Chapter Five

Warner slowly breathed through the pain, wondering how he'd gotten himself stuck in this mess... again.

Right. I forgot to tell Marion to stop the emergency room people from calling my emergency contact.

After pulling up his records—Warner had been there within the last year, after all—he guessed it was their standard procedure. Warner had been meaning to change his emergency contact from his father to someone else. He'd just needed to figure out who that someone else should be.

Without someone to change it to, Warner had put it off. That meant, when he'd shown up at work that morning and Marion had seen the way he'd been moving, she'd been worried. Warner had tried to play off the pain in his shoulder and side as sleeping funny. When someone had bumped his hip, making him hiss, flinch, and spill a platter of dishes, that had flown right out the window. Especially when Marion had urged him to ease up his shirt, and she'd spotted the myriad of bruising forming on the back of his left ribcage and disappearing under the fabric... in each direction, up and down.

Marion had asked Warner what had happened, but even though he hadn't wanted to discuss it, she'd insisted on taking him to the emergency room herself.

Warner would've appreciated her concern if it hadn't ended up with his father standing beside his bed in the emergency room. After all, his father had been the one to smack him with his belt more than a few times. The second Warner had told his father that he didn't have any tip money to give him—he'd used all his cash at the restaurant with Geoff—his father had started in on how worthless he was.

The speed at which the man could strip off the piece of leather and slam it over his back and side would have been impressive... if he hadn't used the skill against Warner.

"You don't say shit." Walter growled the words softly, pinning Warner with his cold, brown-eyed gaze. "Or you'll get even worse when you get home."

It was on the tip of Warner's tongue to say that he never said anything... to anyone... when a man he vaguely recognized walked into the room.

"Hi, Mister O'Brian," he greeted, a tight smile on his features. "I'm Detective Canton." Moving toward the bed, the guy flickered his attention from Warner's father and back to Warner's face. "I'm here to take your statement about your mugging," he told him, confusing Warner. "Are you up to talking about it now?" He even pulled a paper pad and pen from within his jacket's pocket.

"No, Warner's not up to talking right now," Walter snapped with narrowed eyes. "Who the hell called the police?" He scowled at Warner. "Did you?"

"I'm sorry," Detective Canton cut in, peering at Walter with a narrow-eyed look. "You are, sir?"

" I'm Mister O'Brian," Walter claimed, crossing his arms over his chest. Sporting an imperious expression, he scowled down the several-inch height distance as he added, "This is my son, Warner. I'll let you know when or if he's available for comment."

"I was under the impression that there was no head injury involved in the attack, so Warner can speak for himself," Detective Canton countered, not appearing impressed by his father's posturing. He smiled at Warner and dipped his chin in an encouraging nod. "If you'd prefer, I can send your father out if you want to keep your statement private."

For an instant, Warner froze, feeling stuck in an awkward position.

"No, of course, he doesn't—"

As Walter once again butted in, Detective Canton gave Warner another almost imperceptible nod of encouragement... and it hit Warner where he'd seen the man before. He was one of the friends who'd visited the winery with Geoff's group just the day before. He'd been with a guy who was obviously a date or partner.

Is he really a detective?

Can he help me?

Glancing at the badge attached to Canton's waist, Warner thought it looked real enough.

"I'd like that," Warner cut into his father's demand that the detective leave. When Walter turned his angry expression on Warner, his face darkening even further in a way that spiked fear through Warner, he still managed to squeak fairly levelly, "I'd prefer alone."

"Of course, sir," Detective Canton replied with a nod before turning toward Walter. "If you could, please, step out—"

"Hell, no," Walter snarled, his lip curving into a sneer. "I'm not leaving." Fisting his hands and resting them on his hips, his father declared, "This is my son." Then Walter's eyes narrowed as he cut a derisive expression his way. His tone lowered with distaste as he grumbled, "Even if he is a faggot ass."

"I'm sorry, sir." The detective lifted his hands in placation. "That's got nothing to do with this." He waved his pen toward Warner. "My witness is an adult. He has his rights, and he's made his desire clear." Pointing toward the door, the detective added, "If you don't go willingly, I can have the hospital security escort you out."

A tick formed at the corner of Walter's left eye, and his nostrils flared. His jaw clenched, and he fisted his hands. He even opened and closed his mouth, twice.

Except, Detective Canton's expression didn't change, and he must have decided not to cause a scene. He stalked toward the door, flashing a look of warning at Warner. Walter even tried to slam the door behind him, but the detective was following, and he caught it and closed it softly.

Watching his father disappear, a wave of trepidation flooded Warner. A tremble shook him. Beads of sweat broke out on his flesh, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

Oh, shit. What did I just do?

"Easy, Warner," Detective Canton soothed, gripping his hands. "Take a few deep breaths for me, huh?" Moving one hand to the back of Warner's neck, he massaged rhythmically. "You'll be okay. You're safe now. He can't hurt you ever again."

Hearing those words, Warner sucked in a harsh gasp. The spots cleared, telling him that he had indeed been forgetting to breathe. Meeting the detective's brown eyes, he took in his understanding gaze.

"H-How—" Warner paused and swallowed hard before trying again. "H-How did you know?"

Giving him a small smile, Detective Canton softly stated, "In my line of work, I've seen a thing or two." He grimaced as he glanced toward the bandages peeking around the left side of his torso. "Including many cases of abuse." Shaking his head even as he forced a smile, the detective told him, "Geoff is here. He'd love to come comfort you if you'll let him."

"Why would he be here?" Thinking that was an odd offer, Warner blurted, "Are you really a detective?"

Canton barked a laugh, his smile turning genuine. "Yep, I really am." Releasing him, he straightened. "Just one of those things I mentioned about seein' a thing or two." He shrugged as he added, "With the connection between you two, I know his touch will help calm and soothe you. Whadda ya say?"

Warner wanted to nod acceptance so badly. Except, then another thought hit him. "Oh, shit. I have nowhere else to go." Fear surged through him anew. "What happens when I have to go home?"

"We won't let that happen," Detective Canton declared. After a squeeze to his forearm, he stated, "I'm getting Geoff. Trust us."

Considering he didn't have any other choices, Warner just nodded as he tried not to let trepidation cause a fresh wave of shivers to rush through his body.

After all, shivering hurt.

* * * *

When the older-looking man stalked into the waiting room, Geoff tracked the human's movements. Even while taller and broader, he could see the male's resemblance to Warner. While his eyes were brown and hair a tawny color, the cheekbones and bone structure were similar enough.

This man is my mate's father.

Geoff noticed the cruel glint in the man's dark eyes as he peered back in the direction of the rooms down the hall, as if he promised retribution. Considering the list of injuries he'd heard Warner had suffered—via eavesdropping on Grisham's conversation with a nurse—he could only imagine what the man was planning. Geoff lifted his hands and cracked his knuckles, wondering how he could get him into a supply closet, unused room, or bathroom so he could issue a little payback.

A large hand clamped onto Geoff's shoulder.

Snapping his attention to the left, Geoff peered into William's deep green eyes. "Whatever you're thinking about," the beta whispered harshly. "Knock it off." He narrowed his eyes as he hissed, "You can't help your mate from behind bars."

As much as it galled Geoff to stand by while the asshole who'd most likely hurt his mate—after all, his scent screamed malevolence—stood in the waiting room as if he had any say in what happened to Geoff's mate, he heeded his beta's warning.

William was right, after all.

I can't help my mate from behind bars.

Plus, being bailed out of jail more than once by Saul, their pod's attorney, would just be embarrassing.

Still, even that knowledge couldn't keep Geoff from curling his lip in disgust when Walter peered in his direction and met his gaze. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the man. The guy narrowed his eyes before sweeping his gaze over Geoff's massive frame and turning away.

With his lip curled, Walter began to pace, glancing toward the doors Grisham had disappeared behind ten minutes before.

Geoff was still battling with his desire to find a way to corner Walter when a man in nurse-style scrubs cracked the doors and called, "Geoff Ignatius?" He glanced around the waiting room, betraying that he didn't actually know who he was looking for.

"Here," Geoff rumbled, striding toward the stranger, wondering why he was being called.

The guy looked him up and down, and his eyes widened for a second. "You're Geoff Ignatius?"

"I am," Geoff confirmed.

" You're Warner's boyfriend?" The nurse shook his head, clearly disbelieving for he asked, "Can I see some ID, please?"

While Geoff didn't know what was going on, he wouldn't deny Warner. Instead, he pulled out his ID and held it out to the nurse. After the man looked it over, he nodded.

"Well, uh, come this way, please, Mister Ignatius." The nurse beckoned, holding the swinging door open to him. "Warner's asking for you."

"Wait a minute," Walter barked, grabbing the nurse's forearm where he held the door. "Are you talking about my Warner? Warner O'Brian?"

"Uh, I'm sorry, sir." The nurse looked between them, confused. "Who are you?"

"Walter O'Brian," the man declared, confirming Geoff's suspicions. "Warner's my son. No one sees him without my permission." Crossing his arms over his chest, Walter sneered at them both. " I'm his emergency contact. Nothing happens without my say-so."

The nurse looked confused even as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mister O'Brian, but that's only in a case when a patient is unable to make decisions on his own." He glanced between the pair as he began holding the door open once more. "With your son awake and coherent, he can choose who he sees."

"Then I should be there, too," Walter declared, starting to shove past them. "I'm his—"

"Yes, you're his father." William grabbed hold of Walter's opposite arm and tugged him backward. "So we've heard." His tone turned dry. "And, yet, you've been relegated here with us until Warner gets his bearings." It didn't take much for William to use his shifter strength, coupled with Walter's momentum, to send the big human into a waiting room chair. "Just sit and relax, man. I'm sure your son'll ask for you in no time."

Geoff was pretty sure he wasn't the only one that heard the sarcasm in William's tone.

With the way Walter glared daggers while his cheeks darkened to a red hue, Geoff knew he was right. He couldn't help casting a smirk back at the man as he followed the nurse through the doors. When the guy glanced back at him, Geoff quickly morphed the look into one of concern.

When Geoff entered Warner's room, he didn't need to feign that look at all. He sucked back a cry of anguish as he took in the paleness of his mate... not to mention the bandages that covered the left side of his slightly chubby torso. When Warner brought an arm up to cover his soft belly, Geoff snapped his attention up to his mate's face and spotted the embarrassed flush heating his pretty cheeks.

That'll never do.

"Oh, my sweetheart," Geoff crooned, rounding the bed so he was on the other side of where Grisham stood. Gently, he took hold of the wrist that was across his mate's belly and drew his arm away from there. "Never again, love," he vowed. "Never again." Disregarding the chair behind him, Geoff eased onto the bed beside his surprised-looking Warner. While threading their fingers together, he slid his other arm around his human's shoulders. He dipped his head, nuzzling behind his ear, as he cuddled him close. "I'll never let your father hurt you again, Warner."

Geoff barely kept his anger out of his voice. Instead, he did his best to instill his tone with a reassuring croon. Rubbing his lips against the soft skin behind Warner's ear, he used his lips to tease the sensitive skin there, enjoying the pleasant smell and scent that began to come from his mate.

"That's the way," Geoff whispered, liking those responses oh-so-much better. "You're okay."

"N-Not that I don't, uh, like that y-you're here." Warner peered up at him through his lashes, even as he continued to cuddle into his hold. "Why, um, why are you here?" His brows furrowed as confusion filled his scent. "How'd you even know I was here?" Then his gaze cut to Grisham. "How did either of you know I was here?" Shaking his head, Warner mumbled, "I didn't actually say anything about a mugging. Are you sure you're really a detective?"

Grisham chuckled low in his throat as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm a detective. You can even call my precinct to confirm if you want." He used a foot to hook the chair on his side of the bed and pulled it close. As he eased onto it, he grinned at him. "And as soon as we realized you were someone special to Goeff here"— he used a finger to point across the bed toward him—"then our mutual tech buddy started checking into you." Resting his forearms on his thighs, Grisham leveled a serious look at him. "Don't worry. That's normal for him." With his gaze roving over Warner's torso, Grisham told him, "And it's a damn good thing he did because we're here to help you." The detective's eyes narrowed as he let out an annoyed breath. "No way should anyone be treated the way you were, and if you give us a chance, we'll stop him."

"But I don't have anywhere to go," Warner whispered, looking between them uncertainly. Shaking his head, he sounded tired as he repeated, "I have nowhere to go."

Gently, Geoff cradled his mate's jaw and told him, "Yes, you do, sweetheart." Unable to help himself, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to Warner's. "Yes, you do."

"Where?"

Geoff held Warner's gaze as he murmured, "With me, Warner." When he saw his mate's eyes widen and his lips part, he couldn't help but dip his head and whisper, "With me," before taking those lips for his own.

When Warner's taste exploded across his taste buds, Geoff moaned with bliss.

Heaven.