The Winter Moon's Wolf Part 21

He made phone calls on the drive. First to his brothers, then to Dean's parents. He told them he didn't know anything about his condition, only that the man behind the attacks was behind bars now.

"I'll keep in contact and let you know as I find out things," he said.

His mother, weeping, said thank you and hung up. He tossed the phone with his into the cup holder. It was all the information he had at the moment.

Dean was on his way to the hospital and the man behind it was going to jail. He didn't remember one second of the drive, just that he never once lost the spin of those strobing lights.

Cade jerked awake when the door opened to Dean's room. He scrubbed his face, feeling grungy and twice as weary.

"How is he?" Jamie inched closer "He's still out. They finished surgery about midnight. They said he wouldn't be awake until sometime in the morning."

Jamie handed over a large coffee. "Thought this might be better than the hospital brew."

"I'm positive it is," he replied, accepting it gratefully. He drew a sip, letting the still warm liquid coat his insides.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know." Cade pulled out his cell phone. It was a little after seven. Sleeping in a cramped and uncomfortable chair most of the night was not being appreciated by any part of Cade's body at the moment. He stretched gingerly, working out kinks, slowly drinking the coffee to wake up.

"Do you think this guy is behind everything?"

"I do. It was someone who knew Dean well enough to know when he'd be home, when he'd be at the bar." He rubbed the back of his neck, stretched his spine. He didn't think his shoulders were supposed to pop, but they did.

"Will he have permanent damage?"

"The doctors didn't say, but I don't think so."

Jamie nodded with the news. Then, "Chris gave you the next month off."

Cade straightened on the chair. "He didn't-"

Jamie gave him one of those unsettling looks that all of them had already learned meant business. "Take it, Cade. Dean needs you and you need the time with him. They can take care of the clinic between them."

He slumped in the chair, unwilling and too exhausted to fight. "Chris is lucky to have you."

Jamie rolled a shoulder, a slight smile fleetingly appearing then vanis.h.i.+ng. "I'm the lucky one. Always will be." He patted Cade's shoulder. "I have to get back to Silo. Call when you find out anything."

Cade reached for the hand on his shoulder. "I will." He squeezed.

Jamie left and the room fell quiet again. Cade finished the coffee and dozed off and on, staying quiet and un.o.btrusive during nurse visits. So long as he didn't cause anyone issue, they'd left him alone. He behaved because he wasn't about to be thrown out.

Dean roused out of his drug-induced sleep about nine thirty.

Cade moved his chair closer as they waited for the staff nurse to come in and do a checkup. He held Dean's hand, keeping him from poking too curiously at the brace around his neck. It looked like he was wearing a white, cloth sausage.

Dean's lips moved, but the sound was very graveled and nearly inaudible.

"I know, babe. Don't talk."

Dean sighed, heavily shadowed eyes closing.

One of the head s.h.i.+ft nurses came into the room. "Morning, Mr. Eckler," she greeted gently. She helped him adjust the bed so he could sit more upright then began taking a round of vitals to input on a computer she'd dragged in with her. "Okay," she said once that was done. "I need to ask you some questions. Don't try to talk. Can you lift your hand?"

Dean raised his free hand and gave a thumbs up.

"Good. I want you to answer these as truthfully as you can. If it's one to five, thumb down and then fingers." She showed him. "If it's six through ten, thumbs up and fingers, okay?"

Dean nodded.

"Good. How much pain does it cause you to breathe?"

Dean took slow breaths. Thumb down and three fingers.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say something along those lines. It's just sore from the trauma. Your esophageal pa.s.sage wasn't injured."

"That's good, right?" Cade asked.

"Very good." She typed and asked some more questions about pain and where.

When she was almost done, Dean tapped Cade and pointed at his mouth.

"Water?" he asked.

Dean nodded.

The nurse answered for him. "I'll get you some ice chips for now. Your throat is fine, but you had damage to several tendons around your vocal chords. Excessive muscle movement over the next several days is going to be very uncomfortable."

"I'm guessing that's your way of saying it's going to hurt like h.e.l.l if he pushes?"

She smirked. "Your words, but yes."

Dean's chest rose and fell as he breathed steadily. He nodded in understanding and made the okay okay finger sign. finger sign.

When the nurse left, Dean tapped him again and motioned like he was writing.

"Sure. Let me see if I can find something. Rest until the ice gets here."

Cade left him relaxed on the bed, going to the nurses' station for a pen and pad. Saying thank you, he returned to find an orderly just dropping off the ice.

"Little sips," Cade warned.

Dean rolled his eyes but nodded.

Putting his finds on the table beside the bed, Cade helped slip chips of ice between Dean's lips.

It wasn't supposed to be anything beyond helping him, making sure he didn't overdo it right after having surgery.

What it turned into was an erotic tease.

The cool touch of the ice to Dean's lips, the soft capture of those same lips as he tongued the bits into his mouth off the spoon. The flick of lashes as sensation and relief collided on his features.

The moist sparkle of damp the ice left behind on his lips killed Cade with the desire to lick them.

Cade handed him the cup, clearing his throat. "Maybe... Maybe you should do it." He had swollen beyond uncomfortable in his jeans in the last ten minutes watching Dean make oral love to the spoon.

Dean huffed silently with humor but didn't refuse the cup. He took his time and Cade let him, not interrupting him.

When he was done, he set the emptied cup and spoon on the table next to him. He tapped the top of Cade's hand and motioned for the pad.

He wrote out a few things and handed it back.

Cade read them and started to answer each one.

"Yes, your parents know. I promised I'd call as soon as I learned something. No, I haven't talked to the police. They want to talk to both of us. I'm sure we'll be seeing them soon."

He lowered the pad to study Dean. "What happened?"

Dean reached for the pad and started writing. Cade gave him time as the words flowed from pen to paper.

When he read it, he trembled. Jeee-sus. Jeee-sus. So close. So close. So. f.u.c.king. Close. So. f.u.c.king. Close. "Who is this guy?" "Who is this guy?"

Dean shrugged.

"You don't have any ideas?"

No. A very small head shake. A very small head shake.

"Maybe the police know."

He reached for the pad and wrote, I hope so I hope so. Then, When do I go home? When do I go home?

"I guess after the doctor looks in on you. Now that you're awake, I don't think you'll be here much longer."

He wrote out one more thing: Thank you. Thank you.

Cade swallowed the rush of emotions that dared to clog his throat. "Always, babe. I'll always be there for you."

The use of babe caught Dean by surprise, his expressive eyes widening.

Cade cupped his hand. "We need to talk, but right now, all any of us want is to get you home."

Dean squeezed Cade's hand in undeniable agreement.

"Home," he breathed, a very raw whisper. You. You. He pointed to Cade, then to himself. He pointed to Cade, then to himself. Me. Me.

"Yes. Home." Cade sighed in relief, pressing Dean's held hand to his cheek. Even after a million and one f.u.c.kups with Dean, his lover was giving him one more chance.

He promised he wouldn't waste this one.

Chapter Seventeen.

Dean didn't argue when the trip home ended at Cade's place. Dean definitely wasn't going all the way to Ca.s.san, according to Cade. He had called Kelly and told him to meet them both there that afternoon instead of making the drive to the hospital in the next county. Dean was sure Kelly had plenty of questions about last night.

"I'm going to put your things in the bedroom then start the tea water."

Dean just nodded. He was still feeling a little shaky. His body was out of sync with his brain. He sank down into the recliner and pushed backward to raise the footrest. Dean's cell phone rang not too long after Cade reappeared. Dean listened as Cade answered it, able to hear him talking to Ann.

"We're at my place now." Cade slid him a questioning look and Dean nodded. "Let me give you directions."

Dean zoned out to the rest of the conversation. He couldn't avoid his parents indefinitely. At least they were flying home soon. Dean was grateful Cade fielded phone calls because not long after his mother called, the detective was next. He agreed to come with the sheriff so Dean could answer everything with them both there.

A tap on his shoulder had him blearily blinking. He hadn't realized he'd zoned out and dozed off. A steaming mug waited for him. "It's pretty warm, so slow, okay?"

"Yes, Mother," Dean mouthed.

Cade chuckled.

Dean took a cautious sip. He had no idea how he was going to take the horse pills the hospital had prescribed, since even the smallest swallow tugged and ached at various points along his throat. The warmth felt good, though.

He wore a neck brace around his throat with gauze wrapped beneath to protect he'd forgotten how many st.i.tches. The brace kept him from straining those st.i.tches with movement. He was going to have one h.e.l.l of a scar. Like he'd escaped a hangman's noose. Dean tried not to s.h.i.+ver at the a.n.a.logy. He supposed he had, in actuality. The final report from the doctor had sounded scarier than h.e.l.l. Somehow, the bones protecting his pa.s.sage hadn't collapsed, which would have crushed his airway. Sliced tendons that luckily weren't severed. A close call to the internal carotid artery. He'd come a hairsbreadth from bleeding to death. You can only sugarcoat You almost died You almost died so many ways. so many ways.

Cade turned on the TV and let it play on low as he did stuff in the kitchen. Every now and then, Dean caught him watching only for him to quickly spin away. Hovering but trying to not look like he was.

"Dinner is soup, until you're more healed," Cade warned, joining him to sit on the couch.

Dean shrugged. He wasn't close to being hungry yet.

They watched TV until there was a knock on the door. Expecting the police, Dean was surprised his mother and father beat them to the house.

He sat up on the chair and hugged both, rubbing his mother's back as she choked on a couple breaths holding him.

Cade offered a pad and Dean started to write as they took seats.

I'm fine. Really. I'm waiting for the police so I'm not answering anything yet.

His mother nodded. "Okay." She and Trent shared a look. "We needed to talk to you anyway."