Violence snarled through Raph’s veins. “Good. Get back down and stay there.”
“But Dad—Uncle Raph, Dad will have a mood if he sees Max.”
Was this one of the moods Wyatt had stopped Hazel from talking about?
Max pushed the doors open, stepping in.
Raph’s heart pounded. He tucked his hands in his pockets and strolled toward the register, glancing between Wyatt and Max. He’d thought about it countless times before, what he’d do if he found Wyatt’s ex. Punch him, beat him up. Something equal to all the hurt Max had unleashed on Wyatt.
Raph slowed when he approached the register. Up close, Max looked like an ordinary alpha—average looks, clean shirt, fitting pants. Maybe five years older than Raph. Max should’ve known better than to abuse an eighteen-year-old.
Max looked around the diner. Caught sight of Wyatt, his lips twisting into a grin. “Ah,” he murmured, looking Wyatt over. “What a surprise.”
He had to have seen the bump of Wyatt’s belly behind his vest. Hot fury tore through Raph’s gut. Everyone else looking at Wyatt? That was fine. But this bastard? No. He deserved to have his eyeballs ripped out.
Raph pulled his hands from his pockets, so he could curl them into fists. Calm down. Don’t wreck the drive-in. Wy doesn’t need a lawsuit. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Wyatt turned away from his table, a smile on his lips.
His gaze caught on Max. And Wyatt froze, his smile growing brittle.
Raph wanted to go up to him, whisk him away from the diner. But what did Wyatt want? Did he have a plan for situations like this?
Wyatt’s eyes darted to the register, finding Raph. His chest heaved. His gaze held a hint of desperation.
Wyatt looked like he wanted to flee.
And Raph was striding toward him, the public be damned. Anyone could find out about their relationship. In that moment, Raph wouldn’t have cared. But if that bastard laid one finger on Wyatt, he was going to pay.
20
Wyatt
Wyatt couldn’t breathe. The sight of Max had sent a jolt of ice down his spine, and frozen all his limbs.
Why are you here now?
He’d been certain that Max had moved out of California. On Wyatt’s behalf, Sam checked Max’s Facebook profile regularly; Max’s statuses had been logged from Drakestown, Arizona, over the past seven years. It was the reason Wyatt had felt comfortable naming his diner after himself. Except Max was back in Meadowfall, and Wyatt wished he were somewhere across the world.
Nine years later, Max hadn’t changed much. There was gray in his hair, and wrinkles lined his skin. But his eyes were still cruel, and that smile—Wyatt’s stomach wrenched; his body still anticipated the blows that would hurt for days.
Max had seen him, like a predator sighting prey. His mouth pulled into a satisfied smile.
You know how worthless you are, Max had said once. Or should I remind you?
Nine years ago, Wyatt had bowed his head, thinking he needed punishment for trying to seduce Raph. And Max had whipped him, had yanked on his hair, slapped him until his face was swollen. Wyatt had cried, wishing it would stop, yet knowing he needed to suffer for how twisted he’d been.
Looking at Max now, in his diner, Wyatt couldn’t help the terrible dread that flooded through his veins, the urge to hide his face and cry. He’d glimpsed Max once, when he’d taken Hazel east on a road trip, and stopped by a grocery store. Wyatt had pulled Hazel into an aisle, shaking, pretending to dig through the clearance rack so no one would see the tears on his face.
Raph is here, his mind whispered. You will be okay.
But he couldn’t help the fear, the little bubble of panic that threatened to explode in his chest. Wyatt looked at Raph instead, trying to keep his smile on, trying to hold himself together so he could get that food order in, and retreat somewhere safe.
Two sets of Shoyu Ramen, one without onions. One set of Seafood Stir-fried Noodles, no vegetables. Two sides of eggs. What did I forget? There was something else. Damn it!
Wyatt slipped his hand over his belly, needing to protect his baby. Max had seen that, too. Max knew he was pregnant. And that made Wyatt want to cringe, take a hot shower. Wash that dirty stare off his skin. Max didn’t need to know the slightest thing about him.
Raph strode to his side, tall, broad, strong. “Breathe,” he murmured, sliding his arm around Wyatt’s waist. His body was wound tight, too, coiled with tension. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know,” Wyatt mumbled. There was no way out of this dining segment, except to go forward, where Max waited by the front door. Wyatt had no reason to kick him out. He dreaded even speaking to Max.
“I’ll send him away,” Raph said. “Be back soon.” He squeezed Wyatt’s waist, and left him in the aisle.
Wyatt tried to follow; he really did. He managed all of three steps, before he shook so hard that he had to stop.
You’re a sick little omega, soaking up punishment like that, Max had whispered years ago. Hard when I slap you.
Wyatt’s face burned. He looked at the smooth floorboards, wishing he had the strength to move forward, to stride past Max like nothing could break him.
Four yards away, Raph said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave, sir.”
“Who are you?” Max asked, his voice commanding. Wyatt remembered that about him, too. He wished he didn’t.
“The manager of Wy’s Drive-In,” Raph said.
Max narrowed his eyes, glancing at Raph’s chest, where a badge should be. “You don’t seem to be. Where is the real manager?”
He glanced at Wyatt, and Raph growled, stepping between them. “We reserve the right to refuse service.” Raph extended his hand toward the door. “Please.”
At the back of his mind, Wyatt remembered a younger Raph, who would’ve punched the people he didn’t like, and apologize later. Raph had grown and matured for the better. But Wyatt? He was
