Buck was talking some bullshit about how Miguel had back pay and injury insurance. Miguel could not be bothered to listen. He couldn’t begin to wrap his head around the medical bill he was going to be paying off for the next decade, so he decided not to think about it. He was also not thinking about Nate Richardson.

“Would you listen? I’m not kidding. I signed us all up a few years ago.”

“I don’t remember.” The two of them were in Buck’s living room, Miguel camped out on the couch while Buck lingered by the kitchen door with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“I may have forged your signature.”

Miguel squinted at Buck. Buck and Joey were like Skagit’s poster boys for good behavior. “You what?”

“Are you mad?”

No. But he felt like he needed to put up some kind of fight. Buck had literally saved his life… again.

“I’m gonna be a gimp for a while with my arm all fucked up.” When he’d fallen onto the balcony he’d landed on his left arm, breaking it in three places. He was lucky—he’d been told, so he supposed he had to believe it—that he wasn’t full of metal.

“I have a plan. I’m thinking Kevin can apprentice with you. He’s anxious to start learning more.”

Miguel groaned. He’d given up all pretense of staying at the studio apartment. It was Sunday, and Buck had cornered him in the living room before Miguel could slink away. Not that he had anywhere to go. Joey was at work. That was a blessing; Miguel was sick of being mother-henned by him.

“Fine.” Miguel was only wearing a pair of sweatpants. It was too difficult and the summer weather too hot to bother putting a shirt on. Besides, it was a pain in the ass. Like a good patient, he was squeezing the small ball the therapist had given him to strengthen his arm as it healed. Six weeks at least in the soft cast, then he was going to have to keep it in a sling for a while.

“So, why haven’t you seen or called Nate?”

“Christ, Buck, my fucked-up life nearly got the guy killed! Everything I tried to escape when I left Spokane followed me here like a toxic cloud from the Hanford Nuclear Reservation and spewed all over Skagit. Christ, I can’t believe you want anything to do with me.”

Buck sighed. Miguel had heard him doing that a lot since he’d gotten out of the hospital. “Justin is gone forever now, and his choices were not your fault. You are free from him, and Nate is an adult who knew the risks of going to that house alone.”

“I almost got him killed, Buck! And Angel. If it hadn’t been for me, none of this would have happened.”

“Angel wasn’t injured.”

Angel may not have been injured on the outside, but he had been held prisoner for three days before Justin got his hands on Miguel. There was no way the kid wasn’t coming away from that without issues. And he’d already had issues. “Maybe not so we can see. There are a lot of ways to injure people, and Justin was a master at them all.”

“Even Angel says he is fine. In fact, he says he feels stronger; he saw you fight back.”

It had been beyond ironic learning that the person Kevin had been mooning over was Angel. Kevin had learned Angel’s backstory and had been afraid to approach the young man—he didn’t want to scare him. Angel had been bullied and bashed and, much like Miguel, involved in a very unhealthy relationship. When he ended up in the hospital one too many times he, too, had moved to Skagit to start over.

Justin could be charming when he wanted something, and he’d asked Angel to join him for coffee. Angel had been nervous, but Justin promised they would stay at the Booking Room and just talk. When Justin had offered him a ride home, warning bells had not rung. Even at the house, Justin had not hurt Angel, just talked about Miguel and how they would finally be together. It wasn’t until he’d tied him up that Angel feared for his life. Justin had forced a sedative down his throat—not knowing that Angel was one of a small percentage of people who couldn’t metabolize it, so it didn’t have much effect. He’d been faking as much as he could so Justin would leave him alone.

At any rate, when Kevin found out that both Miguel and Angel had been abducted and were at the hospital, he’d freaked out.

The story was still unwinding. About Justin and what he’d done since Miguel left Spokane. Miguel kind of didn’t want to know. He’d learned Justin had murdered a young couple; the knowledge gutted him.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Buck was a mind reader. But it was his fault. So much his fault.

“Adam told me that Oakes was flooded with steroids. It looks like he had the classic signs of steroid use. He probably had ’roid rage and all the other bad stuff steroids can do.”

“Yeah?” Miguel hadn’t heard that. But he’d been pretending to be asleep when Adam came over.

“Yeah. He also told me Nate is home from the hospital. He took him home yesterday.”

“Huh.” What was he supposed to do?

“Maybe you should go visit? I can drop you off for a while.”

“Maybe.” Maybe not. “I need to sort some stuff out.”

Buck huffed. “Don’t spend too long sorting out ‘stuff.’ Nate will think you’re avoiding him.”

Miguel shut his eyes so Buck would leave him alone. The front door opened and shut. Buck was probably heading to the garage to work on Adam’s GTO. Miguel couldn’t help but think about Nate. The man had come to his rescue, found him when Miguel thought all hope was lost. No one had ever come for him before. His own mother had left him and never come back. Nate had an overinflated sense of duty that no doubt came from being a fed; rescuing Miguel and foolish people like him was what he did.

If Miguel was ashamed of being drawn in by Justin’s lies, what could Nate possibly think of him? What an idiot he was. Nate had a broken arm and a head injury because of him. The pretty announcement that Nate would prove to Miguel that he was serious about being together—that he was even willing to reorganize his house for him—Nate must know better now.

Rolling over onto his good side, Miguel shut his eyes and tried to fall asleep instead of dwelling on something he could never have and couldn’t hope for. It was too hard when dreams turned to ash.