Page 35 of Wedding Wrecker

“I knew the town where you live, and you said you worked in stables, so I figured I could find you like this, because you forgot to give me your number,” he explains and lifts my leg to relieve some of the pressure in my unnaturally twisted ankle.

‘Forgot’. On purpose. Is he this clueless or being sarcastic?

“Fuck!” I have to exhale to keep from screaming out, and I grab his arm despite wanting him to leave. “You can’t just show up where I work out of the blue,” I say through clenched teeth. What is this? A modern version of Misery? Will he take me to some cabin where he can ride my dick every day while keeping me chained to the bed?

The vision only makes me think of his round ass, and I guess that’s some respite for my overzealous nervous system.

Kyle licks his lips and strokes my thigh in a calming gesture. “I know, but I couldn’t ask anyone from your side of the family for your number. This is the third place I’ve been to in the area already, but I’ve told them I’m just looking for an old classmate. It’s all good.”

It wasn’t ‘all good’. It wasn’t good at all.

I stare into his big brown eyes, so honest on his wholesomely handsome face and I realize he has no idea what he’s doing.

“I need to… go,” I mutter, dizzy, but when I try to get up, using him as leverage, he holds me down.

“No, no, Logan, you can’t move this leg,” he says.

I’m out of breath and overheating. Sweat makes my T-shirt cling to my back, but when I stare at Brisket, he just snorts. No help coming from him.

“Logan! Don’t move!” Hassan yells from afar, running our way with a first aid kit. He might have a bit of a pot belly and gray hair in his beard, but right now he’s sprinting like a cheetah.

Fuck my life.

Scooting next to me, Hassan lets out a clicking sound as he rolls up the leg of my jeans. His face twists into a scowl.

“I saw it happen. The ladder just fell, hit the balustrade, and he fell on this leg,” Kyle says, petting my back as if he were my best friend attempting to comfort me. I would be way more comfortable if he wasn’t here.

Hassan shakes his head. “We need to remove your boot.”

It does feel tight around my flesh, but when Hassan tugs, pain explodes all over me, and before I know what’s going on, I’m resting on Kyle, and he’s hugging me.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you to a doctor.”

“I’m fine!” I say even though what I mean is ‘I don’t need your help’, because my leg is obviously and definitely the opposite of fine.

Hassan scowls at me, pressing on my swollen ankle. “I think it’s broken, Logan. Let’s get you to the hospital. Are you here by car…?”

“I'm Kyle. Yes, yes, I’ve got a car, I’ll take him,” he says as if I have no say in the matter.

As much as I hate being the object of this conversation instead of a participant, my ankle hurts like a bitch, and I’m not about to sit here and pretend I can drive myself.

I look down, and see that my ankle seems to have swelled to twice its size over a foot that should be pointing in a different direction. Nausea grips my throat, and Hassan snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Don’t look at it. Come on, we’ll get you into the car,” he says and pushes his shoulder under one of my arms while Kyle does the same on the other side. My world spins as they lift me, and while I attempt to help them by jumping on my good leg, it’s obvious that if it wasn’t for them, I’d still be crying out in pain on the floor.

I’m the kind of guy who helps others in need, not the other way around, but the lapse of judgment has left me vulnerable to the very man I tried to run from. I hate it, but I have to admit that while Kyle is smaller than me, he is strong, and his grip feels solid. On the other side, Hassan is panting with effort while Kyle holds my weight with ease, making me feel secure.

The dusty ground passes under me as I sweat into my clothes, gripping to the here and now, because I desperately need to remain conscious, but when I hear loud, snappy sounds, I fear I might be losing it.

When we approach a dark blue car, and I spot the colorful face of Kyle’s dog in its half-open window the source of the barking becomes obvious.

“Okay, let’s get you in,” Kyle says and opens the door.

“Talk to him, make sure he’s distracted,” Hassan advises, and I fear Kyle will have no trouble with that.

Chapter 14

Logan

Jekyll stares back at me from the passenger seat. He’s already greeted me by pushing his nose right under my ass, but it’s not enough for the cuddly beast. If Kyle didn’t tell him to stay put, he’d be walking all over me and my injured leg, which rests on the back sofa, where I sit, to avoid further swelling.