Long Road Home (2 page)

He threw on a coat and slipped on a pair of boots before he went out to meet the driver. The day’s chill found its way through the layer of protection anyway and left him wishing for a warm fire. It was only early October, but the autumn had been cooler than usual. The chill in the air didn’t leave him optimistic about a gentle winter.

“Howdy.” He held his hand out to the tall man who climbed down from the semi’s cab. “I’m Thom McKay. Drew told me somebody would be here today.”

“Hank.”

Thom’s blood heated with appreciation for the truck driver’s wide shoulders, curly blond hair, and the slight stubble clinging to his cheeks and chin before the man took his hand. Damn. He had a grip. “So, you part of Drew’s commune?” The words were out before he could stop them. If he could’ve kicked himself, he would’ve. Drew was the best customer he’d gotten in two seasons. He ordered in bulk and paid in cash. The man’s personal affairs weren’t any of his business. Or so he kept telling himself. The only thing McKay should care about was the income Drew and his people offered him.

“Commune?” His voice held a note of confusion.

“Sorry. I meant…community?” He could only hope Hank bought the obvious lie. He really hadn’t meant to offend the guy.

Hank tipped his head and laughed. The sound sent a wave of warmth through him. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound of men laughing until it enveloped him. “Community. I like it. The answer is no.” He took a breath before he continued, “I’m not a resident of Los Lobos. I’m only hauling supplies for them. If you’d show me where their order is, I’ll get out of your hair.”

When the man looked down, Thom realized he still held onto the man’s hand. Under Hank’s scrutiny, he loosened his grasp, then allowed his hand to slide away. The rough calluses swept against his palm and made his cock jump. Not enough of a reaction for the other man to notice, but enough to cause more havoc in Thom’s already chaotic mind. He had to get their meeting back to business if there was any hope of him getting through it without doing something really stupid. “The order is already boxed up in the barn. I’ll walk you to it and show you around. Then you can pull your rig up and we’ll get you loaded.”

“Appreciate it.” The trucker’s voice had dropped an octave and held a rich smokiness it hadn’t before.

If we were at a club
…. He silenced the thought. They weren’t at a club. Hank was a client. He’d imagined the heat in the other man’s voice because he wanted to hear it there.

They walked down the muddy driveway in silence. Thom didn’t trust himself to speak without saying something stupid, and Hank appeared to be the silent type. When they walked into the barn, however, Thom had no choice but to address him. The discussion centered around the crates of potatoes, kale, and broccoli Drew had ordered.

When they reached the last of the crates, he had regained most of his composure. “We’re almost at the end of our growing season, but I’ve reached out to a couple farmers I know in Texas. They can supply you with staples until the growing season starts up again.”

“Texas?”

“Of course, there’s plenty here to last Drew’s people for a couple weeks. My fields will produce through the month. If Drew wants to continue buying from farms directly, however, he’s going to have to start looking toward the south.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud bang echoing through the air. He recognized the sound of a gun being fired a split second after Hank’s large, muscular, not to mention warm, body crashed into his and threw him to the ground. For a second he worried Hank had been hit. He dismissed the idea when the man rolled off him and then jumped up to a crouch. His movements were so quick and fluid. He couldn’t have been injured.

“Are you okay?” Hank ran his palms over Thom’s body patting his arms and legs at random intervals. “Were you hit?”

He jumped as Hank patted his thigh. Dear God. The man was about to find out more about Thom’s condition then he probably ever wanted to. “Nope. Not hit.” He rolled over as a second shot rang through the eerie silence. This time he noticed the shot had come from the yard. “I think the target is outside.” The statement was followed by four more shots. When the trucker went to run for the door, he grabbed the man’s arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

Hank brushed him off. “I’m going to go see who’s shooting and at what.”

The statement had been so matter of fact, he didn’t process it until the other man took another step toward the barn door. “Wait. You can’t go out there. Whoever is shooting will start shooting at you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He grabbed Hank again. “Really? Are you bulletproof? I didn’t think so.”

“What do you suggest? We can’t stay in the barn all day. We’ll be pinned if they storm it.”

After a few more seconds passed by with no more gunfire, the barn returned to the tense quiet as the animals settled down. “I don’t think so. I think they’ve gotten whatever they came for.” Before Hank could go commando on him again, Thom pulled out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“The police.”

Hank shook his head and stormed out the door. The phone rang in Thom’s ear as the call went through, but he ignored it. He focused on the silence and waited for another gunshot. When none came, he allowed himself to take a deep breath.

Relief rushed through him, but irritation quickly followed. He’d told Hank not to leave the barn. He couldn’t have known for sure the shooter had left. Yet the man had stormed out of the safety of the building with little care for his own life. What kind of person did that?

“The kind with a death wish.” His words sliced through the eerie quiet of the barn. Even if the trucker didn’t belong to Drew’s cult, he was bad news. Any man who rushed toward gunfire had disaster coded into his DNA. So why were the crazy ones always so damn sexy? He shook his head in disbelief as dispatch answered his call.

He stayed on the line until the woman took all his information then went out into the yard to find Hank. No shots followed him when Hank had exited the barn. Maybe whoever had been firing left. Staying in the shelter and waiting for the police seemed cowardly.

Scanning the yard cautiously, it didn’t take long to spot him. He stood by his rig, yelling into a cell phone so loud Thom wouldn’t be surprised if the entire county could hear him.

“They shot out six of my tires.”

His rig had been the target? Why would anybody shoot at a semi? The realization added to his confidence in the decision to leave the barn. Neither he nor Hank had been in danger. Not if the person had been aiming at a truck.

“Of course I have a spare. Two spares. One on a rim and one without. What I don’t have is six. Isn’t there a mechanic in Los Lobos?” Silence filled the air for a few more minutes. “Fuck. You’re telling me he can’t get out here until tomorrow? Are you serious? Fine. I’ll call a service. They’ll have me up and going in no time.”

“I know a guy who owns—” Thom’s offer went ignored.

“Come on, Drew. I’m sure he’s a good mechanic, but I can’t wait for him. I need to get these crates loaded and get back to town.” He lowered his voice to a register too low for Thom to hear so he took a couple of steps forward. He wasn’t nosy, but if Hank knew something about the people shooting up his farm, then Thom deserved to hear whatever he said in the conversation.

Hank looked up from the ruined wheels and met his gaze for one exhilarating second then he broke the contact and turned so Thom faced his broad back. “I don’t believe in coincidences, either. If I’m the target…. Okay. Fine. I’ll sleep in my cab, but Jackson better be out here at first light.” He hung up after the final words in the cryptic conversation.

Had Hank been the real target after all? Nobody had ever taken shots at the farm until the truck driver showed up. The only thing to take any real damage had been the truck.

If Hank were in danger, Thom couldn’t let him sleep alone in the cab of the truck. “You don’t have to stay in your truck. I’ve got plenty of rooms in the house.” Sure, Hank happened to be hot as hell. Thom’s cock had gone hard when Hank had been frisking him in the barn, but he had to keep their relationship focused on business. He needed the income Drew would bring him, which meant keeping him happy. Having one of his men shot at while on his farm definitely didn’t count as a great start.

Hank turned to face him again. This time he wore an easy smile. “I gave Drew a hard time because he won’t let me call anybody else to come fix the rig. Something about insurance claims. It’ll be all a lot easier for him if I have his mechanic do the work. I’m really okay sleeping in my cab. It’s a comfortable setup, but I wanted him to make him feel bad.”

“Oh. Okay.” Disappointment made his tone a little flat, but he doubted Hank would notice. “I’m going to order a pizza after the cops leave. You’re more than welcome to a couple of slices.”

Hank started to say something, but his words were lost as another loud shot splintered the silence. Burning pain enveloped Thom’s thigh as his legs collapsed. He crashed to the ground, but the jarring pain he expected from the fall never happened. Instead, a weird numbness filled him.

“Fuck!” Hank’s voice shifted into something like a growl as Thom’s hold on consciousness grew weaker. “The police are almost here. You have to stay awake.”

Maybe he hadn’t growled? Maybe it’d been the sirens he’d heard? Nothing made sense. “Somebody shot me.”

Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he fought against the need to pace. He had to do something. Frustration ate at him—insisted he move. He had to keep it together. He needed to plead his case to Drew. He’d been amazed when Drew had shown up at the hospital to check on Thom. The opportunity to speak privately with the Alpha couldn’t be lost.

“No.” Drew’s firm answer made the frustration shift to rage. He kept the emotion firmly in check, though.

“He was attacked because he tried to help us.” He had to make Drew see the logic behind his argument.

“You don’t know why he was attacked. There’s no proof the attacker is aware of his connection to my pack.” Drew kept his voice low. The hospital hall might be teeming with human doctors, nurses, and visitors but the conversation would stay between them. “Also, he isn’t helping us out. We made a business deal. We both benefited from it.”

“He agrees to sell us his crops and is shot when we go to pick up our first delivery? It’s a pretty big coincidence, don’t you think?”

The Alpha looked at the glass partition separating them from Thom’s room. “Did you smell anything out of the ordinary when you were out there?”

“No. The gunpowder overpowered anything else.” He closed his eyes and the moment the bullet cut through the farmer flashed through his mind. The sights and sounds remained vivid, but he couldn’t recall any unusual scents. “My gut tells me we played a role in this, however.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Drew released a deep breath. “But you’re still on the fence about coming back to the pack. I’m taking a chance on you.”

“I know.”

“Because I think you’re worth the gamble. But I can’t extend the hospitality to a human. It’d put the pack in too much danger.”

A small growl escaped before he could stop it.

“It’s frustrating.” Drew’s voice was calm yet commanding. “I know. I don’t want to see him hurt. I like the guy, but I’ve got to think about my pack.”

“There are humans living in the pack. They’re part of the reason we need him.” He glanced from Drew to Thom’s room as he spoke.

“Yes.” Drew’s voice had started to sound strained. “We do need him because more humans live in Los Lobos now. Those humans can’t hunt for food like we can. But,” he paused, giving the word emphasis, “those humans are mated to Wolves who’ve taken a blood oath to me. There are consequences if they say anything about us. Even if there weren’t consequences, they have a vested interest in keeping our secret. They don’t want their mate to die. Which is exactly what would happen if they told anybody about us.” Drew held his gaze until he was forced to look down. “Is that what we’re talking about here? Do you want to say the oath and take him as a mate? Put your life in his hands? Because as far as I know, you met him today.” The harsh tone made him wince.

Had Drew admitted to knowing Hank was homosexual? He shook off the idea. Drew had only been pointing out how ridiculous the idea had been. Nothing more. “Fine. He can’t recover at Los Lobos. I get it.” The situation sucked, but he understood. Drew’s hands were tied. “Staying in Los Lobos isn’t the only way for us to protect him.”

“I’m listening.”

The simple statement won over another piece of his soul. He felt the shift. If Drew still wanted him after hearing the whole truth, he would eventually take the oath. Any Wolf would fight for their Alpha, but they would kill for an Alpha who took their counsel. He needed to wait for Thom to be okay before he took the oath. “Would you be willing to place a couple guards in the woods around his farm and let me stay at his place while he healed?”

“He would have to invite you to stay with him. I don’t have any authority with him. I can talk with Ryker about the guard, though. He knows the watch schedule. He’d be the one to determine if we could spare a couple of Wolves.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t make any promises.”

Hank smiled and nodded. “You’re willing to check into it. That’s enough.”

“I’ll know something for certain before he’s discharged.”

“Thank you.”

Drew nodded before turning on his heel and walking away. Hank wanted to check on Thom—make sure he didn’t need anything, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching the Alpha leave. His Alpha. If Drew would have him, he’d take the oath. The man had won him over.

When Drew turned a corner, Hank took a settling breath then crossed into the small room. The stink of anesthetic and blood assaulted him and for one second he had to force himself to breathe. There were few things he hated in this world as much as the sticky-sweet smell of human blood.

“You okay?” Thom’s weak voice highlighted the ironic nature of the question.