Heart's Redemption (MxM)

Chapter 1 ~ Ian

[Author's note: This story is a spin-off of Heart's Blood. It's a stand-alone, but if you want to understand some of the characters' background, you should read Heart's Blood first. 😉]

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My nachos are cold.

Cold nachos suck.

They weren't served cold. Actually, they'd looked delicious when the waitress set them in front of me, winking and bending low to give me a nice, if unwanted, view of her impressive breasts.

They're cold now because I got distracted and forgot to eat them.

I'd spent the day on the road, driving north towards Alaska, and I was tired and hungry, and just about at the end of my rope. When I'd seen the little motel and diner beside the road I'd felt relieved. I could always spend the night as a bear to keep warm, but nothing beats a real bed—even a bed in a seedy motel.

After I'd paid for the room, I crossed the little parking lot and settled at the bar in the diner. There were a handful of other people there too, locals by the looks of it; rough folk who offered hard stares by way of welcome.

I ignored them. With the way I look, nobody who isn't in the business of trouble will bother me.

When I lost my dad, I'd lost my appetite too, and consequently, a lot of weight. My frame is still big, though, and I've started to gain the muscle back as the pain fades.

After everything that had happened, I'd needed a clean start. So I'd shaved my face and left my past behind.

Literally.

Over the last few weeks, I've been slowly making my way north, headed for Alaska and a clan of Shifters I hope can help me find some answers—maybe even help me find a way to do some good in this world.

It's what I want—more than anything.

Problem is, I'm not a good man.

Gradually, I'd let my beard grow back, though I keep it short and neat, and I keep my thick red hair the same. I look almost respectable, and I act that way too. I allow myself a beer now and then, but I haven't been drunk in a long time.

Anyway, the past is harder to leave behind than you think.

The waitress had just brought me my food when my phone buzzed and—fool that I am—I'd pulled it out to see why.

It was a text from my cousin, Chloe, letting me know everything was fine back home. Only she'd included a picture, and I'd spent the next fifteen minutes with my eyes glued to the screen.

In the background, my dad's old house, where I'd grown up. In the foreground, Chloe and her girlfriend, side by side. Next to them stood two others I recognized—the Hunter siblings, Noah and Freya. But it was the man at the at left-most edge of the frame that made my food go cold.

Julian Hart.

I'd loved him. Then I'd hurt him. Now he was with someone else.

He was happy, and I was happy for him; but I still feel those barbs in my chest every time I see his face. By the time I shake myself free, I'm stiff from holding so still for so long, and my nachos are cold.

Like I said: cold nachos suck.

"Problem with the food, hun?" the waitress asks, leaning over the bar to refill my glass of water.

"Uh, no. It's fine. I'm just not that hungry, I guess."

"You sure? I'll get you something else if you want." The way she says it makes me think she's offering a different kind of meal.

"No, thanks. Just the check, please."

She shrugs but brings it. I pay and rise to leave. I'm just turning towards the door when something collides with my chest. I feel hands clutching at the back of my jacket, and a shiver of breath against my shirt.

I look down, startled, and a pair of black eyes look up at me from a pale face.

They belong to a boy. He might be twenty-one if I'm being generous, but he looks closer to seventeen. He gazes up at me, dark eyes wide and pink lips slightly parted.

"Uh..." I say.

I'm not known for my quick thinking, after all.

"Hey, do me a favor okay?" the boy says. "Tell these assholes I belong to you."

"What assholes?" I ask, confused.

"The ones who will bust through the door in three...two...one..."

Right on cue, the door flies open and a pair of men enter. They look about as fit and sharp as I once did, before grief wore away my edges and made me a little softer.

Their gazes lock on the boy still clinging to me like a desperate barnacle, and they cross the floor of the small diner in three quick strides, pulling him off me and throwing him to the floor.

"What the fuck, Sam?" the shorter of the two asks. His skin is medium-dark, and his bleached-blond hair stands up in spikes. "You can't just run off like that."

"I didn't run off!" the boy objects quickly. "I'm working! I swear!"

"Yeah, way out here? You think you'll find someone who wants your services in this dump? You're not a truck-stop whore, Sam."

"Fuck you, Pax!" the boy spits, scrambling to his feet and moving so his back is pressed against my chest. "Besides, he already paid. You want Karin to take it out of your pay?"

They look at each other, each seeming to hope that the other will give way, but eventually the larger man relents. He raises dark eyes and meets mine.

"Is that true?" he asks. "Did you pay?"

I swallow hard, feeling like I'm about to throw myself off a cliff of unknown heights. I have no idea what's going on, but I can tell that this kid is in trouble and that he might need my help. I straighten my spine, loop my arm around his chest, and pull him against me, doing my best to look like as much of a dick-wad as I'm sure these guys think I am.

"Yeah," I say. "He's all mine."