Page 17 of Free Me

“I will. Say hello to your folks for me.”

“Sure.”

Miko escaped in the opposite direction Gaven was headed and made tracks toward the main west entrance, where he was most likely to find a taxi. There were usually a few lined up in the circle during the day, waiting for discharged patients or car-less visitors. His stomach rolled at the familiar yellow-and-blackvehicles, and he took several steps backward. Away. The last time he’d ridden in a taxi…nope. Not tonight.

He kind of wanted to avoid the bus, because now that he’d had his first heat, his scent had changed. The last thing he needed was to draw the attention of an interested, unmated alpha while he was distracted with grief and confusion. He also didn’t want to disturb Mikel for a ride, so he sucked up whatever courage he had and walked over to the bus stop. Waited.

Once he was in the back of the next available bus to his side of town, he checked the missed text.

Dad:Isa went into ICU and hasn’t come out. Where are you? What happened?

Guilt pitted his stomach. Miko replied:Safe, heading home. Don’t want to talk right now.

Thirty seconds later:Did you get your answer?

Yes. Talk later.

Okay. Love you.

Miko put his phone away. Leaving Dad hanging on the question of whether or not Linus was his bondmate was borderline cruel, but he couldn’t tell him in text. Hell, when Peyton had sprung similar news on their parents, he and Layne had cooked up an entire extended-family dinner to announce they were dating, in love and having a baby. Miko wasn’t about to make a grand gesture like that, but he could at least say it to his parents in person.

Which was why he got off the bus in front of Perks, instead of at home. A familiar white-walled, wide-windowed bakery and café his parents had owned for most of Miko’s life. He’d grown up within those walls, crawling under tables, stealing tastes of unbaked batter, and deciding at the grand old age of five that he hated coffee forever (that didn’t last).

Warm, coffee-scented air greeted him as soon as he opened the door. It was mid-morning so not as crazy-busy as it wouldbe during peak breakfast and lunch hours. A few tables had patrons. Symon Lee, their baker, was putting a tray of freshly-baked something into the glass display case. Omi was wiping down a table nearest the door, and he glanced up, lips poised as if to greet a new customer.

“Miko, what are you doing here?” Omi asked, hand tightening around his dishrag. “Is Linus awake?”

“Not yet.” Not that he knew of, because he’d run from the situation. “I need to talk to you.”

“Of course. Symon can watch the register for a little while. Come on.” Omi grabbed his sanitizer spray bottle and led Miko through a pair of swinging double doors to the kitchen. More heat hit Miko in the face, as did the familiar scents of yeast, cinnamon and sugar. Past the kitchen and industrial ovens was a small office overrun with business paperwork and collages of family photos.

“We spend sixty hours a week of our lives here,” Dad had once said of the photos, “so we need to keep our loved ones close while we’re away from them.”

For some reason, Miko found all those prying eyes oppressive today.

Once Omi directed him into a folding chair, he brought the rolling desk chair around to face him. “Your dad texted me a while ago and said they were reducing Linus’s sedation so he could wake up.”

“Yeah, they did that. I wanted to see him before he woke up. Dad talked to Isa, and he convinced Liam to let me go in.”

Omi’s mouth twitched, as if he wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. “Okay. So you saw Linus? I bet that was upsetting.”

“It was, but I was also relieved to finally see him with my own eyes, you know?” Tears tightened his throat and burned the backs of his eyes. “I’ve never seen him so still. It was like looking at a photograph of him, not really him.”

“I know, baby. I felt that way when Peyton was in his coma. He’d gone from energetic and optimistic about the treatment protocol to a copy of the boy he’d been. We were all so scared then, but he got through it.”

“He did. And I was scared with Peyton, too, but it’s different with Linus.”

“Because you were in the accident with him and feel responsible?”

“That’s half of it.” That guilt had a stranglehold on his heart and wasn’t letting go anytime soon. “I needed to see Linus before he woke up to know if I should stay away from him while he recovers or not.”

Omi’s eyebrows scrunched. “What? Why would you even question that?” His confusion shifted into suspicion. “Did you remember something about the party? Did something happen between you two because of your heat symptoms?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“If Linus did something?—”

“Omi, no.” Miko clasped his omegin’s wrist in a firm hold, loving him for his protectiveness, but he needed to get this out before he exploded. “He didn’t do anything except take care of me. I did start to remember some stuff more clearly today, but it was all amazing stuff. Dancing with Linus and feeling so close to him, attracted to him, and we were alone in a bedroom, and we almost kissed before he realized I was going into heat, and he was so amazing getting me out of that house safely. But there was no time to talk about anything before that other car hit us.”

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