Page 36 of Bear the Burden

Wesley wiped at his eyes and bit his lip to stop it from trembling. Hyett’s hand tightened on him. “We got into a huge fight because those friends kept crashing at our house. Freeloaders. A few things of mine also came up missing.”

“His friends were stealing from you,” Hyett murmured.

“Jackson was,” Wesley admitted. “My mom’s jewelry, which I’d treasured. My gaming system and other things he could sell to buy his drugs.”

Hyett silently cursed.

“I went to bed that night, livid at my dad. I woke a few hours later to my bedroom filled with smoke. I couldn’t see anything, so I had to feel my way through the house while I screamed my dad’s name.”

He balled his fists in his lap.

“I tripped over one of the freeloaders. The guy pinned me under him, telling me he would save me. He was so goddamn high he didn’t even realize we were trapped in the same room with the fire.”

My dad shoved the guy off of me, but the man grabbed my ankle just as the ceiling collapsed. My leg was trapped, and the ceiling fell on my dad’s right side. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital.”

Hyett easily lifted Wesley and placed him on his lap. His mate held him as Wesley breathed out slowly, determined to keep his composure.

“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about that night. My doctor knows about my burns, but he doesn’t know the part Jackson played in it. When I next saw my dad, he was doped up with hospital pain killers. I sat at his bedside, still recovering myself, when he confessed he’d accidentally set some papers on fire but was too baked to put them out.”

Hyett’s arms tightened and he laid his cheek on Wesley’s head. “I don’t know what to say, babe. If I’m being honest, I don’t ever want you near your father again. He almost ended your life and then went into a debt with dealers, who threatened to kill you. Jackson has no regard for anyone but himself.”

Wesley pulled Hyett down for a kiss. One meant to make him forget and remind himself he was no longer in this alone.

His mate pressed his hands against Wesley’s head and deepened the kiss, telling Wesley without words he was there for him.

“I’ll just go through the back door,” Wesley said when they pulled apart. “There’s nothing in the living room I need anyway.”

“You let me know the moment it becomes too much for you.” Hyett still held Wesley’s head, making him look into smoky-gray eyes. “Promise me.”

Wesley nodded. “I promise.”

Ten minutes later, Wesley stood in his bedroom, embarrassed of the mess as his mate stood there with him.

Quinton stood guard in the front yard, Ryker in the back, and Killian walked through the house.

“It’s no big deal.” Hyett winked. “Glad I’m not the only one who leaves their cleaned clothes stacked on their bed and piles their dirty dishes.”

“I was running late for work,” Wesley lied. “What’s your excuse?”

“I was running late for life.” He chuckled. “I just really hate putting away clothes.”

“Fantastic. We’ll be living out of twice the piles in your bedroom.” Wesley checked his closet but didn’t see his backpack.

When did he last use it? Oh yeah. He’d tossed it in the closet by the front door. His heart began to hammer as he thought of walking in there.

“What is it, honey?” Hyett frowned at him. “Do we need to get some fresh air outside?”

“I just need my backpack from the living room closet,” Wesley said on a trembling breath.

He hated that Morton and Seth had made him fear his own home.

No. The blame was shared. Jackson had a hand in Wesley’s fear as well.

His father had a hand in a lot of Wesley’s fears even before the fire.

“Killian,” Hyett said in a normal voice from where he stood.

“Bathroom,” Killian hollered back.