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“I’m fine,” was the weak protest, the words barely a whisper, the stranger’s skin deathly pale. They’d barely made it up to the top of the ditch when he began throwing up again but since there was nothing left in his stomach, all he could do was dry heave.
Luke spied a pick-up truck sitting farther up the road and got the man moving in that direction as soon as the episode passed. By the time they made it to the vehicle, the man was breathing heavily and Luke didn’t miss the grunts of pain. Guilt went through him at the knowledge that the vomiting was likely making his injury hurt all the more. Luke could feel wetness seeping through his own shirt but he ignored it, taking nearly all the man’s weight on himself as he reached for the passenger side door. It was a struggle but he managed to get him into the seat.
“You’re bleeding,” the stranger said softly as his glazed eyes fell to Luke’s side. Luke glanced down and saw that a small amount of blood had seeped through his shirt. He’d definitely torn his stitches but when he pulled his shirt up, he sighed in relief to see that most of them were still intact. Looking up, he saw that the man’s gaze was on the injury and when Luke dropped the shirt to cover it, the man’s hazel eyes lifted to his. But anything he was about to say died on his lips as he began retching once more.
ChapterTwo
Gray felt his stomach roll as he swung his legs over the side of the bed but blessedly, he didn’t feel the tell-tale sign of bile creeping up the back of his throat so he didn’t make a dash for the bathroom. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to swallow away the dryness in his mouth along with the distinct metallic flavor that seemed to permeate his taste buds. It was just more proof that everything the doctors had been telling him was true and he bit back the disappointment that he hadn’t been able to prove them wrong. His entire life had been about telling the people who said he couldn’t do something – that he’d never be anything – to fuck off. But this…well, this he could tell to fuck off but it wouldn’t matter if he whispered it or shouted it at the top of his lungs. His disease would always come out on top.
As he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, Gray listened for any sounds that would indicate his unexpected guest was still around. It had been humiliating enough to throw up in front of the guy even the one time. But to have kept on doing it in the truck – his truck that he’d had no choice but to let the stranger drive – was the icing on the cake. Or so he’d thought at the time. Then they’d gotten back to his place and instead of heeding the guy’s warning to wait for him to help him out of the truck, Gray had shoved the door open in a pathetic act of defiance and hadn’t even made it a step before a wave of dizziness swept through him and he’d fallen to his knees on the parched earth that was his driveway. Heavy black combat boots had appeared in his line of vision but fortunately there was nothing left in his stomach to expel, so at least the guy’s shoes didn’t track puke all through the cabin when he’d helped Gray to the bathroom.
At that point, Gray hadn’t given a shit about pride anymore and after he’d hung over the toilet for several long, agonizing minutes, he’d curled himself into a ball on the wonderfully cool, tile floor and closed his eyes and prayed it was over. It wasn’t of course – not after an hour, not even after two. And then he’d simply lost track of time as well as the will to care. He hadn’t cared about the rough hands that had held him upright as he heaved next to nothing into the porcelain bowl and he hadn’t cared about the cool washcloth pressed to his forehead. The only time he’d even tried to speak was when the guy had placed a glass of water against his lips and told him to drink. As good as the water had felt against his tongue for the split second before it tasted like someone had shoved a handful of coins in his mouth, he hadn’t seen the point since it stayed in his stomach only for a few minutes each time. But his brief protest hadn’t even seemed to register with the stranger because he kept forcing Gray to drink and then wrapped an arm around Gray’s chest so his body was protected from the edge of the toilet seat. Everything after that was a blank. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to get to his bed but he had a sneaking suspicion.
Gray forced himself to his feet but kept a hand on the nightstand as his lax muscles tried to recover. His head started to spin but luckily the nausea didn’t worsen and within a few minutes, the lightheadedness passed and he managed to take a few steps forward without falling. His bedroom door was slightly ajar which definitely wouldn’t have been the way he left it because he always shut himself into a room even after years of living alone.
By the time he reached the door, he was ready to turn back around and crawl into bed again but the curiosity to see if he still had any personal possessions left was too great. While a lot of his smaller valuables were tucked away in boxes, he’d been out of it for so long that the mystery man could have taken his time cleaning him out. He just really hoped the man had left his books behind. Laptop, big screen TV, tablet – losing that shit would suck but if the guy had taken his books…
The cabin wasn’t huge in any sense of the word but it wasn’t until Gray reached the kitchen that he heard the sound and it took him several long seconds to figure out what it was. He glanced out the window and was relieved to see his truck sitting in the driveway but the tell-tale sound of metal biting through wood had his gut churning with anxiety. A glance at the clock on the stove showed it was only one o’clock in the afternoon. He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure since he didn’t know what day it was but in all likelihood, it had only been twenty-four hours since he’d been staring down the barrel of a gun. The gun whose owner apparently hadn’t left yet.
Gray glanced around the kitchen for his phone. He’d left it sitting in the cup holder in his truck when he’d gotten out to check on the dog so he had no idea if it had made it inside or not. There was a landline in the cabin but he hadn’t even considered getting it activated since he always had his cell phone which had ended up having decent reception even in the mountainous region. His only other option to seek help was if he could get to his laptop which he’d left sitting on the coffee table in the living room. But even as he began moving, it registered that if the guy had wanted to do anything to him, he sure as hell had had plenty of opportunities. And so far everything in his bedroom and the kitchen had looked untouched and completely normal.
It took only half a dozen steps to reach the living room but it definitely wasn’t untouched. Most everything was still as he’d left it. Laptop on the table, flat screen still attached to the wall, his three boxes of books stacked neatly near the desk against the far window. But it was the pile of tree branches on the floor between the TV and the desk that had his attention. He estimated them to be about five feet long and all of them had a clean, straight cut on one end.
“Oh, hey.”
Gray whirled around at the husky voice behind him and had to reach out to grab onto his desk to keep from falling. He hadn’t even heard the door open because he’d been too busy trying to figure out what the hell a bunch of trees were doing in his house.
“You look better,” the guy said as he moved past Gray and leaned the branch he’d been holding in one hand against the wall. In his other hand was a flatter piece of wood. And tucked in the waistband of his pants was the gun.
Gray was at a loss for words as he watched the man lean down and start picking up the other branches so he could lean them against the wall. A wet nose pressed into Gray’s hand and he glanced down to see the German Shepherd sniffing him. He let his hand skim over the dog’s head.
“You okay with her being in here?” the guy asked and Gray snapped his eyes up to see the man studying him.
Was he okay with the dog being in here? Shit, he wasn’t okay with anything that was going on.
“I was able to get her cleaned up a bit,” the man offered and Gray looked down again and saw that the dog did indeed look better than it had.
“Did you use my shampoo on her?” Gray asked in surprise as he recognized the woodsy scent wafting off the animal.
“Yeah. Found it in your shower. Worked better than I thought it would.”
“It should,” Gray muttered. “It’s a hundred bucks a bottle.”
The guy actually snorted but didn’t respond. Instead he said, “You should drink something. You’re bound to be dehydrated.”
The reminder of the situation had Gray drawing up as straight as he could considering that even just the thought of trying to drink anything had his nausea coming back in full force.
“You mind if I take a look?” the guy suddenly asked and then he was standing only a few inches away from Gray. The sudden punch of desire that slammed through Gray was unexpected. It wasn’t that the man wasn’t his type since Gray wasn’t at all discriminating – a nice dick, tight ass and fuckable mouth had always been his only requirements. But that was before…and this guy had all that in spades and more. He was big – at least 6’2 and his wide shoulders and chest led down to a trim waist. The dark green T-shirt he was wearing was snug and hinted at generous, well-defined muscles.
The man’s face wasn’t handsome in the classical sense but his wide, stubble-covered jaw had Gray wanting to know how it would feel brushing over his skin as those full lips explored him. Stormy grayish-blue eyes were surrounded by black lashes that looked too long to belong to a man, but somehow seemed to work for this guy. Dark brows just a shade lighter than his closely cropped hair were arched in perfect unison over his hooded gaze which was studying Gray with curiosity. It took Gray a long moment to realize the guy had asked him a question.
“What?”
“Can I take a look at your ribs?”
The man’s hand was already reaching for Gray’s shirt and it wasn’t until then that Gray realized he hadn’t even thought to put on clothes when he’d gotten out of bed. At least he was wearing sweats and a T-shirt but he sure as hell hadn’t been wearing them yesterday when he’d been hunched over the toilet. He was about to ask the guy if he’d somehow managed to miraculously undress and redress himself when warm fingers pressed against the side of his chest.
“Fuck,” Gray said as he pulled back.
