#Junkie (GearShark #1)

“Fuck,” I muttered and yanked the coffee table closer so I could sit on it right in front of Trent.

“S’okay,” he told me.

I uncapped the bottle and dumped some of the stuff on the cloth.

“Someone jump you?” Braeden demanded.

Trent grunted. “Four of them.”

The plastic of the bottle in my hand made a harsh sound when the side dented in from the pressure of my fist as it tightened at his words.

“Please tell me you know who they were. Even just one. I just need one name.” Braeden paced behind us.

“It’s gonna hurt like hell.” I warned him and leaned forward.

“Just do it.”

We locked eyes, and a moment passed between us. Gently, I started dabbing at the cut on his head. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Trent.” Braeden’s voice was impatient.

“They’re Omega.”

Braeden stopped pacing. “Your own brothers jumped you?” His voice had gone quiet. Deadly. That was a dangerous tone for Braeden.

“They aren’t my brothers,” Trent replied.

“You said everything was fine over there,” B pressed.

He had said that. Why hadn’t I known he was lying? Why hadn’t I paid closer attention?

The gash in his forehead was a little deeper than I liked, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore, just oozing a little. Once I had the area around it clean and dry, I pulled out a butterfly bandage and applied it. Trent’s eyes dropped closed as I worked, applying a wide bandage over the butterfly, just to keep it clean for now.

“Why would they do this to you?” Braeden demanded. His pacing resumed.

Trent’s eyes opened and he looked at me. What I saw penetrated my chest. The look he wore was shuttered, the kind of look he reserved for people that weren’t me.

I knew then it was bad.

“Why?” I asked low.

His eyes shifted away and locked on Braeden. “Because I’m gay.”

I’d never heard Braeden so silent before. It was like he was struck speechless. Trent held his eyes directly on B, but I didn’t turn around to see his reaction. I was too focused on the man in front of me.

“Got the ice,” Ivy hurried back to my side. The bottle of pain reliever in her hands rattled with pills. She noticed the dead silence in the room and hesitated.

“Beer,” Trent asked.

“Water,” I corrected.

Braeden made a rude sound. “Get the man a beer, baby. He’s had a rough night.”

“He can’t take pills with beer,” I snapped.

“What are you, his mom?” B argued.

“Water’s fine,” Trent said, but Ivy was already gone to the kitchen.

I went back to cleaning up his face, and his eyes dropped closed again. The room was silent for long minutes, even when Ivy came back with a beer and a water in her hands.

The more blood I cleaned off him, the more bruises I found. My stomach was so knotted I wondered if it would bear the kinks from tonight for the rest of my life.

Once his face was completely clean and patched up, I uncapped the water and handed it to him with some pills.

His knuckles were red and scraped up, so when he was done drinking, I grabbed his hand and started cleaning that up, too.

“I think his ribs are broken,” I said.

“I can call my mom, have her come over.” B’s mom was a nurse. She probably would know for certain if he needed medical attention or not.

“That would be—”

“No.” Trent cut in. “Not tonight.”

“Can you breathe okay?” B asked.

“Good enough,” he answered.

I made a frustrated sound. Trent gave me that shuttered look again, and I shut up.

“We’ll call her in the morning,” he offered, like he wanted to pacify me.

I nodded because I wanted to pacify him, too.

Trent looked at Braeden. “You gonna say anything?”

“I do have one question.” He hedged.

I glanced at Ivy, wondering what she was going to think when we filled her in on Trent’s status.

“Ask,” Trent urged, shifting a little. A grimace pulled at his lips, and I wanted to rip his shirt up and look at the damage to his midsection.

“Does size really matter?” B deadpanned.

Everyone went silent for one heartbeat, and then Trent started laughing.

“Ow,” he groaned. “Dammit, B. No more jokes.” His hand pressed to his side even as he chuckled.

“Braeden James Walker!” Ivy gasped. “I cannot believe you. They tell you they’re in a relationship and you ask them about their size preference!”

You could have heard a pin drop in the center of the room.

Trent never told B he and I were involved. He hadn’t mentioned me at all.

Guess that made it pretty clear my sister already knew.

“It’s a legit question,” Braeden finally said.

I looked at him, shock clear on my face.

Braeden glanced between me and T and waved a hand. “You think that’s news? We all know.”

“You know?” I repeated, shocked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a dumbass.”

Trent laughed again, and it turned into another groan.

“You should lie down.” Ivy worried. “Are you hurting anywhere else besides your ribs? Do you have pain anywhere else?”

“I’m okay,” he answered. “It didn’t last that long. They were nervous they were gonna get caught.”

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