The elevator dinged, and Beau nearly cried out in relief. A tall, fit blond man in his forties poured from the lift, followed by Beau’s guards, who were all laden with supplies. Beau moved aside, letting Dr. Fowler do his job.
“You must be Kylo.”
Kylo opened his eyes at Dr. Fowler’s words. “Hi. Yeah. Sorry to pull you away from whatever.”
Beau shook his head.
Dr. Fowler chuckled. It was a deep yet soft sound. “It’s my job. I’m Dr. Fowler. You can call me Austen, if that makes you more comfortable. I need to take a look at your wound.”
Kylo nodded and closed his eyes again, as if the motion was too much.
Austen lifted the towel.
Beau eyed him, searching for any sign he made the pain worse than it already was.
“This might sound like a weird request, but I promise I have a good reason. Is it okay if we take off your shoes?”
“Of course. Do whatever you need.”
Fuck. He sounded bad.
Austen carefully took off Kylo’s shoe, as if anticipating exactly what happened. Blood poured out. He straightened and immediately set to work. Beau got out of the way and watched from across the room. Austen had Mickey and Rico in surgical gloves and helping. He started an IV while Mickey hung a bag of blood from the IV pole he had just pieced together. Austen pulled a shot from his pocket and stuck it in the IV line. “I’m just injecting a little saline first, so you’ll feel a little rush of cold.” He did that, then immediately pulled a second shot from the pocket of his doctor’s coat. “This one is for pain. It’ll send heat through your veins, but you should feel relief almost immediately.”
From there, Austen was on his knees, tearing into more things from his pockets. “First, I’ll deaden the skin, but it won’t help completely with the numbing until after a few sticks. Sorry about that, but I need to feel around for damage, and I don’t want you to feel that any more than you have to.”
Kylo never responded.
That had Beau moving to where Kylo’s head rested on the end of the couch. He kneeled and swiped his fingers through Kylo’s hair. It was so light but also obviously his natural color.
Kylo reached up and grabbed his hand.
Beau’s throat swelled. Kylo was incredibly tough and brave. He felt Kylo’s grip loosen, and his hand slipped away.
Beau’s panicked gaze shot to Austen. “Good. He’s passed out. He did not want to be awake for this.” Austen stuck his fingers inside the wound and felt around. His light blue eyes looked completely focused on his work.
Henry touched Beau’s shoulder, pulling his attention away. He held out a phone. “You should see this.”
Reluctantly, Beau stood and accepted the device. A video was cued up. Beau tapped the screen, starting it. It was security footage from the store. Beau didn’t ask how he got it. His men were the best. He watched as what looked to be a homeless man jumped Kylo. In one swift move, Kylo had the guy flipped over his shoulder and on the ground. Unfortunately, drug-fueled ragewas real. He had seen it with Tabitha a million times. The guy was immediately back on his feet. He lunged at Kylo, stabbing him. Beau winced. No doubt that was a disgusting knife. Kylo’s hand shot out. He used the lower part of his palm, exactly like someone trained would, driving it straight into the guy’s nose. Without missing a beat, his knee landed in the guy’s gut. He used the momentum to throw him to the ground. Kylo stepped over him and went inside the store as if nothing had happened.
Beau shook his head. “This guy.”
Henry chuckled. “Right? What the fuck?” The pride-filled laugh matched the feeling in Beau’s chest. Kylo was one tough cookie.
“I need more light.”
At his pronouncement, everyone scrambled, looking for anything that could be used. Henry rolled his eyes, turned on the flashlight on his phone, and moved to hold it over Austen’s shoulder like a kid helping his dad work on a car.
Despite everything, Beau smiled. Kylo would be fine. He was obviously one tough Little. Plus, Beau was here. He would make sure Kylo got whatever he needed. Kylo had once saved his sanity. Beau owed him for that. He paid his debts.
The cotton mouth was new. Kylo usually was pretty good at staying hydrated. He didn’t drink, but he imagined this was what a hangover felt like. His eyelids didn’t want to lift. He felt weird—like overly exhausted and weak. Kylo didn’t get sick often. This felt like the flu. He forced his eyes to open. His gaze slid around the room. He was in bed. An IV bag hung over his head. Red liquid headed toward his arm. Oh yeah. The homeless guy. How exhausting.
He peered over the edge of the bed. Yep. The IV pole had wheels. He needed to pee and then find out if the handsome doctor was still here. Kylo hated the thought of having to remove an IV alone. He sat up, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream at the tearing sensation in his gut. He wore his mouse pajamas. Kylo didn’t remember changing clothes. Carefully, he padded to the bathroom. He winced when he flipped on the light and caught a glimpse of his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes. Poor Beau. He always showed up when Kylo was at his worst. The first time they met, Kylo had been having a bit of a meltdown. This wasn’t much better.
Kylo ran through the usual morning routine of emptying his bladder, washing his hands, and brushing his teeth. He didn’t know if it was morning or night. The familiar routine helped him feel a little more human. As he slowly made his way from the bedroom, he was engulfed in total darkness. That was pretty parfor course for his bedroom. He kept the blackout curtains drawn, but he never turned off his kitchen light. Kylo couldn’t see shit.
He carefully shuffled his way to the kitchen, trying not to trip over anything or run his IV pole into anything.
“Why are you up?”