Dorian cracked his eyes open, seeing a stranger standing over him.
The man was holding Dorian’s wrist and messing with an IV.
He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his mouth was so dry that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“Relax, Dorian,” the stranger said.
“I don’t need you moving around.”
“Is he awake?”
Dorian recognized Rick’s voice.
He couldn’t mistake it for anyone else’s.
Rick’s deep baritone sank into Dorian, damn near making him cry with relief.
He wasn’t sure why he was reacting this way.
“What bus hit me?” Dorian croaked out, stretching his mouth, wishing he had something to drink.
Rick appeared by his side, a small bendy straw in his hand.
The straw was placed at his lips, and Dorian took a small sip of water.
“You were shot,” the stranger said.
“Damn close to your heart, I might add. You are one lucky-ass human.”
“Ease up, Bryson,” Rick warned.
Dorian tried to move his left arm and whimpered.
It was an unmanly sound, but damn it, he was hurting.
“Lie still, Dorian,” Rick said in the gentlest of tones, making Dorian wary.
“Am I dying?” he asked.
Rick shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why are you talking to me in that tone?”
Rick laughed and Dorian became even more confused.
“Just lie still and rest. You’ve been out of it for two days.”
Dorian saw Rick’s grey eyes soften, and then the man turned away.
He had to be dying for Rick to look at him with such warmth and wistfulness.
“And the guy who shot me?” Dorian asked.
When Rick turned back, Dorian was shocked to see such fury in the man’s eyes.
Why in the hell was the guy going through such an emotional roller coaster?
It was as if Rick had started to care about Dorian.
He wasn’t allowed to do that.
They had an unspoken deal.
Rick didn’t want a mate, and Dorian didn’t want to be his mate.
Rick couldn’t change his mind.
Dorian didn’t want Rick to change his mind.
He was already battling his feelings toward the man.
It was much easier to fight against the forced mating when Rick agreed with him.
“He got away. Nate and Selene distracted them so I could get you out of there, but the fight was short-lived. There were too many for my enforcers to handle.”
Dorian looked from Rick to Bryson, and then back at Rick.
“Too many what?” He wasn’t sure how much Bryson knew and didn’t want to give anything away if Rick didn’t want the man to know.
They were on the run, and if Rick gave the guy a false story, he wanted to make sure he didn’t ruin it.
“Rest, Dorian. We’ll talk later.” Rick’s eyes cut quickly to Bryson and then down at Dorian.
Rick didn’t want to talk about things in front of the stranger.
When Bryson gave them his back to look through an orange duffle bag, Dorian mouthed, “Is he changeling?”
Rick nodded, mouthing back, “I’ll tell you everything when he leaves.”
Dorian relaxed, or as much as he could with a shoulder wound and half of the county after them.
Rick had said he didn’t think it was werehyenas, but who else could it be?
From what Rick had told him, those bastards weren’t giving up.
“My job here is done,” Bryson announced, grabbing the orange bag from the table at the window.
“Keep an eye on the wound, check for infection, and make sure he doesn’t develop a fever. If you have any questions or concerns, call me.” He handed Rick a small bag.
“There are the rest of his antibiotics and some pretty strong painkillers in there. I also left you with some gauze bandages and some antiseptic cream. The instructions are pretty easy to follow. Let the IV finish before taking it out. Do I need to show you how to remove it?”
“No.” Rick shook his head, tucking the small bag under his arm.
“I’ve been watching you for days. I get the gist of it.” Rick shook Bryson’s hand.
“Thanks for helping me out.”
Bryson smiled.
“Anything for my alpha. Take care you two.”
As soon as the motel door closed, Rick rushed around the room, gathering things.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to get out of here. I’m not that familiar with Bryson, he’s pretty new to the pack, and right about now, I only trust a very limited amount of people.”
“Will you explain to me what’s going on when we leave?” Dorian asked, trying to sit up, but couldn’t.
The pain in his shoulder exploded, instantly making Dorian sweat as he bit back a scream.
Dorian didn’t like being an invalid, but he had no choice.
Not only was his shoulder killing him, but he was dizzy as hell.
He wanted to ask for one of the painkillers, but didn’t want to go back to sleep until Rick told him everything.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Rick shook his head.
“Not now. We don’t have time.”
“I’ll pencil it into your—” Dorian rolled, shouted from the pain, and then emptied what little he had on his stomach.
It wasn’t much, just something green and foamy.
“Shit,” Rick said as he walked to the bathroom and then came back with a wet cloth.
He wiped Dorian’s mouth.
“Better?”
Dorian groaned and then whimpered once more when Rick helped him turn back over.
“I swear, if you keep being nice to me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Rick growled.
Dorian felt better.
That was the Rick he was used to dealing with.
“Are we ready to leave?”
“Give me a second to open the car door.” Rick picked up a travel bag and the smaller one Bryson had given him, heading out the door.
He was back in seconds, removing the IV.
Damn, that stung.
Rick tossed it aside, tucked the sheet around Dorian, and then lifted him.
“You’ve lost weight.”
“How would you know?” Dorian asked, but Rick chose to ignore him.
He was placed in the front seat, and then Rick reached in and buckled the seat belt.
Dorian didn’t say a word.
His shoulder was killing him.
Rick wasn’t acting himself and that worried Dorian.
The man was too attentive, too agreeable.
Maybe he was dying after all, or something big had taken place while Dorian was out of it.
Rick slipped into the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going now?”
“Out of state,” Rick answered.
“Things are too hot for us to stay here.”
“Explain.”
Rick drove and Dorian listened.
By the time Rick was done explaining what had happened, all the way up until the phone call in the motel bathroom, Dorian was too stunned to talk.
“I’m not sure how credible the caller is, but he was correct about the Death Squad. I can’t think of any reason he would lie to me about what’s really going on. There is nothing to gain by giving me the false intel.”
“But they think I am compromised because I am with you,” Dorian said thoughtfully.
“Does that bother you?”
Not as much as it should.
Dorian wasn’t a narrow-minded man like Jayson.
But he had never known what to think of changelings.
After meeting the ones at Miguel’s dinner, he should hate them.
But after spending time around changelings like Graham, Olivia, and even Benito and Miguel, he knew they weren’t the savages humans were trying to make them out to be.
Well, unless someone was bleeding around them.
Rick was a constant confusion for him.
Dorian never knew what to think about the district manager.
“No. It should, but it doesn’t.”
Rick cleared his throat.
“If you want, I can take you somewhere no one will find you. You don’t have to stay with me. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be safe at home right now.”
The offer reverberated inside Dorian’s head.
Here was his chance to get out of this.
Here was his chance to try and clear his name, telling the authorities that he had nothing to do with those murders or Rick.
“I’m staying.”
Dorian swallowed back his fear.
Rick was a part of his life now.
How it happened, he wasn’t quite sure, but the thought of separating from the man was more than Dorian wanted to think about right at the moment.
So he didn’t.
He sat there quietly as the miles ticked by, staring at the scenery and wondering if they were going to get out of this alive.
The government was after them.
Dorian wasn’t sure they would be able to fight against such a strong force.
It was just him and Rick.
The odds were against them.
They could die.
But Dorian knew they couldn’t just stand by while innocent men and women were slaughtered for simply being different.
His conscience wouldn’t allow him to just walk away.
As the caller said, humans and nonhumans alike were counting on them. Get faster updates on g.com.
He wasn’t sure what they were going to do, or how he and Rick were going to win this war, but as long as Rick fought, so would Dorian.
He had never had anything to fight for, now he not only had Ian to keep safe, but an entire species.
The weight of that responsibility alone was enough to make Dorian terrified.
“I smell fear. Talk to me, Dorian.”
Dorian fisted his hands in his lap, glancing at the man who was not only winning his heart, but who would either lead a rebellion, or die trying.
How could he not respect someone like that?
“I’m scared,” he admitted.
“So am I.”
Dorian couldn’t believe the mighty Rick had admitted that.
“Really?”
“I walked around for the past four years making sure I didn’t seem weak in anyone’s eyes. I fought for respect, made my pack the strongest, only rivaled by the leopards to our south. And now that I face what could amount to my death, I realize that my strength didn’t come from who I bested, but who I cared for, who I helped along the way. It should be the same way in this fight. I’m not only going to help nonhumans, but humans as well. They’ve shown me that not all are bad.”
“And I’ve been shown that not all changelings are bad.”
“Exactly,” Rick said and then reached over, squeezing Dorian’s hand before releasing it.
“And I’m glad I have you by my side.”
“Didn’t I warn you about being so damn nice to me?” Dorian asked, hiding how he was truly feeling.
Rick chuckled.
“That you did. Sit back and shut the fuck up. Better?”
“Much.” Dorian sat back, adjusting his position so he wouldn’t put so much pressure on his healing shoulder, and then closed his eyes.
Hopefully, when he woke up, this would have all been a dream.
* * * *
Rick yawned, blinking a few times as he drove down the long stretch of darkened highway.
It didn’t help that his back window was still busted.
The cool night air was tempting him to fall asleep.
He knew he needed to stop for the night, but he also knew he couldn’t check into a motel under his name.
Luckily, the last motel had taken double the amount the room was worth as long as Rick didn’t have to show ID.
He wasn’t so sure that would keep working.
He needed a new identity for him and Dorian.
The credit cards and bank cards he was carrying would no longer be useful for him.
If the government was involved, Rick was sure they were tracking him.
As much as he hated to think it, he had to change vehicles, too.
He could have Nate come pick up his Mustang and store it for him.
It was riddled with bullet holes and sported a busted back windshield, but it wasn’t anything Rick couldn’t have fixed.
He also needed to get a throwaway phone.
Living on the run wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
There were many things he had to consider now that he never had to consider before.
Like Dorian’s safety.
The man was knocked out cold in the passenger’s seat.
Dorian had woken up in pain, and Rick had pulled over, giving him one of the painkillers.
He checked Dorian’s shoulder, made sure it was healing properly, and then the human had passed out.
That was four hours ago.
Rick spotted a gas station up ahead, lights still on, and decided to stop.
He needed to get out and stretch.
He also had to use the bathroom.
Pulling in, Rick made sure the car was far enough away from the front door so no cameras could record him, and then got out.
He locked the car up—even though the car had no back window—and hurried around back.
The men’s door was locked, so Rick moved further behind the building and took care of his business nature’s way.
Once he was done, he walked back around front, checked to make sure Dorian was still asleep, and then walked into the store.
Dorian needed fluids.
Rick grabbed three bottles of Gatorade and then headed toward the counter, trying to keep his head down and his face off camera.
Overparanoid?
Maybe, but he had no idea if his every move wasn’t being dogged by the Death Squad.
Nate had managed to keep them occupied long enough for Rick to get away, but he wasn’t sure how good they were at tracking him down.
Two days in the motel had been nerve racking.
Rick had stayed glued to the window most of the time, waiting, watching for the black SUV.
He went for his wallet and stopped.
He couldn’t use his credit card here.
Digging into his front pocket, Rick inwardly groaned when he realized he only had twenty-five dollars.
He was going to have to call Nate for some cash.
“That it?” the cashier asked.
Rick nodded, handing the man the twenty.
As he waited for his change, Rick glanced at the newspaper stand and nearly cursed.
As casually as he could, Rick grabbed his change, and the Gatorade, and headed for the door, praying the cashier didn’t recognize Rick’s face from the photo of him and Dorian on the front page of the newspaper.