I shine the light over the lump, trying to get a better sense of what I’m walking toward, putting the spiky side of the rake between me and the creature. I scan the canvas tarp until I reach the far end.
Fuck. The light lands on Frank’s face, locks of red hair standing out in the darkness.
Is he dead? A lump swells in my throat until I see his chest rise a few times.
I hurry over and kneel next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Frank jerks awake, sitting up straight and pulling away. “Shit!”
“Hey, it’s me.”Idiot, he can’t see you in the dark.“Matthias.”
He squints, and I move my flashlight down so it’s not right in his eyes. “Are you okay?” A list of possible reasons he might be here runs through my head. Fucking Sam shouldn’t let him work alone. What if he gets hurt? What if I hadn’t checked the yard before going to bed? I shudder at the thought of coming out in the morning and finding him frozen to death.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” He starts to jump up, but I put a hand on him, forcing him to stay where he is.
“Slow down. Are you hurt?” In the darkness, I can’t tell if there’s blood.
“No. Fuck. I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Asleep? Against a fence? In this cold weather? I’m not buying it.
“Let’s get you up and inside. Do you think you can walk?” I move the tarp and get my hands under his arm to help him up.
“No, I’ll just go home. My car’s out front.” There’s no way I’m letting him walk out to his car and leave. After only a few minutes outside, I’m freezing, and the only thing keeping me from shivering is the adrenaline running through my system. He’s at least proving he doesn’t need medical care before I let him drive.
“Let’s get you up,” I growl. Frank looks surprised but doesn’t argue with me. It takes a couple of minutes to get him up and steady on his feet. He’s moving awkwardly, but I think it’s only because of the cold. I keep an arm on him to help him to the back door, refusing to let go. I don’t see anything that suggests an injury, but it’s too early to be certain.
When I pull open the back door, Frank stops and looks at me for a moment. Nope, not having it. He’s coming inside and letting me fuss over him until I’m satisfied that he’s okay. I loop my arm through his elbow and drag him in.
“Stay here a minute.” I leave him standing on the back rug as I jog down the hall to the linen closet. There are several fluffy blankets—gifts from Tyler—that will be perfect for warming him up. I grab the three biggest ones and hurry back to him.
When I return, he hasn’t moved. At all. Instead, he sways a bit and stares at the floor. His skin looks a bit pale, if anything.
“Here, let’s move you to the couch, and we can get you wrapped up in some blankets. Then I’ll get you somehot tea.”
I grab his hand, but he stubbornly refuses to follow me. For someone who could barely walk a second ago, he’s surprisingly strong.
“I’ll get things dirty. I’m a mess.”
Are you fucking kidding me? “Everything washes,” I assure him. Even if it didn’t, it’s only stuff. Not nearly as important as taking care of him. When I tug on his hand again, he resists for a second before giving in. Before he sits, I throw one of the blankets down on the oversized couch. Not to protect it but because I want to be able to wrap him up properly.
I nudge him gently, and he sits without further complaint. I busy myself covering him in blankets, folding them around him to envelope every inch. Each time my hand grazes his skin, I’m shocked all over again by how cold he is. It might have been mild earlier, but we’re on our way to a cold snap, and the temperature’s dropped to below freezing in the last hour. I push all the thoughts from my brain about what might have happened to him if I hadn’t been an anal bastard who needs to check the progress daily. By the time I’m done, only his face peeks out from the cocoon.
Perfect.
“Stay here. I’m going to get some hot tea for you.”
Frank doesn’t say anything, which I take as approval of my plan. In the kitchen, I start the water kettle and rifle through the cabinets for the tea. What the hell possessed him to fall asleep against the fence? When did it even happen that no one noticed at the end of the day? I consider calling Sam but decide against it. I don’t want him to get in trouble. At least not before I know what happened. It’s not easy to fall asleep in such an environment. What if he hit his head or something? I pull up a browser on my phoneand check the signs of a concussion. Then I check signs of hypothermia. I’m not sure which one worries me more at this point.
I’ll check his head for any lumps and make sure his eyes are focused. Maybe check on him throughout the night.
Throughout the night?My brain thinks he’s staying here even though he’s made it very clear he wants to go home.
Yeah, that doesn’t sit right with me. There’s no way that boy’s driving away from here tonight. I don’t know his home situation, but he needs care and attention. He’s not leaving here unless I’m sure he’s going to get it from someone else.
The kettle whistles, and I pour the boiling water into the oversized mug I’d prepared with a chamomile tea bag. This way, he’ll have something warm and relaxing with no caffeine. If his story is true, it’s obvious he needs sleep.
When I return to the living room, Frank’s sitting perfectly still on the couch. Honestly, with the way I bundled him up, I doubt it’s possible for him to move other than maybe falling to one side.
“Here you go. It’s hot, but that’ll help regulate your temperature. Drink it slowly.” At least that’s what Dr. Google told me.
