Page 23 of Bear the Burden

Hyett closed his eyes and cursed.

“I-I don’t want to die, Hyett.” Wesley somehow managed not to break down crying, although a few tears escaped.

“You’re not going to,” Hyett said to him with conviction.

He folded Wesley in his arms, his earthy, wild, masculine scent enveloping him. He sank into Hyett and closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time in a very long while.

But the moment didn’t last. Killian and Ryker walked in, wearing huge smiles. Killian was the largest of the three brothers, but Ryker was a close second. Wesley had to remind himself they were bear shifters because they appeared so human.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” Killian’s grin grew wider as he winked at Wesley.

Hyett growled.

“Like I told you before, he’s my brother-in-law,” Killian stated flatly. “I’m going to treat him just like one of us.”

“You keep making that sound like it’s a good thing,” Ryker grumbled.

Killian tossed his hands onto his hips. “Being an Everhart is a great thing, even though the Frosts argue they’re the best.” Killian turned to Wesley. “Tell me, would you rather be with a bear shifter”—Killian flexed his massive muscles, causing Wesley to laugh—“or be with a plain old wolf shifter?”

Just as Killian had said “plain,” Hyett was shouting for him to shut up.

“Did you just say wolf shifter?” Wesley’s smile faded. His gaze flicked between Hyett and Killian, trying to process what he’d just heard.

Ryker cuffed Killian on the back of his head. “Consider yourself lucky we’re in a hospital. You’ll only have to go down a few floors to the emergency department when Hyett gives you a beatdown worthy of a body cast.”

Wolf shifters. Okay. Wesley was going to put that little nugget on the backburner. Right now, he had other, more important issues to deal with than the existence of… Backburner. Right.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and then Quinton walked in. He glanced between his sons and gave an insufferable sigh. “Who did it, and what did they do?”

Hyett, Ryker, and Wesley pointed at Killian. Wesley didn’t really want to point the finger, but it felt nice being a part of something.

Quinton grabbed the other chair and pulled it close to the bed. Wesley honestly wondered if it would hold the man’s colossal weight.

“How are you feeling, Wes?” Quinton took a seat, unaware that Wesley had stiffened.

“He despises the shortened version of his name, Dad,” Hyett said firmly.

Wesley didn’t want things to become awkward. Truthfully, he was really starting to like this family. He might as well make his last week on earth matter.

Picking at the edge of the sheet draped over him, he cleared his throat while keeping his eyes averted. “My dad used to call me that name when he was spewing vile and hateful things at me during his withdrawals.”

Wesley might as well call it what it truly was instead of telling himself his dad just needed his pills or the pain was making him that way.

It was drug withdrawal.

He still deeply loved his dad, and it hurt his heart to see him this way, but Wesley was still filled with fury and relief. Fury for causing this entire situation and relief that he’d told someone just how miserable his life truly was.

But most of all, Wesley was disappointed to know his dad had been out partying and racking up debt, while his son watched every penny just to make sure he had enough money to pay a drug dealer so his father wouldn’t be in pain.

Wesley felt like a complete and utter fool.

And now he’d been pulled into Jackson’s mess, and no matter Hyett’s good intentions, Wesley couldn’t stay in hiding forever. What was he going to do, shack up with a bunch of bear shifters?

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Quinton said. “Hearing your own name shouldn’t cause such a strong reaction.”

Hyett curled Wesley into his arms again, and although it felt wonderful, Wesley had to pull himself together. He wasn’t a wallower. He was… He honestly didn’t know anymore.

For too long he’d just been stuck.

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