We Found Love (4 page)

Riley blanched. “I… I….”

“Is that?”

“It’s—”

“It is. Isn’t it?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Chapter 3

H
UNTER
WAS
doing his best not to be a complete tool, but he was part curious, part stunned by the rather garish scars on his roommate’s arms. Looking closer, one could tell that the tattooed sleeve on the guy’s arm was also covering other scars. Were those small round spots cigarette burns? They didn’t look self-inflicted, but the story behind them couldn’t be pretty, regardless.

Hunter had seen scars before; even thinking about those overwhelmed him with agony. He couldn’t stop himself staring a bit too openly. He wasn’t doing it to be rude, but thinking someone had mistreated the beautiful man before him like so many had Cory was enough to suck the breath from him.

Cory.
Hunter’s chest tightened with misery as memories took him to a dark enough place that he had to sit on his bed, breathing deeply to fend off the ghosts. He hadn’t, however, averted his stare from Riley’s damaged skin, earning him a scowl. Riley crossed his arms over his chest, clearly attempting to hide the scarring. Hunter could tell Riley was pissed, but he looked painfully vulnerable.

“What the hell are you looking at?” Riley snapped.

Hunter flicked his eyes down to his lap, feeling like a jerk.
Way to make a good impression.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.

When Riley didn’t say anything, Hunter dared to look up again. His roommate’s expression had softened, mostly in his jaw, but his eyes had lightened too, like he was back in the hardest moment of his life.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Hunter said.

“S’okay,” Riley mumbled, rubbing his wrist again. “I don’t talk about it.”

Hunter had to resist the urge to snort. He’d not only used those words himself a million times over the last five years, but he’d heard it himself from….
Don’t think about him again.

“That makes two of us.”

Riley assessed Hunter with those disarming chocolate-brown eyes. They were almost catlike in their ability to pierce Hunter, seeming to look right into his soul and see his most wicked deeds. Hunter wasn’t sure he liked the thought that Riley could shake him up with just a searching gaze. He squirmed under the attention.

“For someone who doesn’t ‘talk about it,’ you sure were nosy,” Riley said frankly, a slightly arrogant mocking in his tone. He had obviously judged Hunter on first impression and found him wanting.

Hunter bristled, feeling his cheeks warm. He could beat his chest too. Fucking pipsqueak wasn’t going to be head dog here. Hunter worked with bigger, meaner sons of bitches in his brother’s garage. Some five-foot-eight little twerp wasn’t gonna intimidate him.

But again, he noticed the slight vulnerability in the man’s eyes when Hunter stood, pulling himself to his full five foot ten. Riley clearly wasn’t going to back down, but Hunter was sure he’d seen that small flash of fear, a moment of unguarded desperation not to be the weakling. Hunter felt his ire leave him immediately, righteous anger draining from his body, sad calm taking over. Someone had really done a number on this guy.

“You must get your ass beat a lot with that smartass mouth, man.” Hunter shook his head when Riley clenched his jaw, and Hunter advanced on him. Yeah, vulnerable or not, this guy was a fighter. Good on him.

“Don’t mistake my being short for being a punk.”

Hunter threw up his hands, trying to calm Riley’s need to fight. “I have no doubt you can handle yourself. You’re a scrappy fucker, huh?”

Riley didn’t seem mollified, but the situation was definitely getting less hostile with Riley taking a step back. “If you don’t fight for yourself, who will?”

Sadness tinted the words. Hunter wondered if anyone had ever fought for Riley other than himself. He suddenly seemed very young and alone. That depressed Hunter, and he had no idea why. No, Riley wasn’t anything like Cory. Everything that happened to Cory, he’d done to himself in one way or another. Riley seemed like he’d had shit handed to him. He really itched to know Riley’s story.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a nurse popped his head in the door. “You boys behaving?” The overbright, chipper smile on his chunky face made Hunter want to smack the guy.

With a grunt, Riley simply rolled his eyes. “You know me, Bobby. They call me Mary Sunshine. I’m the best welcoming committee ever.”

The Bobby person snorted. “Right. Six roommates in three months. You’re a regular peach, Riley.”

Six roommates in three months?

Riley’s expression turned mildly amused, but he never dropped his guard completely. “Someone’s gotta keep the boys in line.”

“Who’s keeping you in line?” Hunter asked. Riley snapped his head in his direction with a sneer.

Nurse Bobby laughed openly. “Sounds like you found one who won’t take your shit, Connors.”

Riley Connors.
Even the guy’s name was cute.

And that was the
last
thought Hunter needed to have. Yeah, this hell pit was the best place for developing crushes. That’d be a story for the proverbial grandkids.
So Gramps and Grampa met in the nuthouse….

Riley was still sneering at Hunter. Hunter felt a little thrill at being able to get under the little spitfire’s skin. It would at least be entertaining riling him up. And Hunter couldn’t lie, the guy was hot when he was brooding or scowling. Mad was a good look for him.

“Okay, boys,” Nurse Bobby said. “Before we start pissing on the furniture to mark our territories, it’s mealtime. Come to the common room.”

Riley gave one last baleful glance at Hunter before sauntering away. And even through the tacky scrub pants he was wearing, Hunter could see the swell of a pert, sexy ass.

Wrong time, wrong place, wrong fucking guy, Hunter.
His inner voice had never lied. A laugh pulled his attention back to Nurse Bobby, who was shaking his head. “You’re a glutton for punishment, new guy.”

What the hell? Had he been that obvious?

Nurse Bobby just laughed more, obviously catching Hunter’s discomfiture. “Come on. You’re gonna need your strength. You’re in luck too. Meat loaf tonight.”

Hunter looked at the nurse levelly. “Can’t wait.” He followed the cackling douche out of the room and down the bright, fluorescent-lit hallway into what must have been considered the common room. In there, several men lined up next to a metal cart that had been wheeled in, laden with Styrofoam containers. The smell of the food made Hunter’s stomach grumble. He hadn’t really eaten much of anything during his first few days. He’d spent more time retching and suffering from the effects of coming down from his binge.

His
binge
. Not a suicide attempt like they all thought. Fucking idiots. Maybe he needed rehab, but this shit? The crazy-people place? Fuck that.

He got in line and retrieved a plate of food that had his name written in black Sharpie on the lid. Thank goodness he didn’t seem to have anything fucked up, like some of the low-cholesterol and diabetes specialty trays he’d seen a couple of guys get. The food looked surprisingly like real food too. Thank goodness for that; he was famished.

He glanced around the large cinder-block-walled room at the uncomfortable-looking doctor’s-office armchairs and couches. There were a few tables, but all the guys seemed to know each other and had either cliqued off like in a high school cafeteria or sat far away from each other. One guy even hovered beside a potted plastic fig tree, humming to himself and spilling more food down his chin than he was actually eating.
Awesome.

He sought out his roommate, thinking even though the guy clearly wasn’t his biggest fan, it had to be better than fucking up and sitting next to someone he’d have to talk to, especially with the crazies in there. Which he was definitely not one of. Fuck his sister and her whole
This is what’s best; you’ve had a total breakdown
speech. Self-righteous bitch. What did she know?

“Yeah, fuck you too!”

Loud voices coming from the far side of the room drew Hunter’s attention. A much larger Hispanic guy was towering over a smaller man, but the smaller guy was in his face. They’d both slung their trays on the ground. Or maybe they’d gotten knocked to the ground? Who could tell with the way the two guys were cursing one another and….

Oh. Oh, shit. He knew that smaller guy. His idiot roommate was the one about to get his fucking face pounded in.
Jesus.

He momentarily considered not even getting involved, because he knew it probably wasn’t the first time Riley had been in this situation, and with that attitude, no way would this be the last.

If you don’t fight for yourself, who will?
Shit. Could he really be that guy who left Riley to get his ass beaten? He’d never been that guy before.

When he moved closer, he still couldn’t figure out why the hell they were fighting. But he saw that Riley’s immediate future was nothing but broken bones when they maneuvered just so and the larger guy had Riley pinned against the wall. He doubted anyone else realized it, not sure why he of all people did, but he saw the moment that Riley also figured out he’d bitten off more than he could chew. The slightest tells gave away Riley’s fear. Hunter didn’t have time to think on how he’d figured out the man so quickly. He just knew he had to act. And now.

The bigger guy’s fist was going in for the kill just as Hunter jumped in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Hunter moved between the guy and Riley, receiving a jab to his ribs for his trouble. He wanted to double over, but he’d been hit by stronger, bigger guys. And there was no way he was letting his roommate get pummeled by this behemoth.

“This shit don’t concern you, new guy!” Bigass Latino Crazy Pants snarled.

Riley shoved at Hunter’s back. “I don’t need your fucking help!”

Hunter turned a sardonic gaze on Riley. “Right. Because you’re doing so good over here.”

Riley’s jaw clenched, as did his fists. Hunter thought Riley might swing on him. He pleaded with Riley to just fucking stop. Hunter didn’t have the energy for this shit. His body was still achy, his heart still sore. He’d just wanted to help.
Please just chill, dude.

Riley’s jaw ticked again, those creepy eyes boring a hole straight into Hunter, searching, always searching for something. When Riley blinked, relaxing infinitesimally, Hunter almost breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten through.

“What’s going on in here?” a booming voice called out. The whole room fell silent as an orderly walked toward Hunter, Riley, and the Neanderthal. He was definitely all business, looking like Mr. Clean with an attitude problem. Hunter really didn’t want to go a round with this guy.

“I said, what’s going on?” The man’s voice was loud, deep, and unfriendly. “I’m not playin’ with you boys. Now, what’s the damage? Connors? Alvarez?”

Hunter was surprised when Riley spoke first. “Nothing, Jerry.”

Mr. Clean didn’t look pleased. “There never is with you, huh, Connors?” Riley seemed to have lost all his fight, though. Funny. Must just be when someone had his back up against a wall. Hunter could understand that, he supposed. But damn. His ribs were aching, and he just wanted to go lie down, since his meat loaf was now on the floor and he’d not be eating tonight.

“You boys finished, or do we need restraints?”

Hunter nodded, Alvarez gave an annoyed grunt before wandering off, and Riley stood still and quiet. Mr. Clean—formerly known as Jerry, apparently—gave a disgusted sigh. “Just get back to your room. I’ll get new trays sent down to you. I don’t wanna see your face back in here tonight, understood?”

“Yessir,” Hunter said. He didn’t intend to do anything other than sleep. Fuck this day, this week. Fuck the last six years of his life.

Riley seemed much more demure as he passed Hunter and headed down the hall. Hunter followed him silently, thinking a damn thank-you might be nice. But he’d admit to himself, not having to see Riley get pummeled was thanks enough.

Chapter 4