We Found Love (11 page)

Hunter felt his eyebrow go up when the guy looked his way and wagged like a fucking happy dog. A big dumb happy dog. His blond hair and large brown eyes made Hunter immediately think of a not-so-smart golden retriever named Bubba he’d had when he was a kid. Bubba had some sort of brain damage, but he was harmless. Even if he pissed everywhere for any reason.

“What’s up? Know how I can get these dickheads off me?” he asked, even as the orderlies shuffled him by Hunter. He kept his gaze trained on Hunter, though, eyes bright and joking.

“Just don’t kick. They pull out restraints,” Hunter replied. He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t seen a sincerely smiling face, head case or not, other than Riley’s in days. Riley’s was different, heart stopping. Riley’s the guy you fall for.
Fall for?

Bubba there, though, he was the kind of guy he’d go grab a beer with, bro hug, then laugh at his dumb ass. Until that energy got too exhausting. Then he’d probably not call him for a week, because that kinda friend could only be taken in small doses.

“What’d I tell you about encouraging these hellions?” someone asked on the other side of Hunter. When he searched for the speaker, he found the older orderly who’d said the same words when he teased Riley back for the first time. Jerry, he thought, might be the guy’s name.

“What can I say? I’m an enabler.”

Jerry smiled and patted him on the shoulder before walking by him. “I think there’s a group for that. I’ll sign you up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Hunter yelled at the man’s retreating back, getting only a laugh in return.

“Bastard,” he grumbled, but his mood was lighter than it’d been in days. After the night before with Riley and laughing a little today, he may even be able to get through the bullshit DT’s. Thank God he had only puked once this morning, but he’d kept his breakfast down, and the shaking in his hands and shoulders had gone from crippling to just annoying. He’d never gotten that far in any of his other rehab programs, never gotten past the point where the tremors made him check out AMA and go get fucked up.

Of course they’d made him stay this time. Otherwise he might have done the same thing. Damn suicide hold. Damn his sister and her big mouth. He wondered what his brother had to say about it all. He hadn’t come once when Hunter was in the hospital, but that wasn’t surprising. His brother was his boss and had said more than once he was sick of Hunter’s shit, even when Hunter had showed up to work on time. He’d been the one who had to bail Hunter out of jail, who’d got him in the trade program that was supposed to double for rehab. Hunter learned auto repair, but he drank through the whole program.

Maybe Travis had finally washed his hands of his baby brother. Hunter closed his eyes, as if that would block the thought.

No.
He wasn’t going to think about any of that now. He was in a good mood. Only…. What the fuck was he going to do with it? Not like he talked to anyone other than Riley. He wasn’t even sure if some of the guys were capable of speech, since they all seemed to be quiet more often than not, unless they had some weird involuntary noise they made 24/7.

He didn’t want to sit in the room without Riley. He’d just think about their night and get hard, and no way was he beating off while an orderly may walk in.
Fuck that.
So he settled for the boring-ass common room. There weren’t as many guys milling about the room as usual, only the guy who liked hiding behind the plants to mumble and a couple of guys quietly playing checkers at one of the tables.

He wandered over to the bookshelf, to find only Riley’s copy of
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
. It felt rude, almost disrespectful toward his friend, to disturb the book. What if he lost Riley’s place? No, he’d go with one of the umpteen copies of
National Geographic
. It took him forever to find one that looked relatively interesting, let alone one that still had all its pages. He eased down into one of the chairs at a free table. He couldn’t sit by Riley’s window. It wouldn’t be the same. He wondered how long his session would take. He hadn’t had one with his personal psychiatrist, so he didn’t know whether it was an all-afternoon affair or brief. Not that he was eager to find out for himself.

He opened the magazine and zoned out on it for a while. He felt like only ten minutes or so passed, but the calling for lunch in the halls told him he’d actually been at it for more than an hour. Within minutes, a nurse with a hairnet rolled in the metal cart covered in Styrofoam food trays. Hunter didn’t even rush to get in line, since the only time any of the other guys seemed to actually have any get-up-and-go was when they ran for the food.

After he’d finally gotten his food, he went back to his table, which was blessedly still unoccupied, as most of the other guys had gone to couches or to sit with the checkers players. As he took his seat and opened the container to study its contents—a dry-looking hamburger with no condiments, yay—he heard the booming voice of the orderly who’d broken up Riley and Big Hispanic Guy’s fight.

“You gonna behave, or I gotta stand in here over you, Willby?” He was holding Bubba the Newbie by the arm.

“You got it, Big Boy,” Bubba said, saluting the orderly. The orderly grunted and released his arm, telling him to go get his tray and shut up.

After Bubba had retrieved his food, he spotted Hunter and gave a smartass smile. Hunter just shook his head, already feeling amused exasperation as the guy strutted his way. “Yo, you helped me stay out of restraints.”

“Did I now?”

“I was just about to start kicking when you told me to calm my tits.”

Hunter laughed. “That’s me. Jiminy Fucking Cricket.”

“Well, Jiminy, this seat taken?” He didn’t wait for a response before plopping down in the chair directly across from Hunter at the table.

“By all means, Bubba.”

“It’s Shane, actually.”

“Like I said, Bubba.”

Bubba laughed, a loud belly laugh that was totally out of place in the cold, sterile halls of the hospital. “I like you, Jim.”

“It’s Hunter.”

He gave Hunter a pointed look, still smiling. “Like I said, Jim, formerly known as Jiminy Fucking Cricket. So what you in for?” He was drumming his hands on the table, eyes starting to dart around the room, not nervously but unable to focus on one thing.

Avoiding the question, Hunter said, “I didn’t know they locked people up for ADHD.”

Bubba snorted, giving Hunter a smirk. “Manic, buddy. I got a little bipolar problem.”

“A little one?”

“Well, more a problem staying on the meds.”

“So you like being all… hyped up?” Hunter wanted to laugh when Bubba turned his head sideways, confusion like that of the big dumb dog he was crossing his face.

“Of course. Who wants to be a pill zombie?”

“Never bothered me all that much.”

“Ah. A D and A boy?”

“Among other things, apparently,” Hunter said vaguely, taking a bite of his hamburger. Bubba snorted and sped up his drumming on the table, almost banging.

Hunter stared irritably at the quickly moving hands until they stopped. Bubba smirked, which seemed to be one of his favorite expressions. “Sorry. Gotta get it out somehow.”

“You sure you don’t want to take those meds?”
Please. Oh, my God.
The energy was fun, but Hunter hated banging and tapping. It made him twitch. If Bubba was going to be doing it all the time, like Humming Man, he wasn’t sure he’d make it without throwing shit at him all the time.

Bubba just laughed, though. “I like you, Jim.”

“It’s my lucky day,” Hunter said drily, earning another guffaw from Bubba. Okay, so the guy was all right. In a hyperactive, straight jock kinda way.

“Hey.” Bubba’s head tilted in that confused way again. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Hunter’s head snapped back. No, surely not. He’d remember someone this excitable. Certainly he’d remember someone, even a straight boy, who looked like that. “I don’t think so.”

Bubba drummed his fingers—on his chin this time, thankfully—thinking so hard it looked like smoke would come out of his poor ears at some point.

“Don’t overdo it, man. I can hear rusty bolts trying to break in there.”

Bubba’s eyes widened before he snapped his fingers and pointed, bouncing in his seat. “Dude! Hunter Morgan?”

Hunter eyed Bubba warily. “Uh, yeah.”

“Dude!” He said it louder than he needed.

“Calm down, man,” Hunter hissed. “You’re gonna get us both sent to our rooms.”

Bubba settled… as much as he could, anyway. “You’re Travis Morgan’s little brother.”

Hunter frowned. “How….”

“You fixed my Camaro last summer. Did a damn good job.”

“Oh. Did we meet?”

“Yeah, man. You were blitzed. Your brother looked pissed. I graduated with him, though, so when he promised you did good work I threw the work your way. You rocked it hard. That baby hasn’t run that well since I’ve owned it.”

“Oh.” Hunter blushed. He knew he’d learned his shit, though he had been an ass about working at his brother’s shop at first. He’d never been complimented, though. He smiled at Bubba. “Glad it worked out.”

“No shit. Small world, huh?”

“No doubt,” Hunter said on a snorted laugh.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught Hunter’s attention. Riley stood in the doorway with his tray of food, glaring daggers at Hunter and his companion. Hunter kept smiling, waving at Riley. Riley scowled, passed his food to the old guy he usually played checkers with, and walked over to his chair by the window. Without a second glance at Hunter, he shoved Hunter’s chair back to where it belonged, by the couch, and plopped down in his own with his book.
What the fuck?

“Huh, I think I’ll call him Sunshine.”

Hunter turned back to Bubba, who’d apparently amused himself. “Say it to his face at your own risk, Bubba.”

“Oh, Jim. A challenge? I love those.”

Hunter glanced back at Riley, who sat solitary, alone, and scowling as he read his book. “It’s your funeral.”
Maybe mine too.

Chapter 11

I
T
WASN
’
T
bad enough Riley had been verbally reamed by Dr. Landers, but to come back and find his only friend in that hellhole—a guy he’d trusted enough to share Andy’s secret with—getting cozy with the hot new guy… well,
sunny
didn’t exactly work in reference to Riley’s disposition.

Yeah, well, the whole lot of them could fuck right the fuck off. Dr. Landers. New Guy…. Hunter.

Oh, but you don’t mean that. Do you?

He slumped farther down in his seat, bringing the open book all the way up to his face. As a kid, Mimi had chastised him about reading like that, said holding a book that close to his eyes would make him go blind. He wasn’t really reading, though, more trying to hide the pissed-off mug he was rocking right now. And to think, all he’d wanted to do the entire time he was in Dr. Landers’s office was find Hunter and disappear. Maybe make plans for a second date, but noooooo.

He peeked over the edge of his book, just because curiosity wouldn’t let him mind his own business. For some ungodly reason, Riley wanted to know what was going down between his man and the new guy.
His man.
Riley snorted.

“Connors,” Jerry the orderly said, snapping Riley’s attention away from Hunter and the new guy. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, what with the sunlight pouring in from behind Jerry’s massive frame. “Time for group.”

“Again? Fuck. I’m tired of talking to people.”

“Sorry, kiddo. You gotta go. Rules are rules.”

“Right.”

Riley pushed up from his lonely seat in the corner, dropped his book facedown in the chair. Everyone knew that was his space and his book, and no one really screwed with his stuff, so he didn’t have a problem leaving it there.

“You too, Morgan,” Jerry said as he passed by Hunter’s table.

Riley did his damnedest to keep his eyes straight ahead. He couldn’t look at Hunter right now, not without wanting to go the fuck off, then rip New Guy to shreds. And they said he didn’t have any impulse control.
Pft.

“Catch ya later, Jim,” the new guy said, holding up two fingers in Hunter’s direction.

“You too, Bubba.”

Bubba? Jim? What the hell?

They were guided into the same small room as before, same chairs but different characters. The doctor was someone Riley couldn’t look directly at. Something weird about his mouth made Riley twitch. Every time the dude spoke, his lips and jaw moved side to side, not up and down like normal people. That
really
got under Riley’s skin.

So he kept his stare on the floor like normal. He sure as hell couldn’t look at Hunter right now, not without feeling utterly betrayed and cast aside for some newer, hotter version of crazy. Maybe Hunter was the kind of person who needed to feel like he could save people or some shit. Sure would explain what happened last night, the way he’d taken care of Riley, been so kind and caring and actually made Riley feel good for a change. Maybe since he’d sorta saved one soul it was time to save another.