Page 9 of Bear the Burden

He lay Wesley down on the couch and used the throw blanket draped over the back to cover his mate’s slim body.

“Don’t you think he’d panic even more if a stranger answered his son’s phone?” his dad asked.

He had a point. Hyett set the phone on the coffee table then took a seat on the couch, placing Wesley’s feet over his thighs.

“I’ll make sure no one disturbs the two of you while he gets some rest.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He rubbed gentle circles over his mate’s ankles.

“No problem.”

Hyett grabbed the remote and turned on the television as he waited for his mate to wake up.

Chapter Three

Wesley sighed, enjoying how good the massage on his calves felt. Someone was finally touching him, kneading the leg that had brought him nothing but misery.

As the strong yet gentle fingers worked his tense muscles and damaged nerves, Wesley wondered who those powerful hands belonged to.

Since the night of… Since then, there had always been a constant ache in his leg. Most days it was manageable. Other times, like earlier, he just wanted to die from the unbearable pain.

At that moment, he felt nothing. Not even a small twinge of discomfort. For the first time since he’d woken up in the hospital, Wesley felt as if his leg was normal.

And those fingers… So incredible. He never wanted them to stop. They made him feel whole again. He didn’t want the massage to end because Wesley was desperate to feel the touch of another person. He’d craved it for so long.

Maybe if he pretended to be still asleep, they would continue to touch him. If so, he might be able to convince himself he wasn’t a monster.

Wesley trapped a moan in his throat when the firm hands worked their way up to the back of his knee then kneaded their way down to the arch of his foot.

Where were his shoes? The question melted away as his skin turned into pliable dough, resulting in the best relaxation he’d ever experienced. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been out of it, but the rhythmic rotations of the deep tissue massage were lulling him back to sleep.

Just as he felt himself dozing, the sound of Jackson’s ringtone disrupted the quietness. The tune abruptly stopped, accompanied by a soft curse.

Dad! Wesley hadn’t taken the pills home, and he could only imagine the pain Jackson had to be in right now.

Shoving to his elbow, Wesley glanced around the unfamiliar room, and then his gaze landed on Hyett. The guy was on the other end of the couch, those smoky eyes watching him closely.

The gorgeous man Wesley had steadily pushed away, had been a complete asshole to, had just given him the most amazing pain-free moments since that horrific night.

Not even the massage therapist he’d seen six months ago had been able to achieve in an hour what Hyett had accomplished in just ten minutes.

“What am I doing at your house?” He assumed it was Hyett’s place.

“You passed out before you gave me your address.” His fingers flexed against Wesley’s legs. “I tried to get it from your boss, but you left that part of your paperwork blank.”

“It was an oversight.” Wesley wasn’t even sure why he’d purposely left it blank but was thankful he had. If Hyett had taken him home, the guy would’ve seen what Jackson was like without his pills.

An unhinged man with no brain-to-mouth filter. The most hateful words had been slung at Wesley more times than he could count when he hadn’t gotten them to his dad on time.

Despite knowing it was the pain that caused his father to spew such vile things at him, the words still cut him deeply. Maybe Wesley was wrong for buying pills for his dad, but it was better than the alternative.

When Jackson’s insurance stopped covering his pain meds, he’d found a guy he could get them from. But it was Wesley who paid for them and picked them up. Every time he entered Morton’s house, he felt like prey wandering into a den of snakes.

Wesley could never just grab and go. Morton didn’t want his neighbors to become suspicious, so the guy made him sit there for at least twenty minutes to make the visit seem legit.

They were the longest, most uncomfortable twenty minutes of Wesley’s life. He always sat there terrified the place would be raided. It made him feel like a straight-up criminal.

Before his deep dive into the sketchy underbelly of the drug world, Wesley had never done anything illegal. Now he was making freaking drug runs for his father.

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