Page 17 of Throw Down

Briar stumbled along with his head down, like a tired horse, barely watching where he was going.Every step took effort. Beside him, Derek was all easy confidence, his tall frame throwing a long shadow on the asphalt.He was able to carry all the shopping bags in one hand.His free hand hovered suspiciously close to Briar's elbow, ready to catch him if he fell.If Briar wasn't so desperately close to needing it, he might have been insulted.

“Car’s this way,” Derek rumbled, nodding toward an old...Chevy Astro?

Briar climbed inside and slid across the passenger seat, but something grabbed at his jeans.He picked off a strand of chewing gum with a grimace.“I think this is the same van the wet bandits used in Home Alone,” he cracked.

“It belongs to my sister.”

“Sure.” Briar nodded.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “It does.”

Of course, it did. Briar had seen his truck the other night.Even he could tell it was a classic.But he was kind of enjoying this crazy, suicidal impulse to tease.It was probably a sign of delirium.Joking around with Derek Owens felt like taking his life in his hands.The guy did an excellent impression of a backwoods ogre, and Briar was the size of a child’s toy.

And yet, as Derek eased the van out of the parking lot, Briar feltstrangelysafe.Derek was a calm, steady presence in a world that felt precarious even on a good day.The glare of the Stop n’ Shop’s neon sign melted into the darkness, and the rustle of Derek behind the wheel was almostsoothing.

Before Briar knew it, he was nodding off in hisseat.

Chapter Seven

DEREK

Briar's apartment was part of a new complex behind the downtown Dairy Queen.Derek stood behind him on the landing, ready to catch him just in case he crumpled and fell down the stairs.The kid was already a waif, but right now he looked so weak that a strong gust of wind would send him ass over teakettle.

Derek was tempted to dislike everything about him: his softness, his weakness, even his youth.He hadn't been chewed up by life yet, and an ugly part of Derek resented that.But he couldn't act on it. There was something about Briar that inspired a strange gentleness in him.Something like the way he felt about his siblings—but different.Very different. It unsettled him.Besides his family, the only other person to inspire any kind of tenderness in him was Claire.But he didn't like to think about her, or how foolish he'd once been. Trying to be straight for her had just ruined both their lives.

So, he stood there wordlessly, and he didn't offer to help when Briar fumbled clumsily with his keys.Briar glanced over his shoulder, embarrassed, and Derek looked pointedly at his watch.

Susan and the kids were still waiting for him to deliver their food.He should have headed straight over as soon as he'd finished replacing the belt, but that was when he'd spotted Briar from a distance.It looked like he had weights strapped to his ankles as he stumbled into the Stop n' Shop, all wobbly legs and bloodshot eyes.His normally pale skin had a gray, clammy sheen.It was such a stark contrast to his vibrant, lippy energy from the other night that it stopped Derek in his tracks.The kid had obviously needed some help.Derek wasn’t a monster, after all.

“Home sweet home,” Briar muttered, avoiding Derek’s eyes as he opened the door and flicked on the lights.

The apartment wasn’t much more than a white-wall box, devoid of personal touches.Derek glanced around impassively, surprised by the spartan furnishings.The space was dominated by a worn-out carpet, speckled here and there with budget furniture.No photographs. No art. Just a stack of veterinary journals piled on a rickety coffee table.Derek was no design expert, but to his critical eyes, it looked like a stopover.The room lacked any hint of permanence, like a cheap motel with an inhabitant who didn't know how to settle down.

“It’s just temporary,” Briar blurted, as if reading his mind.“I’m just here to help Nate get the clinic off the ground.Then it’s back to city life for me.”

Derek only nodded.

“Thanks...you know, for helping me out,” Briar mumbled.He looked ready to collapse. He was swaying on his feet, and his face was flushed and sweaty.

“You need a shower,” Derek said, eyeing him critically.“Warm, not hot. I don’t need you passing out in there.”

Briar rubbed at his temples, looking pitiful and exasperated.He opened his mouth to argue, but Derek wasn't listening.Nobody ever won an argument with him.He grabbed Briar by the back of the neck, gently turned him toward the bathroom, and added, “At least get out of those ridiculous clothes and into something you can sleep in.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” Briar muttered.

Derek rolled his eyes. Briar's fashionable shirt was absurdly out of place in Sweetwater, like lipstick on a pig.But Derek couldn’t resist rubbing his thumb over the silky-soft fabric before giving Briar a gentle shove down the hall.

The shower hissed on a moment later.

Derek busied himself in the small kitchenette, setting out supplies and digging a cheap saucepan from one of the laminated cabinets.The canned soup was just a base to build on with some bone broth and veggies, flavored with a dash of turmeric and ginger that he’d made sure to add to the basket.

Even if he hadn’t been listening for it, he'd have known the instant Briar entered the room by the light, soapy waft of his bodywash.The simmering soup hadn't been able to make his mouth water—but this scent did.

“Where’d you learn to cook?” Briar asked as he sat at the counter.He looked young and vulnerable, clad in a pair of fleece pants and a threadbare t-shirt, with the tips of his hair still dripping.“It’s surprisingly…domestic.”

“I guess a guy like me can't cook, huh?” Derek snapped.“I just send the little woman to the kitchen to make me a sandwich?”

Briar flushed. “That’s not what I meant.”