2. Wyatt

Chapter Two

WYATT

After midnight, nothing good happened this deep in the bayou.I'd have gone after anyone speeding down this stretch of empty highway, but it was my bad luck that the speeder turned out to be Gage Beaufort.Now, he was sitting in my car, taking up more space than he should, breathing the same air as me.

I gripped the wheel in both hands and locked my eyes on the road, doing my damndest not to look at him.Five years and a dozen states between us, and I’d thought—hell, I’d hoped—that would be enough to dull his effect on me.No such luck. If anything, it was worse.

Gage had left this town a boy, but he’d come back all man.Not different, exactly. Just more.Grown, hard, and sexy as sin.The years hadn’t changed him; they’d only made him more of what he was always destined to be.

He sprawled in my passenger seat like he owned it, one arm slung around his middle, the other leg kicked up against the dash without a second thought.Scuff marks? Not even on his radar.Typical Gage. His jeans were so worn and thin they clung to his thighs like a second skin, and his grimy t-shirt stretched tight across a chest packed with muscle that hadn’t been there five years ago.The lanky, scrappy kid I remembered was long gone, replaced by someone sharper and harder, a man shaped by experiences I could only guess at.

I couldn’t look at him without feeling gut-punched.

He shifted, trying to get comfortable, fingers tapping out some restless rhythm on his thigh.My focus zeroed in on that hand: knuckles bruised and split, veins like a roadmap to nowhere good.My wrist still tingled where he'd grabbed me earlier.

Dispatch crackled over the radio, and I thumbed my shoulder mic to reply.“Traffic. En route to Baptist Memorial with two on board.”

Gage objected. “I don’t like Baptist Memorial.”

“I don’t remember asking,” I replied, staring at the highway so hard the canopy of trees blurred in my periphery.

“You still mad at me after all this time?” He sounded way too casual, like it was just a simple question with a simple answer.Nothing between us had ever been simple.

“I’m not mad,” I replied—and I wasn't.Mad didn’t begin to cover it.“Now talk. What happened out there?”

“I didn’t hurt her,” he said, instantly defensive.

I sighed. Of course, Gage hadn’t hurt her.He was wild and reckless, but he’d never hurt anyone who didn’t have it coming a dozen times over.The kid was tough as nails, yet undeniably good-hearted, even if he could never see that part of himself.

I still remembered the terrified little boy with the big gray eyes who clung to my neck as I carried him from the bayou.He was the smallest ten-year-old I’d ever seen, so thin and frail that his limbs were like toothpicks.I was a young cop barely out of the academy, still stunned by the depravity people could inflict on each other.Especially their own family. The hospital reports were horrific, and I’d felt such vicious satisfaction slapping cuffs on his father that it was almost a high.No one survived trauma like that unscathed. I’d spent years trying to convince Gage he could do better— be better—if only he believed in himself.But those words never stuck, and to my horror, as he grew up, he misread my interest as something more. Something immoral. I never meant to hurt him, but I knew that I had.

“I know you didn’t hurt her,” I said, keeping my voice even despite my razor-thin patience. “Just tell me what happened.”

He shrugged, but I could see his fingers clenching and unclenching in a tell he’d never outgrown.“Some guys were getting rough, so I stepped in.They caught me from behind and dumped us in a pit near the water.I don’t know why they didn’t finish us off.Chickenshit, I guess. I don’t know what happened to the girl once I was out cold, but I couldn’t find any obvious injuries besides the gash on her head.”

“Did you ever think to find a phone and call for help?”

He rolled his tongue over his teeth and thought it over for a hot second.“Nope.”

A snort escaped before I could stifle it, and he shot me a crooked smile.For a moment, it felt like old times.Then our eyes met, and whatever humor I felt evaporated.His eyes were still mesmerizing, an intense, unnervingly pale gray that were almost hypnotic if I stared too long.Heat crept up the back of my neck.I forced my attention to the road, but I could still feel the weight of his gaze.

He shifted, stretching like a cat, and then froze with a swift intake of breath.

“You okay?” I asked, harsher than I’d intended.

“I’m always okay,” he wheezed.

I let it slide for now and focused on the information I needed.“Where did this all go down?”

“The parking lot behind the Dead End.”

“Can you identify them?”

Gage tilted his head to the side and cracked his neck.“I can,” he said slowly, turning it over in his head, “but I probably won’t.Not for you, anyway.”

“Who, then?” I demanded, trying not to let my irritation show. “Gideon?”

His smile came slow and sly and damn near irresistible.“Gideon’s a priest. What do you think he can do about it?”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed.Everyone in Devil’s Garden knew the collar around Gideon Beaufort’s neck was more like a leash.It kept him in line for now, but one day it would probably snap.Being a priest was what Gideon did, but it wasn’t who he was.He was…something else entirely.Something that I didn’t like turning my back on.Him and Dominic both.

The whole family was trouble, but the biggest threat was sitting right beside me.The day Gage left, it felt like someone had taken a knife to my heart.The guilt I felt over how I'd treated him nearly ruined me.Now, he was back, and with one look, he'd shoved that blade deep and twisted it all over again.

I was bleeding like hell and pretending I was fine.

My obsession with him back then had been wrong—and it was still wrong.Gage wasn’t some troubled kid anymore, but I was still nine years older than him, and I’d always be the man who’d saved him from the hell he was born into.I’d die before I abused that power.I refused to sink that low, not even if he begged...and he had.

“Why’d you come back?” I hadn’t meant to ask, but there was no answer I wanted more.

Gage turned to look at me, but he didn’t answer right away.I could tell he was weighing his options.Finally, he muttered, “Just wanted to pay my respects."

It was a safe answer. I’d expected him sooner, but when he didn’t turn up for the funeral, I'd given up hope.“I’m sorry about Boone,” I said finally.“Devil’s Garden hasn’t been the same since he died.”

"Yeah," he said, so softly it sounded like he was talking to himself."Well, it wouldn't be, would it?"

When I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, he was staring out the window, but I caught the flex of his throat when he swallowed.That little hint of vulnerability nearly undid me.Gage was always so guarded that it knocked the wind out of me whenever I caught a crack in his armor.For one brief moment, I saw a glimpse of the vulnerable kid I used to know.Part of me wanted to reach out, pull him close, and tell him everything was okay.But I didn’t. I couldn’t. We weren’t those people anymore.Hell, we’d never been those people, no matter how much we might’ve wanted to be.

“Your brothers have kept Eden House running,” I said, clearing my throat.“They’ve got four kids in the foster program now.I put them there myself. That part of Boone's legacy is still going strong.”

He didn’t respond, just turned his face away and stared out the window.Baptist Memorial loomed ahead of us, squat and grimy beneath the harsh glow of a neon sign.Three squad cars were parked in the lot, but I passed them and pulled directly into the emergency bay.I couldn’t blame Gage for hating this place; it was stretched thin like every other service in Devil’s Garden: underfunded, overcrowded, and falling apart at the seams.

Before I’d even killed the engine, Gage was out of the car and moving toward a tech in bright blue scrubs.He was the one who settled the girl onto the gurney, trailing behind them as they wheeled her into a treatment room.

The emergency department was a mess of anxious faces and restless bodies.Gurneys lined the overflowing hallway, and the nurses’ station buzzed with barely contained chaos.Beside the front desk, an addict nodded off in a plastic chair, cuffed to the armrests and flanked by two bored-looking security officers.

I gave them a nod as I passed, but my focus was all Gage.Under the harsh fluorescent lights, his complexion was almost gray.His face was strained, and there was a strange hitch in his stride that I hadn't noticed earlier.He hesitated just outside the exam room, glanced at the room number, and then turned to make a break for the exit.

I cut my debrief with the charge nurse short and followed, catching up to him just as he busted through an empty stairwell.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded, catching him by the bicep and hauling him back a step.

Gage gasped and stiffened, curling one arm protectively around his torso.He tried to shrug me off, and I allowed it so I wouldn't hurt him more.Instead, I stepped in front of him, blocking his path with my body and forcing him to stop.

“I’m not finished with you,” I said, gruffer and angrier than I'd planned.“You need to get checked out.”

He scoffed, avoiding my eyes.“Nah. Those guys were kittens.I just need some sleep."

I'd never had much patience for games.Tucking a knuckle under his chin, I forced him to lift his head and look at me.Temper flickered in those gray eyes.We were standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.One step closer, and I’d have him backed against the wall.My groin tightened at the idea.

“You’re going to let a doctor examine you,” I said, slow and clear, enunciating every word, “or I’ll book you for stealing that truck, cuff you to the bed, and make sure you get treated.”

Gage jerked his chin out of my grasp and glared.“You’re bluffing.”

I let a smirk curl my lips. “Try me.”

He gave me a look that could peel paint, but the moment he twitched, I tightened my grip.He froze, muscles locked in a state of readiness, braced for a fight we both knew he couldn’t win.Now that I had him under the lights, I could see the damage he’d taken.He was scraped, bruised, and filthy.Exhaustion drooped his shoulders, and he looked like he was straining to take a full breath.He’d push back out of sheer stubbornness, but I wasn’t giving him a choice.Gage didn’t need my protection anymore, but hell if that stopped me from wanting to give it.

“You’re really gonna do this?” he growled.“After everything?”

I didn’t answer; I didn’t have to.The metallic snap of the cuffs opening spoke for me.

“Turn around,” I said quietly.

Gage stared at me incredulously.His eyes were flashing with anger—and something worse.Something that brought me back to the night he’d tried to seduce me, the night I’d shut him down harder than I ever intended.The night he stopped looking at me like his hero.

My throat felt dry, but I didn’t look away.

We stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then,slowly, almost mockingly, he turned.His movements were stiff and deliberate, like he was daring me to go through with it.I closed the cuffs around his wrists, mindful not to aggravate his injuries by pulling them tootight.His shoulders were practically vibrating withtension.He was furious, but he’d get overit.This wasn’t the worst thing between us, not by a longshot.

“I warned you,” I said, keeping my voicelow.“I don’tbluff.”

Satisfaction settled in my chest as I pressed a hand between his shoulder blades and propelled himforward.

I’d let him run away once. I wasn’t about to let it happenagain.