Page 173 of California Wild

The guy had gone for his pockets—his phone, his keys, his wallet. Everything.

But Jesse had fought back. Hard.

He wasn’t an easy mark, even half out of it, even caught off guard. He’d gotten his hits in, landed solid blows, enough to make the bastard run instead of finishing the job.

But it had been close.

Too close.

His breath came hard and uneven as he planted a hand against the brick wall, pushing himself up, every muscle in his body screaming.

Move.

No cops. No hospitals. No more fucking complications.

Just get up. Get moving.

A shuffle of movement echoed in the alley, a presence lingering just beyond his blurred periphery.

Jesse tensed. His hands curled into loose fists, instinct bracing for another attack.

Instead, a familiar voice rasped through the dark.

“Easy there, brother.”

Jesse’s head snapped toward the sound, his vision slowly adjusting—to Paul.

The old vet.

A man who had lost everything years ago but still walked the streets like he had some kind of purpose. The only guy in this whole damn city Jesse could trust to keep his mouth shut.

Paul crouched beside him, his sharp, weathered face set in something between concern and amusement.

“Didn’t take you for the kind to get rolled by a junkie,” Paul muttered, pulling something from the pocket of his ragged military jacket. “Looks like I misjudged.”

Jesse let out a short, pained laugh. “Yeah, well. Surprise.”

Paul shook his head and tossed a dirty bandana at him. “You’re lucky I came by when I did. That bastard was gonna take the boots off your damn feet.”

Jesse huffed, pressing the makeshift cloth against his side, watching as Paul’s gaze flickered over him, assessing the damage like an old war medic.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Paul muttered. “But you gotta get that cleaned up. Last thing you need is infection.”

Jesse grunted, shifting his weight until he was steady enough to stay upright. “I’ll handle it.”

Paul snorted. “Yeah? You look like you can barely stand.”

Jesse shot him a tired smirk. “Good thing looks are deceiving.”

Paul watched him for a beat, eyes narrowing before he let out a sigh. “Someone at home to help you?”

Jesse swallowed, his throat tight. “Yeah.”

Paul nodded, like that was all the answer he needed. He stepped back, giving Jesse space.

“Then get the hell out of here.”

Jesse shoved the bloodied bandana against his side, bracing himself as he pushed forward.

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