Page 8 of Bear the Burden

But he now knew how his mate had gotten those scars. Hyett had seen skin like this before.

Fire.

“You go there for lunch and bring back a mate. I’m gonna go get the brother you abandoned.” Ryker walked to his truck. “The next time you two have a spat, leave me out of it. He’s going to be a bitchy bear the entire ride home.”

“Tell him not to forget my damn food,” he hollered as Ryker pulled away. Cyrus would put it on Hyett’s tab, but Killian was paying for it if he ate it.

Turning back around, he gently pulled the fabric of Wesley’s slacks up a little higher, exposing more of the same thing. If you asked him, his mate had healed pretty damn nicely.

Except for his pain, making Hyett wonder if there had been nerve damage or something else. He knew shit about humans and this kind of thing, but he was going to find out. He would research everything he could about leg burns so he could be better prepared to help his mate.

Releasing Wesley’s pant leg, Hyett reclined the seat all the way back to make the guy more comfortable. Then he sat on the ground with his back to the car.

Moments later, his dad strode outside with the full kitchen trash bag. He glanced at Hyett, and then his gaze flickered to the car, but he kept going, disposing of the bag in one of the outside cans.

Hyett watched as his dad headed his way. He saw the moment Quinton noticed someone was in the passenger seat. “Do I need to get a shovel, son?”

Hyett chuckled.

“You’re laughing, but I’m serious.” He stopped a foot away and sniffed. “Human. He’s skinny too. Accidental kill?”

Quinton asked because the Everharts didn’t hurt anyone smaller than them, especially someone as thin and wiry as Wesley.

Hyett was tempted to see how far his dad would go with this. “And if it was?”

Okay, so he couldn’t resist.

His dad squatted in front of him. “We’ll take care of this. But first, tell me what happened.”

God, he loved his dad.

Wesley moaned and shifted in the seat a little. Quinton frowned then scowled. “I should beat your ass for making me think you killed him.”

“I should hug you for having my back.” Hyett grinned. “Dad, this is my mate, Wesley.”

Quinton stood and placed his hands on his hips, his expression once again confused. “Did you drug him to bring him home?”

“I’m taking that hug back. Jeez. Thanks for having so much confidence in me.” Hyett pushed to his feet and dusted off his backside, explaining to his father what happened at Papa’s.

“So why haven’t you brought your mate inside so he can get the rest he needs? I’m pretty sure the seat of a car isn’t doing his leg any favors.”

Hyett glanced at his mate curled up like a kitten. He reached over and pulled the back of his shirt down when he noticed it had risen to show a few inches of flawless skin. “I already kidnapped him. I don’t want him to freak out if he wakes up in my bed.”

Sober Wesley was a cat with claws, and Hyett didn’t want his mate rejecting him again.

“Then lay him on the couch,” his dad said. “Don’t make your mate sleep in a car.”

Hyett really might need a shovel because his mate was going to kill him when he woke up.

No sooner had Hyett pulled his mate out of the car than Wesley’s phone erupted with a parody of “Turn Down for What,” only the lyrics had been changed to “Pick Up for Dad.”

“Sounds like his father is calling him.” Quinton moved in front of Hyett and opened the back door of the house for him.

Hyett had his mate partially over his shoulder. “Should I answer it?”

“I wouldn’t.” Quinton walked in behind him.

“What if his dad heard about what happened? It would be pretty fucked up to leave him worrying.”

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