Page 102 of Pit Stop

I wanted to give Skye space, wanted to let him live. There were so many times I wanted to drive to him, to talk, to hold him. To make love to him.

But I didn’t. He was clear about what he wanted. He let me know in his silent way.

And now he’s suffered for it. He’s ill. So fucking sick. When I saw him across the parking lot, I almost fell over.He’s here, I rejoiced. But then I realized he was not well. That he was falling. That he was breaking.

Maybe it’s the shifter inside of me, that hidden part that was given to me by my dad, that allowed me to heal more quickly. To persevere when Skye has succumbed. I don’t know. But it seems I’ve handled it better than he has.

I still ache. I hurt.

But I’m mostly okay.

I could rip Rob’s head from his shoulders for standing between me and Skye, for keeping him from me—from my mate, no matter what he’s called now. No matter what he is.

He’s mine.

Damn him for just showing up with Skye. My Skye-light.

Fuck, he’s so thin and frail, slowly falling apart. Much like how I feel at the moment. Much like I’ve felt for the past few weeks. I need to make sure he’s okay.

I hop on my motorcycle and shove the helmet on my head, racing down the road to catch up with Rob. I know where he’s headed. He blurted it out during his rampage, trying to protect his friend.

Fucking sidepiece. What the hell?

The guy I found on the side of the road is not someone I’m fucking. I just pulled over and gave him a ride so he could get a tow from one of the guys at the shop. I haven’t fucked anyone sincehim.

Sincehechose to break the bond.

My hand twists the accelerator, and the motorcycle picks up speed. Being near him still hurts, but it hurts more to be away from him.

To feel his absence in every corner of my chest.

I can see Rob’s car in the distance, and I go even faster. I refuse to be left out of this. I just…fuck, I just assumed he didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t call. Didn’t text. And when I tried to message, it didn’t go through.

I assumed he blocked me.

Fuck.

What if I had it all wrong?

I don’t have time to think about it as I follow them into the hospital parking lot and swing off my bike. Rob is shouting at me again, but I ignore him, knowing that I can help. That Ineedto help.

Skye looks terrible as he pushes the car door open. He looks so, so frail.

Like he’s been sick for weeks without help.

“I’ll take him,” I grunt as I move Rob out of the way and bend down to grab Skye from the front seat. It’s hard to do when he’s limp and Rob is kicking at my legs.

But I manage to get him into my arms. He’s lighter than he was when I was with him. Has he not been eating? Sleeping? Taking care of himself?

No, it seems he hasn’t.

We should never have broken that bond. I should have fought harder.

I should have fought for him.

But I didn’t want to tie him down. I didn’t want him to feel stuck with me.

“Let go of him,” Rob barks, but I ignore him, striding toward the doors.

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