Page 8 of No Strings Attached

* * * *

Morgan took his phone from his pocket and called Sheriff Harper when Sam’s breathing evened out.

“How’s your mate?” Dominic asked when he answered.

“His name is Sam Mercer. He claims he doesn’t remember anything, but his eyes told a different story.”

The bluest eyes Morgan had ever seen. They reminded him of freshly picked blueberries.

“I asked him if there was anyone I could call for him, but he said no.” Morgan sat back in the uncomfortable chair, wishing he had one that accommodated his size.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Dominic said.

Morgan stood and leaned against the wall, looking out the window at the parking lot below. “Dr. Baldwin examined him. He said Sam’s wounds look good. No sign of infection.”

If Morgan and Sam were already mated, the human’s wounds would heal much faster. Morgan didn’t like the fear in his mate’s eyes whenever Sam looked at him. Did the human fear cops because he was involved in something bad, or did he just fear them in general?

Morgan wanted to know, but his mate wasn’t going to give him any answers. Whatever he was hiding, Sam was keeping it to himself.

“I’ll run his name,” Dominic said. “I took you off the schedule until you sort things out with your mate. If I find something on him, I’ll give you a call.”

“Thanks.” Morgan hung up, watching someone park their car. As people walked down the street, he was thankful he wasn’t in the oppressive heat right now.

“No!” Sam shouted and jerked in his bed, his arms flailing as if he was fighting someone in his dreams.

Morgan moved to the bed and grabbed the man’s arms.

“You’re safe, Sam.”

His mate jerked a few more times before he settled down, his breathing evening out again. Morgan eased his grip off his mate’s arms and sat, rubbing his forehead. One way or another, he was going to find out what was going on with Sam. Morgan was also going to make damn sure no one ever hurt the human again.

* * * *

“I want to see you in three days,” Dr. Baldwin said after he examined Sam. “My office number will be on your discharge papers. Make sure you call to make an appointment. You’ll be able to get out of here in a few hours. Do you have someone at home to help you?”

“Yes,” Sam lied.

With an approving nod, the doctor walked out. Sam sat up, wincing at the dull pain in his back, wondering why he hadn’t seen Morgan all morning. The deputy had hung out in Sam’s room for the past few days, which still baffled him.

Morgan had tried to question him again yesterday, but Sam kept to his story that he didn’t remember anything. Now he was going to be discharged with nowhere to go. Sam didn’t even know where his car was.

Even if it was in the hospital parking lot, which he doubted, the AC didn’t work, and there was no way Sam could live in it with the heatwave outside.

Twenty minutes later Morgan walked in, a bag in his hand. “Dr. Baldwin told me you’re being discharged. Since your shirt was cut off when you got here, I bought you another one and some shorts. It’s still hotter than shit outside, and I don’t think you want to put your jeans back on.”

Still confused about the guy’s presence, Sam watched Morgan set the plastic bag on the end of his bed. “I can’t accept the clothes.”

Morgan’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“I can’t pay you back for them,” he stated.

“I bought them because you needed clothes, Sam.” Morgan sat next to his bed. “I don’t expect you to pay me back.”

“Nothing is for free,” Sam replied, though he was dying to see what the guy had bought. He didn’t have a lot clothes, and the ones he did have didn’t fit right since he’d lost weight.

“The clothes are.” Morgan rested his elbows on his knees. “I couldn’t let you walk out of here with no shirt or in a hospital gown.” He grabbed the bag and pulled out a sleeveless blue shirt. Sam brushed his fingers over the fabric, amazed at how soft the material felt.

The shorts were also blue, a darker shade than the shirt, but they felt like silk under his fingertips. He bet they would feel just as nice against his skin.

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