Chapter Nine

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kijani asked as he stepped through Slater's front door. "I get it, man. It's eating you up inside that you weren't there, but do you really want to torture yourself?"

Slater glanced toward the ceiling. Alex was upstairs resting. His mate's injuries would heal a lot faster since they'd bonded, but the guilt still ate away at him for not being there to stop the attack.

He'd actually been on his way to the gas station to check on Alex but was rerouted to the other side of town for a disturbance call. Slater had pulled up on two drunken humans shouting at each other in the middle of the street.

Had it been over something important? Fuck no. The assholes had been fighting over their favorite football teams and it had taken over an hour to calm them down and send them home.

No sooner had Slater slipped back into his cruiser than he'd gotten the call about the panic button being triggered at Bigman Gas Station. But Slater couldn't get there any faster because of those drunken idiots, and the other deputies on duty had been tied up with their own calls.

He couldn't get the sight of Alex's bruised face out of his mind. His mate's forearms were also battered, evidence of him trying to defend himself against his attacker.

If only Slater had been there to protect him.

Fucking Mike.

Slater hadn't wanted to let his mate out of his bed after they'd bonded. It hadn't set well with him that Alex would be alone and vulnerable in that store, that anyone could walk in and hurt his mate.

Which is exactly what happened.

But, was Slater truly prepared to witness Alex being attacked? Did he want to helplessly watch the moments when his mate was in pain and unable to defend himself?

Why should Alex have to carry the weight of those memories alone? If Slater knew what his mate had endured, he could provide support and understanding.

"Give me the thumb drive."

"I would do the same thing for Jonah." Kijani handed it over.

Kijani's own mate had been assaulted, but there hadn't been video evidence since it happened in his home. Slater had arrived at Jonah's house with Kijani and had killed the guy who'd attacked him.

Slater couldn't get that satisfaction.

They entered the kitchen where his laptop sat open on the table. Slater closed the curtain to block out the bright morning sun so there wouldn't be a glare on the screen, then sat down.

Kijani stood behind him as he inserted the thumb drive, his fingers trembling as he clicked play.

The video showed his mate by the Slushy machine, completely unaware Mike had just walked in. Slater wanted to shout, to tell Alex to hide, to get away instead of unknowingly walking right into his path.

Anguish and rage warred within him as he watched the attack in sickening horror, watched the vicious blows Mike delivered to Alex's defenseless body.

Every fiber of Slater's being yearned to reach through the screen and rip Mike's fucking heart out. He had never felt such intense hatred toward anyone more than he did this human piece of shit.

His tiger roared and clawed inside of him, desperate to break free and protect their mate. To hunt down Mike and tear him apart until there was nothing left but scraps of flesh and bone.

"That was one hell of a swing," Kijani commented when they watched Alex knock Mike in the head with the windshield washer fluid. Slater didn't give a shit who thought he was wrong, but he felt pure satisfaction when Mike's head went through the glass.

When the footage ended, Slater could barely breathe as he brushed away the tears clinging to his eyes.

"I feel the same way." Kijani squeezed his shoulder. "Hurt like fuck to watch that."

Shoving from the table, Slater walked out his back door and stood in the middle of his yard, head tilted upward as he tried to calm the boiling rage inside of him. If he didn't, he would go to the hospital and kill Mike.

For Alex, Slater would become a cold-blooded murderer. That had been the most brutal thing he'd ever had to watch. He'd had to see his sweet, caring, and klutzy mate get…

If Slater ever saw Mike again, he would end him.

* * * *

Tilting his head at every angle, Alex carefully examined his reflection in the mirror. He was both shocked and relieved to see his face wasn't as badly damaged as he'd feared. Despite the heavy blows he'd received, there were surprisingly few visible bruises and cuts. The ones he did have were already starting to fade, giving them the appearance of being a week old instead of just six hours.

Even the split on his lip was rapidly healing and with minimal scarring. Not that Alex wanted to be reminded of what happened, but it was still strange.

He then turned his attention to his forearms, expecting to see more bruises from trying to defend himself, but was surprised to find they were also quickly fading.

This was not how bruises were supposed to heal. It was as if his body was trying to erase any evidence of the brutal attack.

The lingering wounds on Alex's face and body were like battle scars, a testament to the intense pain and chaos that had erupted just hours before.

But when Alex met his own eyes in the mirror, the only thing he saw was Mike staring back at him with pure hate.

Alex turned and walked out of the bathroom. The house was quiet as he headed down the steps. The curtains were drawn tight in the living room, blocking out the sun. The hole was still in the wall, and there were two cups on the coffee table.

Slater must have company over.

When Alex entered the kitchen, his gaze landed on Slater standing in the backyard. His mate had his head tilted toward the sky, an expression of raw pain etched onto his features. Alex had never seen someone look so forlorn.

Slater blamed himself for what happened. It wasn't his fault. It was no one's except Mike's. Clearly, the man had deeper issues based on the rage he'd unleashed on Alex.

And despite what Mike had said about losing his trust fund, Alex didn't care. Maybe this would be a wake-up call for him to stop being such an asshole.

Slater's uniform was rumpled, as if he had slept in it, but Alex doubted his mate had gotten any rest. He seemed too consumed with taking on someone else's blame.

"Shit!" Alex was startled when he saw movement. "I'm starting to think Slater's kitchen doubles as a jump-scare room."

Goddamn. His heart wouldn't slow at the sight of Kijani leaning against the counter. The guy hadn't made a single peep. "For someone as big as you are, how in the hell do you have the ability to blend into the background like that?"

"A talent I've been working on. I guess I've finally nailed it." His smile was soft, his brown eyes warm. "How're you feeling?"

"Although I really do appreciate the concern, I've been asked that question so many times in the past few days that I'm starting to feel that there's something actually wrong with me."

His smile widened a little.

Alex pointed at Kijani and circled his finger. "You should wear that expression more often. It's a lot friendlier than the look you give that says you're searching someone's soul."

"It's my resting detective face."

"From someone who's been a target of that expression, you have it down pat. I felt like my soul was being sucked out when you looked at me like that." Alex glanced toward the door. "How long has he been out there?"

"About an hour."

"Is there anything I need to know before I go out there?" When Slater had brought Alex here to heal, he hadn't looked that lost. Did something happened while Alex slept? He didn't think he could take any more catastrophes.

"Slater bragged about how observant you are," Kijani said.

"He bragged about me?" Alex couldn't believe it. His mate was talking about him to others?

Kijani chuckled. Alex liked that sound even better than his "resting detective face."

"You're his mate. Of course he does." Kijani waved his fingers playfully in front of his own face. "He gets this shiny, goofy look in his eyes."

Aw. "Do I need to know anything?" Alex was already heading for the door. He wanted that shiny, goofy look back in Slater's eyes, although he had never noticed it before. He wanted to notice it now.

"Slater saw the footage of the attack."

Alex stopped dead in his tracks. God no! He didn't want anyone to see what Mike had done to him, especially Slater. No wonder he looked so torn up. He'd watched Mike unleash his insanity on Alex.

He couldn't bear the thought of his mate seeing him in such a vulnerable and humiliating state.

"Why?" Alex spun to face him. "Why would he watch that? I was already humiliated enough!"

Kijani had his resting face on, studying him, but Alex didn't give a shit.

The back door slammed open. Slater looked between them.

"He knows you watched it," Kijani said calmly.

"You!" Alex pointed an accusing finger at Kijani, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why are you even here? You attacked Slater! You shouldn't be allowed anywhere near this house!"

The weight of everything crashed down on him, and suddenly, Alex couldn't breathe. He pressed a hand over the tightness in his chest, uncaring that they were staring at him.

"I'm sorry," Slater said quietly. "I only watched it because—"

"You wanted to know what happened to me," Alex whispered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"You don't deserve that pain. Mike had no right to blame you for that night," Slater said, swallowing roughly. "We're mates. If you have to live with those memories, then so do I."

Kijani tried to slip by quietly by, but Alex rested a hand on his arm and looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

"Never an issue in the first place." He gave Alex a warm smile before he slipped from the room, and a moment later, Alex heard the front door close.

He stared at the floor. Slater was his mate. He only wanted to care for and protect him. Seeing that footage had nothing to do with Alex's embarrassment. It had become Slater's own personal hell.

He couldn't understand why Slater was taking responsibility for something that wasn't his fault. "It wasn't my fault... So why do I feel so humiliated? You couldn't have known Mike was going to show up. You had to work. Why are you shouldering the blame?"

"It's my job to protect you," Slater gritted out, but his anger wasn't aimed at Alex. It was aimed at himself.

"We can't move past this if you won't forgive yourself, Slater."

His mate had yet to call him hummingbird. Did he think he'd lost that right? Alex looked at him, and there was so much pain, so much guilt in his eyes.

"I want to go back to throwing papers in your face, my deadly knees, coffee, innuendos, the raccoon you blame me for scaring. Cleaning the house, cooking, our playful banter, everything, but not this," Alex said, his voice catching. "Not this, Slater!"

His mate enveloped Alex in a strong embrace. He cried as he held on to Slater so tightly it hurt. "Don't let that son of a bitch have any power over us."

Slater's shoulders shook as he held Alex. "I'm so sorry," he choked out.

"I nailed his ass good, though," he said through tears, rubbing Slater's back and resting his head on his shoulder. "Did you see that part?"

"Yeah," His mate replied against Alex's neck. "I guess you finally found your balance and coordination, hummingbird."

"I learned from the best." Alex grinned through his tears, squeezing his mate even tighter.