitches in my bad one, it was a motion that only left me hissing in pain. “Christ. They have to sew my arm back onto me or something?”
“Your arm? No. Your leg, on the other hand…”
I swallowed, not wanting to think about that right now. “It’s good to see you, Rust. Wasn’t sure if Harper’d been able to get ahold of you or not.”
“Oh, he got ahold of me,” Rusty assured me. “I gave him an earful for gettin’ you involved with this shit, too. But then when he called again to let me know you got shot…” Rusty sighed. “Vegas is a lot closer to Reno than Fort Greene was. I figured it was probably time to bury the hatchet and come see you.”
“Yeah, well, hope you brought a second one, then. The people we’ve pissed off by looking into this…”
Before I could fully explain the situation, Derek shifted in my arms, struggling awake and blinking up at me sleepily. It took him a second to realize that I was awake too—but as soon as he did, he leapt on me, throwing his body across mine and wrapping his arms around my neck.
“Kaleb!” he breathed. “You’re awake!”
“Awake and whole,” I confirmed. “Or, at least, headed that way. Thanks to you, sunshine.”
Derek pulled back with a smile. “No need to thank me. Wasn’t exactly going to let you bleed out in Randy fucking Argent’s bedroom, was I?”
“Suppose not. So, ah…Randy came through, then? Cleared your name and all?” I guessed. “If he hadn’t, s’pose you’d be in jail right now.”
“I spent a couple of hours in a cell,” Derek admitted, brushing my hair away from my face with his thumb. “But it was a small price to pay. Fuck, Kaleb, I was so scared you were done for.”
“Nah.” I waved his worries away, basking in the handsome glow of his perfect, smiling face. “Takes more than that to kill a King.”
“Still oughta tan your hide for getting involved in this shit,” Rusty informed me. “You two are damn lucky it played out the way it did.” The hard line of his lips softened into a smile. “I was gonna be so pissed if I had to go visit my new niece or nephew in a prison cell.”
“But my name is cleared now,” Derek assured me. “And you’re…well, you’re not dead, at least.” He dipped down to press a hard, energetic kiss to my lips, then slipped off the bed. “I’ll go get the nurse—they’ll want to know that you’re awake.”
Rusty and I watched him go—Rusty shaking his head, and me…
Well. Like I’d told Derek, I was injured, not dead. If I couldn’t watch my Omega’s jaw-dropping ass in those perfectly fitted jeans of his, I might as well have gone back to sleep then and there.
“Surprised you landed such a good guy,” Rusty commented when Derek was out the door.
“Har har. Very funny.” Still, I couldn’t help but smirk. “He’s incredible, isn’t he? You get to talk to him much while I was out?”
“Only for about every waking hour of the last two days.” Rusty returned my smirk. “He says you snore.”
I rolled my eyes. “He would. But I’m glad you’ve gotten a chance to know him a little. Safe to say you two like each other?”
“Good thing, too. Not sure if you recall, but you were trying to propose to him as you were bleeding out.”
I mentally kicked myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t joked about it, threatened it, fantasized about it and more, but… Jesus, past-Kaleb. There was a time and a place for that kind of thing. I’d managed to fuck up both.
“Kind of hoped he might’ve forgotten about that,” I grumbled. “Christ, I’m an idiot.”
“Nah. He seemed pretty chipper about the idea. Reckon when you get hold of our Omega dad’s ring, you ought to do it again.” Rusty crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a stern look. “But do it right this time, for fuck’s sake.”
I laughed. “As soon as Derek and I get back to Fort Greene. And, I guess, as soon as I can get down on one knee again without ripping my stitches out.”
“Looking forward to seeing it. Guess I’ll have to help you plan this time, since you screwed it up so royally the first time around.”
“Yeah? Gonna Skype me from all the way in—where are you headed to next
? Bangkok? London?”
Rusty stroked his jawline. “I was thinking somewhere a little more…rural, actually. Fort Greene’s nice this time of year, right?”
My jaw dropped a little. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? Harper’s still recovering from his last tussle. You’re on the mend too now. Lucky you’re not rolling out of here in a set of adult diapers and a colostomy bag or somethin’, frankly.”
“Rust…you’d be walking into a full-on shit storm. If you’re lucky, you can keep your head down and it’ll pass you by. But if you’re looking to get yourself messed up in this thing…you’re gonna wish for a colostomy bag just to help manage this crap.”
Rust shrugged. “I figured as much. But hell, what else are brothers good for, right? Clearly, you need a hand from your athletically superior younger bro before one of you dumbasses goes and gets yourself killed.”
I scowled. “I’ve taken more bullets than you, kid.”
“Yeah, and where’s that gotten you? Besides, I’ve got more KOs under my belt. In fact, I’ve got the belt to prove it.”
“Not for long, now that you’ve forfeited your matches,” I pointed out.
“Pfft. I’ll get it back. What, like it’s hard or somethin’?”
Derek rapped at the doorway, interrupting our brotherly Alpha pissing contest with the nurse at his side. “You two done bickering? The nurse wants to give Kaleb a final once-over now that he’s awake, see if she can talk the doctor into an early discharge.”
Rusty held his hands up in surrender, backing away—and checking out the nurse while he was at it. He might have been better at keeping his nose clean these days than when he was a teenager, but old habits died hard. Alphas, Omegas, women—when it came to my horndog of a younger brother, some things never really changed.
It took a lot of wheedling with my doctor, and a healthy heaping of sweet-talking to the nurse on Rusty’s part to boot, but two hours later, Derek was wheeling me out toward the car that Ernesto had loaned us back when our journey first began.
