4. Dylan

DYLAN

I wanted to die. Not because I was scared, but because I was humiliated.

When the bad guy started shouting and waving a gun around, I panicked. And somewhere along the way, I wet myself.

I hadn't done that before, but flashbacks of the night in that club and what happened to Augie made me feel so helpless. I wouldn't have even moved at all if not for the guy who tucked me into a squat and shoved me back toward the refrigerator section… And right into the arms of another big man.

They were both gentle, despite being distracted, but in those moments when I thought we were all gonna die, I just closed my eyes, crouched down into a ball and…forgot to be a grown-up.

Now I was stuck.

I could hear that they got the gun away from the man and mentioned something about it not even being loaded—maybe not even a real gun—but I stayed in the far corner, hoping I could wait them out and sneak out after everybody left.

I curled up in a tight ball behind the bags of barbecue briquettes and buried my face in my arms, hoping that if I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me.

I sensed someone approaching before I felt a hand land on my shoulder, but I still didn't look up.

"Hey there. Are you okay?"

Taking a big breath for courage, I nodded and peeked out from beneath my folded arms. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a minute."

Kneeling beside me was the man who had been in the back with me. The one who tucked me into this corner to begin with. "No worries. My name is Cayson, and I'll wait right here until you're ready to get up."

"No, that's okay." I shook my head vigorously, terrified he would see what I had done. "I, um. You go ahead up front, and I'll be there in a minute."

He furrowed his brow and sat back on his heels, taking a full look at me. When his gaze landed near my lap, I could see the pieces falling into place in his mind. "Yeah, okay. I'll wait right over there." He pointed to the other end of the aisle as he stood up. Then he pulled off his sweatshirt and handed it to me. "In case you need this."

And that was it.

I took the sweatshirt without another word and watched as he turned his back and walked to the end of the aisle. He didn't leave, but he kept his back turned, giving me the privacy he clearly knew I needed.

The shame I felt was overwhelming, but I was so grateful for having something to make it a little less obvious. To help with the mess I made, I tore open a small bag of briquettes and poured them over my puddle, feeling only slightly guilty for wasting the bag, but also satisfied that it looked like the bag of charcoal had been accidentally opened and not being used to hide a puddle of piss.

When I stood up, I considered putting on the hoodie, but I wasn't sure if it was long enough to hide everything, so I wrapped it around my waist, making sure my backside was fully covered and the arm straps covered the front that had the darkest wet spots.

A minute later, the other man, the one who was slightly smaller but still exactly the kind of bear who starred in most of my fantasies, was back at my side. He had picked up the items I'd dropped along the way—my Pop-Tarts, cookie dough, and some candy that looked good a few minutes ago.

Now, nothing was appetizing. I just wanted to go home.

"You guys okay?"

I nodded and wrapped my arms around my chest. "Can I go home now?"

"In just a few minutes. My name is Finn, and I'm a sergeant with the sheriff's department. My guys are here and just need a quick statement from you both, and then you can go." He looked at me with kind eyes. "What's your name?"

"Dylan Oden," I said quietly. "You're a cop?

"I am." The man smiled and glanced at the other guy. The tall one. He held out his hand to shake it. "Finnegan Opatrny."

"Cayson Rossi. Thanks for stepping in there."

The cop, Finn, just shrugged it off. "He was an amateur. The gun wasn't even loaded." He glanced over at me. "Just some tweaker looking for his next high. He was harmless. I'm just glad no one got hurt."

I looked him up and down and appreciated once again how attractive he was. "But you didn't get hurt?"

"That dude couldn't hurt a fly." He scoffed at the suggestion, obviously too tough to get hurt. "If you two can wait here, I'll send my guys back here to talk to you."

Cayson looked down at me and placed a hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb over it in a way that made me wanna lean further into him. "You okay to talk, Dylan?"

I nodded and blew out a breath. "Yeah, let's just get this over with."

Finn held up the snacks he still had loaded in one arm. "I'll get these in a bag, and you can pick them up on your way out."

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry anymore." I swallowed hard and held myself even tighter. "I just want to get home."

"Of course." The two men shared a look that I didn't really understand, so I let my gaze drop to the exposed holster at Finn's side.

He really was a cop with a gun and everything. Now my hot Daddy fantasy just went to a whole ‘nother level.

"Is there someone you can call?"

"Hmm?" I turned to Cayson, hoping he didn't notice my attention had moved to his feet. They were big. Everything about him was big. I'd never been near biceps that looked bigger than my head, but the prime man meat in the minimart almost made my renewed trauma worth it. Almost.

"Can we call someone to get you, so you're not alone tonight?"

I bit my lip to keep it from quivering and felt my eyes welling up, not because I was alone, that was old news. But the adrenaline was just starting to wear off, and my emotions felt heightened to the point that I knew I'd have a serious breakdown as soon as I got home. At least, I hoped I'd be able to hold it off that long. "No, I'm fine."

"Dylan." His voice was low and measured and went right through me.

My eyes instantly locked with his, ready to follow him off a cliff if he asked me to.

"I don't think you should be alone tonight. Maybe a friend or family member can stay with you for a while?"

I could have called Max or Brayden, but I didn't want to ruin their night. Nothing had really happened anyway. I just shook my head, losing the battle with the tears that were pooling on my lids. When the first drop fell, I pressed the heels of my palms into my eye sockets, trying my best to shove those tears right back into my dumb sinuses, so I didn't look like a baby in front of the hot men who were just trying to grab a beer and start their weekend.