by Leigh Carman
Without waiting for a response, I push him out of the way and dash for the door. Maybe I can catch Toby before he leaves. Colton Rivers grabs me, and I’m so furious, I nearly tear his head off just for touching me.
“Hey, man. That was awesome.” He slaps my back. “I’m proud of you.”
I blink in surprise. “Uh, thanks.” Behind him, I catch sight of Cal giving me a huge smile. He lifts his beer to me in a toast before taking a swig.
Rivers drops his hand. “Go get your man. I’ll deal with these assholes.”
I nod and continue toward the door, dazed at what I just did. Did I just come out to my team? My chest constricts, and my head is spinning. By the time I hit the sidewalk, I’m nearly in a full-out panic attack. Outside, I inhale the cool night air and bend over, bracing my hands on my thighs as I suck in breath after breath.
Fuck, I just came out. Holy shit.
As my senses return and my breathing becomes normal, I shake my head and grin. I want to laugh. I just fucking came out. Then I remember Toby and the look on his face when he saw me standing there, doing nothing as my teammates tore him to shreds. Shit!
I bolt around the building, hoping to see Toby’s tiny car yet knowing I’m probably too late to catch him. The place is crowded, but I’m tall, so I can scan the lot as I walk down the middle of the rows.
There! I spot the compact sedan and speed up until I’m almost running to get to him before he leaves. When I stop a row away from the car, I notice the front seat is empty. I spin around, doing a three-sixty search of the parking lot. Nothing.
Where the hell could he be?
As I get closer to the car, I notice it moving, not much, just a slight shift on its back shocks, and narrow my eyes in confusion. I approach slowly and glance in the front windshield. No one in the front seats. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement in the back. When I circle the car, I can tell someone is lying across the backseat. It’s dark, but I immediately note it’s not Toby simply because the person is much too big.
Baffled, I step closer. That’s when I hear a broken cry and I notice another person beneath the one on the seat. My heart is thundering in my ears as I reach out and open the door.
Son of a bitch!
A man is on top of Toby, trying to wrestle Toby’s pants off while holding him facedown on the seat.
“You motherfucker!” Blinded by rage, I grab the man by the throat and yank him out of the car, stiff dick hanging out of his open fly and a shocked look on his face.
“What the—?” Recognition flashes across his face, and his skin goes white. He holds his hands up. “No, no, man. He wanted it. You don’t know how he is.”
I close my eyes and struggle to not squeeze my hands, which are still around his neck. To not choke the life out of him for hurting Toby. When I open them back up, my fury is so palpable I can taste it, bitter and hot. My vision is a hazy red, and the man’s words are drowned out by the primal urge to kill him for touching and hurting what’s mine.
It’s too much. I can’t fight the instinct. My fingers tighten, and the guy makes a retching noise. He claws at my hands, and I see my blood dripping down from the scratches he inflicts but can’t feel a thing. The guy’s face begins to turn red, then purple, and still I tighten my grip.
“Van!” Someone grabs my hands and tries to pry my fingers off his neck, one at a time. “Van! Come on, man. Come back to me, Archer!”
I let go and gasp, inhaling a huge breath, not realizing I had been holding it while cutting off the oxygen to the man who is now collapsed on the ground, coughing and choking. Cal is standing in front of me, his brow furrowed in concern.
“What…?” I slowly come around, the air clearing my head. “Fuck. Toby!” I tear out of Cal’s hold and dive into the cramped backseat. “Toby, baby,” I cry, my voice breaking. Carefully, I brush the hair back from his face. My heart breaks at the sight. Blood is trickling down his face from his hairline, and deep bruises are already blooming on his pale skin. His pale eyelids flutter open, then close heavily. “Cal! He’s nearly unconscious!”
“I already called the police,” Cal says. “I’m watching this asshole. You take care of your man.”
“Come on, baby,” I beg, pulling Toby into my lap. His head lolls back when I gather him to my chest, blood matting his hair and dripping down his face. “Fuck.” A sob rips from my throat, and I lose it. “Please, baby. Stay with me.” I press my nose into his hair, tears dripping from my cheeks and dampening the strands. “I love you, Toby. I’m so sorry.”
When the paramedics arrive, I’m freaking out so much Cal has to talk me into letting them take Toby out of my arms. Cal promises to meet me at the hospital as I climb into the ambulance, unwilling to be separated from Toby for even a single second.
Watching the medics cut off Toby’s clothing, exposing his battered and bruised body, sends me into another irrational fit of rage, and it takes one of the EMTs several minutes to calm me down and assure me they’re not going to hurt Toby.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant over and over, clutching my head and pulling at my hair.
We reach the hospital, and a team in white coats and green scrubs comes outside, taking the stretcher from the paramedics and whisking Toby away. I hop down to follow, but a man in a security uniform blocks the door.
“You can’t go down there.”
“Get out of my way,” I snarl, ready to tear this guy to pieces for keeping me from Toby.
“Listen, you don’t want to make a scene and be recognized. I’ll get you settled in a quiet waiting room right nearby, okay? But you’ll only be in their way if you’re freaking out in the room while they’re treating him.” I look into the guy’s eyes and see only kindness and sincerity.
The adrenaline from earlier worn off, I sag in defeat. “Okay.”
The guard brings me to an empty room off the ER, down a quiet hall filled with offices. “This is the Director of Emergency Services’ office. I’ll tell them you’re in here.”
I give him a stiff nod, and he leaves me alone to replay the horrific scene over and over in my head until I’m nearly insane with worry. Even Cal, Colton, and a few other teammates arriving thirty minutes later can’t stop my downward spiral. The only thing I need is somewhere in this hospital, broken, because I’m a fucking coward who couldn’t be what he needed.
Toby
“I’M DARLENE, and I’ll be back in a little while to check on you.” I blink at the kind middle-aged nurse, and she gives me a small smile. Just as my eyes flutter closed, she stops and speaks again. “There’s someone here to see you. Are you up for a visitor?”
I twist my neck in her direction and grimace when the movement makes the room spin. “Who?” I croak.
Darlene comes to my side and takes my hand, grinning. “A real cutie. He said he’s your boyfriend.”
I try to sit up and dry heave when the dizziness overwhelms me. “It’s not Austin, is it?” A spike of fear stabs me in the heart, sending my pulse racing, the monitor beeping wildly.
The nurse frowns. “No, sweetie, he’s not named Austin. Here.” She pushes me back down on the pillows piled behind me. “Stay still, you have a mild concussion.” Then, I swear, she actually giggles. “The guy out there? It’s Van Archer. The hunky wide receiver for the LA Wild Cats.” She pauses. “Do you actually know him?”
Van? Here? Boyfriend?
“I-I don’t understand.” My lips are dry and cracked. I lick them, but there’s not a drop of moisture in my mouth, so it does nothing. Darlene lifts a cup with a straw to my lips, and I take a sip, grateful for her thoughtfulness. She puts it back on a table. “He really said he was my boyfriend?”
She nods, still smiling, a sparkle in her bright blue eyes. “Yep. I mean, I never would have thought he was gay….” She pauses and squeezes my hand. “But the way he’s acting, making a ruckus out there, how worried he is about you…. Honey, that boy is head over heels in love with you.”
“I-I don’t know w
hat to say,” I admit, completely confused. The last time I saw Van, he was pretending not to know me while his teammates gave me hell.
“I guess you need to decide if you want to see him. But let me tell you, if I have to go out there and tell him you said no….” Darlene shudders dramatically. “Let’s just say I don’t think he’ll take that news very well.”
Then Darlene does something I wouldn’t have thought possible. She gets me to laugh. “Ow.” I clutch my side, cutting my laugh short.
“Don’t laugh, honey. You have a cracked rib.”
Of course I do. I sigh, so tired I can’t even begin to process the events of tonight. “Send him in.”
She pats my hand. “Good choice, because if I had Van Archer threatening to tear into people and sue the hospital if he couldn’t see me? Let’s just say I’d be over the moon.” Darlene brushes my sweaty hair back and leaves to get my “boyfriend.”
Not a minute later, the door flies open, and Van’s enormous form fills the space. He crosses to the bed in three huge steps and falls to his knees, clutching my hand and pressing his forehead to the back of it.
“God, Toby. I was so fucking scared.” The normally intimidating man crumples and sobs against my hand. “If anything had…. Jesus, I wanted to kill him.” His voice is so torn, so filled with agony, I want to reach over and caress his head with my other hand.
But he let his “friends” sling insults at me and did nothing to stop it.
“I can’t do this,” I croak, my own throat closing up as tears burn the backs of my eyes.
Van lifts his head, and I gasp. His green eyes are bloodshot and watery. Tears stain his face, which appears pale except for the deep purple circles ringing them. He clutches my hand harder, rubbing his rough stubble across the back.
“Toby, please.”
I blink back the tears and swallow. The lump in my throat nearly chokes me.
“I need you, baby. After seeing that… that sick fuck on top of you.” Van closes his eyes. A single drop of moisture escapes, winding its way down his cheek to disappear in the light growth on his chin.
I clench my jaw, sending a throbbing ache through my skull. “You let them hurt me, Van. Let your friends cut me down and didn’t say a word.” I meet his watery gaze, my own vision shimmering with tears. “Do you have any idea how that felt?” Unable to keep looking at him, seeing his pain that reflects my own, I stare out the window across the room.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I was surprised to see you, that’s all.” I shake my head and try to pull my hand out of his grasp, but he won’t let go. “I told them,” he whispers.
I jerk my head back in his direction and have to suppress the urge to vomit from the sudden motion. My free hand goes to my head, where a bandage is on my temple. “Unnnngh. Hurts.”
“You have six stitches, Toby.”
“What did you say?” I ask, staring back into those impossibly green eyes.
“You have six—”
“Not that. Before.”
Color rises in his cheeks, diminishing the pasty look of his skin. “I told them. My teammates.”
“Told them what?” I ask cautiously.
He lets out a long breath. “I told them I was gay.”
“What? When?” That damn heart monitor starts beeping again when my pulse rate rises.
“After you left the bar. I was so fucking pissed. What they said to you… about you… about me.” Van pauses to gather his thoughts. He kisses my hand and meets my gaze again. “I told them I was gay and that you were the man I love.”
The monitor beeps wildly, but all I can hear is the silence hanging between us. All I see is the truth in his statement, right there in his eyes, in the way he holds my hand, in the way he would bleed for me if he could.
“I-I….”
“You don’t have to say it back, Toby. I know I hurt you. I know you might tell me to leave and never see you again.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers down one side of my face. “I just wanted to tell you in case it was my last chance.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears drip off my face and onto the thin hospital gown. When I drag in a breath, a strangled noise escapes from my throat. It’s all too much. Van. Austin. His teammates. The attack.
Even though fire rips through my injured side with each sob and my head feels like it might explode, I break down, unable to stop as my chest heaves and my eyes leak and snot drips from my nose.
“Baby, don’t cry.” Van’s voice hitches, and he climbs up on the bed with me. He’s huge and the bed is tiny, but somehow he makes it work, cradling my head against his broad chest. I burrow into the warmth and cry into his shirt until I fall asleep.
WHEN I wake, it’s dark and the room is quiet. At some point, Van moved to the recliner next to the bed, where I can just make out his face in the shadows. He looks much, much younger when he sleeps. Less like the formidable hulk of a man and more like the sweet, kind guy I fell in love with.
Love. Van said he loves me. I feel the same, I know I do, but can I do this with him? Can he do this with me?
He told his teammates. Holy shit. That’s huge. If he’s willing to do that….
I stop thinking, rubbing my head. The painkillers must have worn off because it feels as if an elephant is standing on my skull. I remember the sight of Austin’s boot coming down and flinch. Did I pass out? I don’t remember. What else happened? My breathing accelerates, and I have trouble pulling air into my lungs.
“Baby?” Van is by the bed, speaking softly. “Toby,” he says louder. A monitor shrieks as I become light-headed, fighting with my own body to drag in some much-needed oxygen. “Toby!” Van cradles my face in his hands and slides his nose alongside mine. “Baby,” he murmurs. “You’re okay.” A small brush of warm lips across my mouth. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
The hammering of my heart begins to slow, no longer feeling as if it might burst out of my chest. The monitor responds, cutting off the alarm. I clutch Van’s wrists, keeping his hands on my face, desperately needing the contact to keep me sane.
“It’s fine. He’s okay,” Van says to someone who must have entered the room.
“Let me know if you need me,” the nurse replies. I hear the door click shut.
“Toby? You okay?”
I nod and close my eyes, waiting for my pulse to return to normal. Once it does, I sink into the pillows, drained.
Van lets go of my face, and I want to cry at the loss of his comforting touch. He pulls the chair over and picks up my hand.
“What just happened?” he asks, gently pushing my sweaty hair off my forehead with his free hand.
“Austin,” I whisper. Van’s hand twitches, and I don’t have to look to know hearing the name upsets him. I can’t meet his gaze, but I have to ask, “I don’t remember…. I wasn’t sure if…. Did he…?”
“No,” Van growls. He drops my hand and stands, pacing the room like a caged animal. He rakes his hands through his hair and stands at the end of the bed. “That fucker had you in your car, facedown on the backseat.” I blanch, the blood draining from my face. “He was trying to….” Van drops his chin to his chest and takes a deep breath. “He was trying to rape you, Toby.” Van lifts his head, pinning me with a look so heartbreaking I nearly break. “Has he done that to you before?”
Shame rushes through my body, and I glance away.
“That motherfucker,” Van hisses, correctly interpreting my silence as confirmation. “I should have killed him when I had a chance.”
“Wait,” I ask, turning back to meet his angry green gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I found him on top of you, Toby, with his goddamn dick out! When I saw what he was doing, I fucking lost my mind. Literally, I saw red. All I felt was rage, anger, violence.” Van holds his hands out and stares at them. “I choked the bastard with my hands. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to squeeze the life out of him.” He flexes his fingers and drops his hands to his sides.
Fear
, shock, and yes, I’m ashamed to admit, desire, flood my system at Van’s confession. “But you didn’t.”
His eyes lock with mine. “I would have. Cal stopped me.”
I should be repulsed by his admission of murderous thoughts, should demand he leave and never come back. But I can’t. No one has ever stood up for me like that. Not against Austin or for anything, to be honest. Van really would kill for me, and while I don’t want him to do that, the fact that he would says volumes.
“I love you,” I blurt out, unable to hold it in any longer.
Van’s eyes widen, and the anger over Austin leeches out of him. He rounds the bed and takes my face in his hands again. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.”
“Fuck.” He sobs and it turns into a laugh. “I love you too.”
This time, when he kisses me, it’s more than a peck on the lips. It’s a melding of souls, twining together as one while we express our love using lips and tongues. Van pulls back and smiles. He presses one last kiss on my forehead.
“They said you can go home today. I want you with me, Toby. I’ll take care of you.”
“But… your work….”
Van looks sad for a moment. “I can’t miss any games, but I’ll hire someone to sit with you when I’m gone. We’ll figure it out. Just, please, come with me so I can take care of you. I need to know you’re safe, baby.”
I nod, earning another wide grin.
“Perfect.”
As the doctor signs the discharge forms and explains my medications, Van listens intently to every single word, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face letting everyone know not to fuck with me. I want to laugh, but my side hurts too much.
And besides, his protectiveness is one of the things I love about him.
Love. I’m in love with Van Archer and he loves me.
And he outed himself to his team. That wipes the smile from my face and sends a chill down my spine. Will his career survive his confession?
