Logan scowled. “What the hell do you think would happen if people found out about them? Huh?”
Zander frowned back and lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Who the fuck cares? I mean, come on. You yourself said that there’s a vampire out there manipulating me. You think that’s okay?”
Growling, Logan snapped, “Think about this, then. If you go public, one of two things will happen. One, no one believes you. You’re labeled as crazy. Your business suffers because others are leery of working with you.” As he spoke, he hated making accusations like that, but he needed his friend to pull his head out of his ass and think.
“You wouldn’t back me up?”
Zander’s gasped words made Logan growl low in his throat. “No, I wouldn’t,” he snarled.
“Why?”
“Why?” Logan ground out. “Because every minority group has at one time or is still currently being persecuted. What the fuck do you think would happen? I’ve already heard of secret groups experimenting on them,” he continued brusquely. His eyes narrowed. “How about this then? If something starts happening to them, my friend’s mates are in danger. I will never allow that to happen.” He leaned close, bringing him nose to nose with Zander. “Now, I’m headed to the farm with one of the shifters to take care of your goats. You think about that.”
Shoving to his feet, Logan turned away from his friend. He clamped his mouth shut, knowing his anger was getting the better of him…and if he said anything else, it’d be something he’d regret. Instead, Logan stalked out of the room, just managing to keep from slamming the door behind him.
“Whoa, easy does it, big boy,” a smooth feminine voice crooned. “Temper, temper.”
Logan turned to the right and the teasing female. He spotted a slender, well-endowed brunette. Her green eyes flashed and her full lips were turned up into a teasing grin. Feeling a bit off-kilter by her open teasing, Logan scowled. “What’s it to you?”
The woman’s left brow went up and she crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “Better watch your tone, handsome, or I’ll watch you tend your friend’s goats instead of helping.”
Cocking his head, Logan swept his gaze over the woman again, taking in her cocky confidence. “Adriana?”
“Got it in one,” she responded. Lowering her arms, she rested one hand on her hip and lifted the other hand toward Logan’s face. “Nice scar. I bet there’s a story behind that.” Her eyes took on an assessing glint. “I’d like to hear it some time.”
Logan jerked his head backward, away from her reaching fingers. “Another time, perhaps,” he rumbled. “Let’s get to Zander’s ranch. I’m sure his goats are wondering where their supper is.” He used the excuse to step around her and move toward the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder, but not at her. Instead, he hesitated as desire to check on James before leaving filled him.
“Okay,” Adriana responded, eyeing him speculatively.
Just resisting the urge to shake his head—whether at himself or at her, Logan wasn’t certain—he gave into his need and headed to James’ room. Well, where he rested anyway. Logan vaguely remembered Aaric saying this was his home.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Adriana snapped, having followed him. “Aren’t you the one who shot Jimmy?” She grabbed his forearm. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
Logan paused in the doorway. He frowned at where Adriana’s grip rested on him and just bit back a growl as he fought the urge to yank his arm away. He hated being confined…hated it. Ever since getting out of prison, he found he couldn’t be restrained in any way for any reason.
“Let go of me,” Logan hissed through clenched teeth.
“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Logan,” Adriana snapped. “Stay away from Jimmy. You don’t get to injure him again.”
A low, angry growl sounded through the open doorway, followed by James’ strained, raspy voice as he ordered, “Release him, Adriana. Do not detain my mate.”
Immediately, Adriana yanked her hand away from him as if burned. “Your mate?”
“Yes,” James responded gruffly.
Logan couldn’t find his voice, although he didn’t know if he’d confirm or deny the shifter’s claim. Except, as he turned toward the pale man lying in the bed—seeing James’ lips pinched tight in pain, his skin pale from blood loss, and sweat beading on his forehead—Logan knew he wouldn’t be able to deny the man.
I am so fucked.
Ignoring his inner fear, Logan strode toward the injured shifter.
He heard Adriana mumble, “You got shot by your own mate?”
“It was an accident,” Logan snapped.
At the same time, James stated, “It was my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have freaked out his friend.”
Logan felt his brows shoot up as he rested his hand on the bed beside the reclining male’s. His fingertips touched James’ own, who instantly moved his hand so their digits were intertwined. Logan grimaced. “I am sorry, James. I should have found a better way to keep the gun from him.”
“Wait, I thought you shot him?” Adriana stated, frowning at them both.
Logan shrugged. “We were both touching the rifle, struggling with it. It doesn’t matter who pulled the trigger as far as I’m concerned. I’m bigger and stronger. I knew about shifters. I should have stopped him.”
Chapter Six
Jimmy grunted and started to shift to the left, wanting to ease the pain stabbing through his right side.
“Whoa, easy there,” someone—a deeply voiced someone—murmured. A slight pressure to his hip kept him from rolling over. “Open your mouth,” the unknown male urged as he cupped his nape and pressed something to his lips.
His body shivered at the contact, the heat of the other male’s touch feeling hot and uncomfortable on his skin. Not recognizing the male’s scent, Jimmy attempted to turn his head. He struggled to open his eyes, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
“Logan, give me a hand here,” the stranger called.
In seconds, something cool and wet smoothed over Jimmy’s forehead and the heady scent of his mate flooded his senses. He moaned at the feel of the cold, soft fabric against his heated skin.
Oh, wow, that feels good.
“Come on, James,” Logan rumbled into his ear. “Take the medicine. It will make you feel better. Doctor Perseus came a long way to bring it to you.”
Trusting his mate wouldn’t hurt him—again—Jimmy parted his lips and accepted the…pill, he decided, rolling the tablet around his tongue. It tasted slightly bitter and started to break apart into gritty chunks.
“This is water,” the stranger who must be the doctor of which Logan spoke said to him.
Jimmy felt something else against his lips. “Drink,” Logan urged.
After sipping enough cool water to wash down the pill and moisten his dry throat, Jimmy mumbled, “What’s—” He paused, his throat dry again after just that word. The cup returned and Jimmy drank gratefully. Finally, he managed to ask, “What the hell happened?”
Last he could remember, Jimmy had watched Logan leave with Adriana to go feed Zander’s goats. He’d drifted off to sleep. Now, he could barely crack his eyelids open as he peered around the partially darkened room. Obviously, night had fallen. He felt hot, clammy, and sweat beaded his body. He wanted to kick off the blanket someone had covered him with, but he didn’t have the strength.
“I hate speaking ill of another, but your pack doctor is old-school…and not a very good surgeon,” the stranger stated softly. “The bullet actually hit your rib before ricocheting and lodging in your collarbone. It’s why the momentum was low enough that it didn’t shatter. However, it did chip your rib, which severed an artery.”
“It’s a good thing Nurse Leroy thought ahead enough to bring the portable X-ray machine,” Logan all but grumbled.
“When we found the chip, we realized we needed to re-open the wound,” a soft voice stated. While t
he speaker sounded feminine, the scent screamed human male. “We removed the bone fragment and stopped the internal bleeding.”
Gods above, that all sounds so serious.
“You could have died,” Logan whispered. “You could have died.” His voice cracked on that last word as he restated them. “I would never have forgiven myself.”
Jimmy forced his eyes open fully and he peered up at Logan. He hated seeing the lines of stress on Logan’s face, how his lips twisted, and the pain of self-flagellation in his eyes. Reaching for Logan’s hand where he continued to hold the cup, Jimmy squeezed his mate’s hand.
“We both could have done things differently,” Jimmy murmured.
Jimmy glanced toward the other occupants in the room. While he couldn’t hide his surprise upon flashing his gaze over a green, horned, winged creature, he didn’t linger, since he knew that must be Doctor Perseus, the gargoyle. The final male, a young blond human, stood off to the side, offering him a tentative smile.
Sighing, Jimmy really wished he could have said this while alone. “I know you’re taking the blame to shield your friend.” He tightened his grip, however much he could, when he felt Logan’s fingers tense. “I respect you for that, Logan,” he assured. “Now, you brought in help that saved me. For that, I can reduce the needed severity of your restitution.” Sucking in a harsh breath, he finished, “I can’t cancel it altogether because that would impact how others in the pack view you.”
Logan swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “James, I can’t—”
Thinking he knew what Logan was about to stay—that he couldn’t stay, couldn’t be with him, in a relationship with him—Jimmy blurted, “Because you caused me harm, you must serve me as I heal. It will be your job to make certain I’m taken care of until I’m well.”
His jaw gaping, Logan’s face became flushed with blood. “I’m to…you want me to care…but I don’t know how. I’m not a caregiver,” he whispered.
“Leroy,” the gargoyle rumbled. “You’ll need to walk Logan through what will be required of him in caring for a person healing from a gunshot wound, then surgery.”
“E-everything?” the human—obviously Leroy—all but squeaked.
Doctor Perseus jerked a nod, his dark eyes serious. “Everything. How to keep the wound clean. How to feed and medicate James.” He paused, his long, slender tongue sliding over his top canine for a second. “Don’t forget sponge baths and how to change his clothes.”
“But, why?” Leroy asked. “I’m here.”
“You won’t be doing it,” Logan whispered, his gaze remained focused on Jimmy. “I am.”
Jimmy prayed that, during the course of his healing, however long it took, Logan wouldn’t come to resent him. He knew the enforced proximity with his mate, one he’d be forced to see nude and touch regularly, would drive even a human to consummate the mate-bond. Before long, Logan would practically burn to complete their bond…just as he already did.
Jimmy wasn’t playing fair, and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t think of another way not only to fulfill the restitution, but to force his reluctant mate to give them a chance.
Hell. It would be hell for both of them.
“Leroy, go fetch the alpha. Let him know the beta has chosen the form of his restitution,” Perseus ordered.
The human nodded, then scurried from the room.
“Where is your home?” Logan asked softly, his attention still on Jimmy.
His head beginning to swim oddly, Jimmy smiled. “I got a cabin deep in the woods,” he mumbled. “It’s a little place. Two bedrooms. One bath. But it’s got a great den I turned into a fucking awesome man cave.” It hit him suddenly that his words came out slurred and he no longer hurt. “Shit,” he growled out, glaring at nothing.
“You okay? You still in pain?” Logan asked, instantly appearing concerned.
While Jimmy thought it a better look than despondent, worried, or pissed off, he couldn’t lie to him. “Not pain so much as disoriented,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m drunk, and I don’t like it.”
“Ah,” Logan murmured, smiling faintly. “Your systems are hampered by the drugs, but it’s not permanent. It’s just a side effect that will pass quickly into sleep.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he snapped, even as he felt the promised pull of sleep. “Hate being out of control.” The words came out mumbled, almost garbled, but Logan seemed to understand.
Logan leaned close and whispered, “You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep. Then, I’ll help take you to your home and I’ll fulfill my restitution to you.”
Nothing had ever sounded so good to Jimmy.
“Come on, James. Wake up.”
Logan’s concerned voice roused Jimmy from his slumber. Not liking the slightly sour scent of his mate’s worry, Jimmy tried to open his eyes.
“I see your eyelids fluttering. Come on, babe,” Logan urged. “Let me see those deep brown eyes.”
His mate’s soft touches to his cheeks registered, and Jimmy tried again. This time, he managed to crack open his left eyelid. He saw a distinct look of relief on Logan’s face as he peered down at him.
“There you are,” Logan whispered. “I’ve been worried. The doc thought you’d wake up when we moved you.”
Moved? Jimmy forced his other eye open and peered around the area. He recognized his bedroom. “When?” One word was all he managed to get out.
Logan grimaced. “Eight hours ago. Alpha Abbott and his mate showed me where you live. Doctor Perseus and Nurse Leroy helped me get you settled. The doc is still here,” Logan explained. “But Leroy went with Zander. I think one of your pack went with him, too, but I’m not certain who.”
“Mmm,” Jimmy mumbled. While his head felt a bit clearer than the last time, his body felt sweaty and achy. “What happened?” Surely there was a reason he felt like he’d been hit by a truck.
Settling into a chair next to the head of the bed, Logan reached toward him, a cloth in hand. Jimmy hummed with appreciation as the cool cloth slid over his heated skin. “You ended up with an infection because of the crappy job your pack doctor did on you,” Logan growled, clearly displeased. “She tried to blame it on the pain pills, but that’s utter bullshit and everyone knew it.” His hand paused in mid-stroke and his green eyes burned into Jimmy’s. “You gotta stop scaring me like that, James,” he whispered. “If we-If we mate, you can’t-I can’t—” He finally stopped trying to explain.
Jimmy thought he understood anyway, and while Logan said if they mated, Jimmy had no doubt that they would. He’d find a way to woo his mate, even in his weakened state. “I’ll be more careful,” Jimmy promised. As the pack’s beta, he had responsibilities that, at times, could be dangerous, but he knew he’d acted foolishly, shifting in front of strange humans. That kind of behavior he’d never do again…well, not at least without back-up. “I promise.”
Logan seemed to take his words at face value, for he jerked a single nod. Then, he once again started moving the cloth over Jimmy’s body, swiping down his temples, along his neck, and over his shoulders.
“Feels good,” Jimmy murmured. “Talk to me.”
Pausing, Logan cocked his head. “About what?”
“Anything.” He didn’t really care. He just liked listening to his mate’s voice. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone. “Yourself.”
“Uh, well,” Logan started. His brows drew together. “I was born in Grandview, Colorado. My dad left my mom when I was eleven, so she found a job in Durango.” He frowned. “I was a little shit for a while, until I made friends with Marty Beakman. He helped me settle down some…for a little while, at least.”
Jimmy tried to imagine that. Logan McByrne running wild. He seemed so steady, so loyal now. Taking in the man’s scrunched brows and how that caused the scar marring his right cheek to twist the skin oddly, Jimmy knew at one time that his human must have been pretty wild.
“I fell in w
ith a bad crowd and got caught joy-riding in a stolen vehicle,” Logan admitted. “I wasn’t driving, which is the only reason I wasn’t tried as an adult. I still spent six months in juvie.” He tossed the cloth aside and rested his elbows on the bed, leaning close. “When I got out, I vowed never to go back, but I was still an idiot, doing things I shouldn’t. Marty and his brother, Matthew, they caught me pawning a stereo another guy had jacked. They beat the shit out of me.”
Growling low in his throat, Jimmy reached over and grabbed Logan’s hand. “I thought you said Marty was your best friend?” He’d been in and out since getting shot, but Jimmy was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined that.
Logan chuckled roughly. “He is and always will be. Getting a beat-down from them was the best thing they could have done for me.” He grinned crookedly. “Knocked some sense into me, you could say.”
Jimmy lowered his lids to half-mast and eyed his human. “Got a lot of anger in you, Logan?” he asked softly. “’Cause your dad left?”
Snorting, Logan scowled at the comforter. “Once upon a time. Yeah.”
Jimmy moved his hand up Logan’s arm to his neck. “Can I ask why he left?” He spoke softly, using his thumb to trace the top line of his scar.
Logan tensed, but he didn’t yank away, which was kind of what Jimmy had been expecting. Instead, he stated, “Couldn’t keep it in his pants.” In a cool tone he added, “He liked his women young with big tits. He liked sex but didn’t want to be a father.” He shrugged. “Take your pick. It doesn’t matter, though. I made my own family.”
“Marty?”
Logan nodded, then rose to his feet, finally pulling away. “Yep. Marty and Matt. Their mates. The guys I work with, Pedro and Paco. They stood beside me when my mom battled with ovarian cancer,” he stated. “It’s time I get some broth down you. You can’t get better if you don’t eat. Perseus is in roost right now, but he’ll want to check you when he wakes.”
Jimmy recognized an evasion when he heard one. As he watched Logan hustle from the room, he realized he and his mate had very different upbringings. He hoped they could find some common ground.
Restitution From His Mate Page 5
