Chapter 9

A fighter lay on the table, reaching for his side in pain. Glancing over at Jared, knowing his Dom was giving him a chance to make the prognosis, Wren grabbed a pen and took it apart.

Shaking his head, Jared latched onto his wrist. “We’re not in the field and he’s not showing signs of a punctured lung.”

“Then...I can’t help him.” Wren’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t like having the wrong answer. It was like losing when he went all in, and he never did that. “Will he die? Can I dissect the body to know what I did wrong?”

Jared chuckled, patting the arm of the fighter who looked ready to throw himself off the exam table. “No. He’s not dying. His body needs time to heal. And he needs medication to help him get past the worst. There is no quick, easy fix, my boy. That’s what you need to learn. Sometimes, the answer is accepting you can only help in small ways. And that has to be enough.”

At the rest stop, Wren watched Reed. Sitting on the hood of the SUV, Reed was sipping at the large soda Lawson had brought him, singing another song he’d been excited to share with Jamie before he’d left. One Drink Away by Cher Lloyd. It reminded Wren of how Reed had been with Sin, that last night at The Asylum. Reed had a reputation at the club that he’d been trying to rid himself of for months. But he was still...him.

Not good. Not bad. A wild, free spirit no one could really contain.

Those who tried didn’t fare well.

Which seemed like it would be difficult for a sub to maintain. Wren couldn’t do it. He cringed at the thought of spinning so far out of control, but then he thought of the times he’d seen Lawson, or Jared, pull Reed back in when he’d seemed to reach the very end of the leashes they held. Not jerking him back, but giving a gentle tug to remind him they were there. More recently, Curtis had been working on doing the same.

What would he do if he was here now? Would he see that Reed needed a bit of slack? Would he decide now was when Reed needed to be pulled back?

But...he wasn’t here. He’d pulled to the very end of his own leash to be redirected by those who held control over him. Who saw he’d been damn close to running right into the middle of the road, focused on what was on the other side and not the cars coming at him.

Standing right where Noah had put him, breathing in the fresh air Noah said he needed, Wren struggled to figure out what he could offer Reed. He knew he was here mostly for Noah, but Reed was his friend. He hated to see him hurting in any way.

Most of all in a way he didn’t understand.

Internal bleeding would have been much easier.

“Hey.” Reed smiled as Wren approached, bracing his hands on the windshield behind him and stretching. “Come sit with me. Tell me where the campground is. I was taking a look at gay clubs in the area and thinking we should check out a few. Noah and Lawson would never go for it.”

Looking at the dirt streaked hood, then his nice new jeans, Wren hesitated. Then took Reed’s hand, letting the other sub pull him up. He sat stiffly, hoping the hood wouldn’t dent under his weight. “Reed...you need to stop drinking for at least twenty-four hours before surgery. A week would be better.”

“I know. Tonight will be my last night.” Reed put his chin on Wren’s shoulder. “I’ve read up on everything. Me never drinking much will make me a good candidate. And my body will metabolize wherever I drink over the next week if I only do it once. I want to forget. I want to dance and have fun. And be me. I won’t be...after. Not for a long time. I’ll be slow and tired and I won’t be able to fight. I know how people will react. They’ll be so fucking careful. I need one night without that. And without the drama of the club.”

“Okay.” Wren knew better. And he’d accept whatever consequences came from this, but he understood what Reed was asking for. He was better at research than the other sub and knew exactly what the future held. This one night?

He was more than willing to give it to him.

Whatever it cost.

Because it wouldn’t cost the thing that mattered in the end. Reed wanting to give a sister he’d never know her future.

He held up a hand when Reed grinned. “One condition. You stop when I say. Yes, you not being a heavy drinker helps, but it won’t if you overdo it. Your liver will need to recover. The more it has to recover from, the more risky the surgery and your healing process.”

“I know.” Reed pulled him close, taking his lips in a slow, soft kiss. “That’s one of the many reasons I need you there. Because I don’t want to damage the useful part of me. I just want us to have some good memories to tide me over.”

“We have so many.” Wren wished Curtis were here. That he could be the one setting limits that would be beyond what either Lawson or Jared would accept, but still close to tolerable. But him being where he was meant he’d be alive to be there when Reed needed him later. And today? Wren was who Reed had. “The Asylum’s bar is the only one I’ve ever been to. I...wouldn’t mind seeing another. With you. To have a new memory.”

Reed kissed him again before drawing back as Noah and Lawson came out of the rest stop with food. Hand on the back of Wren’s neck, Reed spoke softly. “Thank you.”

“If you were with any other sub, I’d be worried.” Lawson let out a soft laugh, slipping his arm around Reed’s waist and pulling him to the edge of the SUV, legs at either side of his thighs. “I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with Pike. It’s nice to see you smile for real.”

Reed snuggled up to his Dom, letting out a happy sigh. “I’m a survivor, sir. You know that. The rest is gravy.”