Penny turned, but the dividers obstructed her view. Hazel pulled her legs up, scooted carefully over Penny’s lap, and peered over the dividers. She gasped. “That’s Max. Dad says if I ever see him, I need to walk away like nothing happened.”
Violence snarled through Raph’s veins. “Good. Get back down and stay there.”
“But Dad—Uncle Raph, Dad will have a mood if he sees Max.”
Was this one of the moods Wyatt had stopped Hazel from talking about?
Max pushed the doors open, stepping in.
Raph’s heart pounded. He tucked his hands in his pockets and strolled toward the register, glancing between Wyatt and Max. He’d thought about it countless times before, what he’d do if he found Wyatt’s ex. Punch him, beat him up. Something equal to all the hurt Max had unleashed on Wyatt.
Raph slowed when he approached the register. Up close, Max looked like an ordinary alpha—average looks, clean shirt, fitting pants. Maybe five years older than Raph. Max should’ve known better than to abuse an eighteen-year-old.
Max looked around the diner. Caught sight of Wyatt, his lips twisting into a grin. “Ah,” he murmured, looking Wyatt over. “What a surprise.”
He had to have seen the bump of Wyatt’s belly behind his vest. Hot fury tore through Raph’s gut. Everyone else looking at Wyatt? That was fine. But this bastard? No. He deserved to have his eyeballs ripped out.
Raph pulled his hands from his pockets, so he could curl them into fists. Calm down. Don’t wreck the drive-in. Wy doesn’t need a lawsuit. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Wyatt turned away from his table, a smile on his lips.
His gaze caught on Max. And Wyatt froze, his smile growing brittle.
Raph wanted to go up to him, whisk him away from the diner. But what did Wyatt want? Did he have a plan for situations like this?
Wyatt’s eyes darted to the register, finding Raph. His chest heaved. His gaze held a hint of desperation.
Wyatt looked like he wanted to flee.
And Raph was striding toward him, the public be damned. Anyone could find out about their relationship. In that moment, Raph wouldn’t have cared. But if that bastard laid one finger on Wyatt, he was going to pay.
20
Wyatt
Wyatt couldn’t breathe. The sight of Max had sent a jolt of ice down his spine, and frozen all his limbs.
Why are you here now?
He’d been certain that Max had moved out of California. On Wyatt’s behalf, Sam checked Max’s Facebook profile regularly; Max’s statuses had been logged from Drakestown, Arizona, over the past seven years. It was the reason Wyatt had felt comfortable naming his diner after himself. Except Max was back in Meadowfall, and Wyatt wished he were somewhere across the world.
Nine years later, Max hadn’t changed much. There was gray in his hair, and wrinkles lined his skin. But his eyes were still cruel, and that smile—Wyatt’s stomach wrenched; his body still anticipated the blows that would hurt for days.
Max had seen him, like a predator sighting prey. His mouth pulled into a satisfied smile.
You know how worthless you are, Max had said once. Or should I remind you?
Nine years ago, Wyatt had bowed his head, thinking he needed punishment for trying to seduce Raph. And Max had whipped him, had yanked on his hair, slapped him until his face was swollen. Wyatt had cried, wishing it would stop, yet knowing he needed to suffer for how twisted he’d been.
Looking at Max now, in his diner, Wyatt couldn’t help the terrible dread that flooded through his veins, the urge to hide his face and cry. He’d glimpsed Max once, when he’d taken Hazel east on a road trip, and stopped by a grocery store. Wyatt had pulled Hazel into an aisle, shaking, pretending to dig through the clearance rack so no one would see the tears on his face.
Raph is here, his mind whispered. You will be okay.
But he couldn’t help the fear, the little bubble of panic that threatened to explode in his chest. Wyatt looked at Raph instead, trying to keep his smile on, trying to hold himself together so he could get that food order in, and retreat somewhere safe.
Two sets of Shoyu Ramen, one without onions. One set of Seafood Stir-fried Noodles, no vegetables. Two sides of eggs. What did I forget? There was something else. Damn it!
Wyatt slipped his hand over his belly, needing to protect his baby. Max had seen that, too. Max knew he was pregnant. And that made Wyatt want to cringe, take a hot shower. Wash that dirty stare off his skin. Max didn’t need to know the slightest thing about him.
Raph strode to his side, tall, broad, strong. “Breathe,” he murmured, sliding his arm around Wyatt’s waist. His body was wound tight, too, coiled with tension. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know,” Wyatt mumbled. There was no way out of this dining segment, except to go forward, where Max waited by the front door. Wyatt had no reason to kick him out. He dreaded even speaking to Max.
“I’ll send him away,” Raph said. “Be back soon.” He squeezed Wyatt’s waist, and left him in the aisle.
Wyatt tried to follow; he really did. He managed all of three steps, before he shook so hard that he had to stop.
You’re a sick little omega, soaking up punishment like that, Max had whispered years ago. Hard when I slap you.
Wyatt’s face burned. He looked at the smooth floorboards, wishing he had the strength to move forward, to stride past Max like nothing could break him.
Four yards away, Raph said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave, sir.”
“Who are you?” Max asked, his voice commanding. Wyatt remembered that about him, too. He wished he didn’t.
“The manager of Wy’s Drive-In,” Raph said.
Max narrowed his eyes, glancing at Raph’s chest, where a badge should be. “You don’t seem to be. Where is the real manager?”
He glanced at Wyatt, and Raph growled, stepping between them. “We reserve the right to refuse service.” Raph extended his hand toward the door. “Please.”
At the back of his mind, Wyatt remembered a younger Raph, who would’ve punched the people he didn’t like, and apologize later. Raph had grown and matured for the better. But Wyatt? He was still a coward, still broken.
Max stepped around Raph, jerking his chin at Wyatt. “He’s my omega.”
“He isn’t anymore.” Raph moved to shield Wyatt again, jaw clenched.
“Is he yours, then?”
And the voices carried to the few patrons who had looked over, watching their exchange. Wyatt closed his eyes, wishing he could hide his face. Raph shouldn’t be there. Especially when the news could spread, and Raph could lose his job.
Raph didn’t answer Max. And maybe that silence was far too incriminating.
“He has a sick little soul,” Max said, eyes glittering, lips curling into a smirk. “Let’s hope that baby doesn’t turn out the same.”
Raph’s knuckles whitened. He looked as though he might murder Max right there; Wyatt wouldn’t have minded. It would land them both in jail, though, and there wouldn’t be anyone to care for Hazel.
He breathed in deep, trying to shove all his thoughts away. When Wyatt cracked his eyes open, Max threw him a smirk, turned, and stepped out of the restaurant.
It was only when Max had gotten into his car and driven off, that Raph turned away from the front door. Wyatt sucked in a breath, his hands trembling.
Raph returned to his side. “You okay?”
“I will be.” Wyatt cleared his throat. “I just—just have to get this order in.”
Except he could only remember half the order now, and the details were slipping through his fingers like water. What kind of boss was he? He couldn’t even get an order right.
Raph set his hand on the small of Wyatt’s back, guiding him to the order screen. The colorful buttons swam in his vision. He couldn’t remember the order at all, now. All he could remember was Max’s smirk. “I can’t do it.”
“That’s fine,” Raph said. “Which table was it? I’ll get Mina
to take the order again.”
Wyatt groaned. “24. They won’t be happy if you do that. We’re supposed to be providing good service, Raph.”
“Better than fucking up their food.” Raph steered him away from the screen, and Wyatt followed bonelessly, his heart pounding too hard. He needed to get away from here. Scrub off Max’s oily stare. Burrow himself in Raph’s chest and not think at all.
He needed to cry, let his tears wash everything else away.
He pasted on a smile when Hazel’s booth came into sight. She was peering past the side of the seat, half-hiding. Penny was on the other side of the booth, leaning forward with a frown.
Wyatt sagged. Meeting Max had sapped the last of his energy; he didn’t have the strength to explain anything to them.
“You need to go home, Dad,” Hazel said, her brow crinkling with worry. “I can go with you.”
His heart kicked. Would Raph or Penny judge him because Hazel knew? Children weren’t supposed to be exposed to their parents’ breakdowns.
But Raph shook his head. “I’ll take him home. Pen, can you send Hazel home tonight? In about an hour.”
“Sure,” Penny said, frowning. “What happened?”
Wyatt shook his head, so Hazel explained, “Dad had a mood.”
Raph left him at the booth to search out Mina. Wyatt leaned his hip against the table, his throat tight. He didn’t want to think any more about Max. But seeing his ex had reminded him of all the reasons he’d stayed through that abuse—the guilt, and the disgust at himself. He’d tried to seduce his stepbrother.
Tonight, he’d failed to get that order right. He couldn’t face Max, or even move. Raph had to do it for him. And Wyatt was painfully aware of his shortcomings, and Grandma’s snide whispers. Bad children like you are punished. You’ll only be good if you hurt.
“Will you be okay?” Hazel asked, the corners of her lips turning down.
“I will,” Wyatt said, smoothing her hair back. His hands still shook a little. “Aunt Penny will take care of you. I have to go home first tonight, okay? Remember to sleep early.”
“What about you?” Hazel looked around. “Where’s Uncle Raph?”
“Here,” Raph said, stopping behind Wyatt in a faint rush of teak. “See you in the morning, princess.”
They left through the back door, Wyatt swallowing his guilt at leaving his daughter behind. “I’ve never been home earlier than Hazel.”
“You need to rest,” Raph said, sliding his arm around Wyatt’s waist. “I thought you were going to break down back there.”
Wyatt gulped. “I almost did.”
Out in the parking lot, where there were no eyes on him, he could breathe again. Raph pulled him into the shadows behind the building, and held him close. For long moments, Wyatt closed his eyes, and breathed. When he had enough strength to lean away, Raph led him to the car.
“She’s seen that, hasn’t she? Hazel?”
Wyatt grimaced. Which parent would let their child witness a meltdown? Which father had his daughter hold his hand while he cried? “Yeah, she has.”
He ducked his head, certain that Raph would judge him for it. But Raph opened the passenger door, nudging Wyatt inside. Wyatt climbed in gingerly. He felt like he didn’t belong anywhere at all.
Raph leaned into the car, pressing a warm, soft kiss to his lips. “Both of you are so damn strong. I’m proud of you.”
Wyatt’s throat tightened. And Raph kissed him again, his palm caressing Wyatt’s belly. Their baby.
“More later,” Raph whispered against his lips. “Let’s get you home first.”
They pulled out of the parking lot, Wyatt’s hand clasped snugly in Raph’s. It was rare, the two of them alone in Raph’s car, the hum of the engine washing around them. The streetlamps cast moving shadows across their laps. Outside, other cars passed them by, their rumbles muffled. Raph held Wyatt’s hand, his expression soft.
So Wyatt asked, “Will you slap me tonight?”
The car swerved slightly. “What?”
Wyatt blushed. He’d been thinking about it, ever since the first time he’d asked Raph that question. Maybe Max was right, and he really did have a twisted soul. But he needed the rush of shame, needed the catharsis that crying brought him. “Is it terrible of me to ask for that?”
Raph was silent for a while. “I don’t understand why you want to be hit. That bastard hurt you, Wy. You want more?”
“Maybe.” Wyatt fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt. “I... I liked being hit.”
“Why the hell would you like it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Wyatt’s cheeks burned. He looked down, Grandma’s face swimming into his vision. Bad children should be punished. You like punishment, Wyatt? “I’ve been terrible.”
Raph slanted him a look. At a stoplight, he caught Wyatt’s chin, turning his face up. “You’re serious about this.”
Wyatt nodded. “That’s what he.... he meant by ‘twisted soul’. I thought you should know.”
“I don’t need to know things you aren’t comfortable with sharing,” Raph muttered. He leaned in, pressed a soft, wet kiss to Wyatt’s lips, and Wyatt groaned.
The car behind them honked.
Raph pulled away, stepping on the gas again. “Can we do this without hurting you?”
“I need to be hurt, Raph. That’s the point.”
“I don’t want to.”
Wyatt sighed. “I stayed so long with Max for a reason, Raph. I wanted to be hurt.”
Raph glared. “Why?”
“Because—” Wyatt swallowed “—because I shouldn’t have seduced you. You’re my stepbrother.”
“You’re my omega now,” Raph said. “You’re carrying my baby. I don’t care if people think it’s wrong.”
“I still care.” Wyatt leaned back into the headrest. The trees and storefronts flew by outside the car. Next to him, Raph’s eyes were dubious. But he didn’t judge Wyatt for his inclinations, and that was a relief. “Pain... pain absolves me of the wrongness. Can we try it? Just once?”
Raph flicked on the turn signal, before pulling them into Wyatt’s apartment complex. He didn’t look convinced. Wyatt squirmed in his seat, his cheeks prickling.
“I trust you to stop when I ask you to,” he added in a small voice. “Max didn’t.”
Raph slammed on the brakes. The car jolted, and they jerked back into their seats. Raph glared, baring his teeth. “Fuck that bastard.”
“I know.” Wyatt brought Raph’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “I trust you to hurt me. You’re the only one who can.”
Raph sucked in a shaky breath, and the car began to move again. He turned them into a parking lot, cut the engine. Then he breathed out, long and slow, his gaze locked with Wyatt’s.
“Fine. We’ll try it, just this once.”
Wyatt’s twisted heart gave a quick, excited beat.
21
Raph
Raph had no idea what the hell he’d just agreed to. Hurting people wasn’t his thing. Hurting Wyatt? That was insane. But Wyatt had asked, trusting Raph, and hell, Raph couldn’t say no to those eyes.
So here Wyatt was, stripped down in front of him, his skin pale in the golden lamplight of the bedroom. Raph stroked the planes of his chest, the very-visible bump of his belly.
“You’re sure about this,” Raph said, staring down at the spread of Wyatt’s legs, his creamy thighs, his balls relaxed against his taint.
“Which part of this says I’m not sure?” Wyatt lifted his hips, half-hard. Raph leaned in, pressed his nose to Wyatt’s soft balls, breathing in his musk, mingled with magnolia and honey.
He was going to hurt Wyatt. What kind of alpha did that willingly?
“How do I know when to stop?” Raph asked. He pressed a kiss to the silky skin of Wyatt’s cock, then down the crease of his thigh, supporting his ass with one hand.
Wyatt squirmed. “If—if I start to push you away. Or if I say ‘Enough.’ Then it means I don’t want mor
e.”
“Okay.” But it still didn’t sound right. Raph looked down at his own clothes, unbuttoning his shirt. It felt like he had too many clothes on, next to Wyatt. But Wyatt had asked for this, too. “How... how do I start?”
“Come closer.” Wyatt reached out for him.
Raph shuffled, so his thighs pressed against the curve of Wyatt’s ass. He glanced at the door again—it was locked. No interruptions tonight.
So he leaned over Wyatt, kissed him slowly on the lips. Wyatt parted for him with a sigh, his damp tongue tracing along Raph’s lower lip. “Tell me I’m a slut,” Wyatt whispered. “Say it like you mean it.”
Raph froze. And Wyatt looked back at him, his gaze solemn, almost hesitant. “This—” Raph swallowed, his stomach turning. “This is what you did with that bastard? He shamed you?”
A ruddy flush washed over Wyatt’s face. He looked away, his neck red, his chest red. “You don’t... don’t have to say the exact same things,” Wyatt mumbled. “And you don’t have to hit me very hard.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Make me believe you hate me.”
Raph’s stomach dropped. How could he do this to his omega? To someone he loved?
Wyatt chanced a look back at him, biting his lip. “We’ll try it for ten minutes. Please, Raph?”
The thoughts swirled in his mind, conflicting. Wyatt wanted to be hurt. Raph had agreed to it. But by making him believe it was real... “You’ll know that I still love you, right? Regardless of what I say?”
Wyatt nodded, his throat working. “I think so.”
He didn’t seem fully confident. Which meant Raph needed to make him feel safe after this, make him feel loved. Raph could do that. “All right,” he said. “Ten minutes.”
Wyatt’s eyelids fluttered shut. He relaxed into the bed, his lips catching between his teeth. “You could tell me how little I’m worth. Or you could slap me.”
Raph swallowed. Wyatt wasn’t worth nothing. But Raph had agreed to play along. Slowly, he said, “You’re a slut.”
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