But maybe Max couldn’t see anyway, when his eyes were squinted shut, and Raph was yanking Max’s head down, slamming his knee into Max’s face. Blood trailed from Max’s nose and mouth; he gripped at Raph’s arms. Raph snarled, flinging him to the ground, stomping on the back of his head.
“That’s for Wy,” Raph growled, the tendons on his neck strained. Then he kicked Max’s face from the side, hard, and there was a sickening crack. “And that’s for Hazel.”
“I think he might—might be dead,” Hazel said, peeking out past Wyatt’s side. Her voice was rough. “People are usually dead in the movies when you bend their necks like that.”
Wyatt’s stomach clenched. Would Raph get into trouble for it?
Raph glowered when he turned, his eyes bright, savage. His chest heaved. He looked between Wyatt and Hazel. “You all right?”
Hazel seemed fine, but how could Wyatt be sure? He stooped, looking her in the eye. “Do you feel dizzy or nauseous? Where do you hurt?”
Hazel shook her head. “I hurt all over. But other than that, I think I’m fine.”
Wyatt hugged her again, pulling her close to himself. Hazel was okay. She was alive and well, and a wave of relief surged over him, sweeping off the weight on his chest. “Gods, I was so worried, Hazel. I thought—I didn’t know what to think. Uncle Sam and Aunt Penny found you on the drive-in’s security footage. We saw Max taking you away.”
Hazel glowered. “He hit me. I wasn’t gonna let him take my phone, so I stuck it under the seat. He wanted to pull over to find it and I kicked his face.”
Wyatt tried not to smile. It was violent. But if Hazel was fending for herself, Wyatt didn’t care what she did, as long as she was safe.
“Your dad was so damn worried.” Raph reached over, his hand bloody. Hazel leaned away from him, and he stopped. “Sorry. I’m still not forgiven, huh?”
She scrunched her face up. “I’m still thinking.”
Wyatt choked down a laugh. Raph had just beaten the life out of Max, and Hazel still hadn’t forgiven him yet. “What would it take, hon?”
“Pancakes.” Hazel sniffed.
Raph snorted. “Fine.”
In the distance, police sirens blared. Wyatt leaned away from Hazel, looking over her arms and legs. Then he pressed down gingerly on her chest and stomach. “Are you sure you don’t hurt?”
She shrugged, wriggling. “I’m okay, Dad.”
Wyatt buried his face in her shoulder, sagging toward the ground. Hazel really did seem to be fine. With any luck, she wouldn’t be scarred from the kidnapping. And with some counseling, hopefully she wouldn’t retain the sort of memories that had crippled Wyatt for so long.
Raph knelt beside Wyatt, slipping his arm around Wyatt’s back. Wyatt leaned into his alpha, suddenly tired. So much had happened today. Max was probably dead. “Is he...”
Raph glanced at the limp body on the ground. “I think so. Want me to go over and make sure?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I’ll believe you.”
He closed his eyes, letting Raph hold him. Max was dead. He would no longer haunt Wyatt, or show up in Meadowfall. He wouldn’t threaten Hazel again.
Part of Wyatt unfurled, a forgotten part of himself. And for the first time, Wyatt could breathe again.
The police cars pulled up around the gas station, one stopping right next to them. Chief Fleming strode out, his brow furrowed. “How is Hazel?”
“Roughed up, but fine,” Wyatt said. He followed Dad’s gaze to Max, who lay motionless on the asphalt. “Will Raph get into trouble for that?”
“I’ll need more detail, Wyatt.” Dad stopped beside them, setting his hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “Hanging in there, kid?”
“I’m fine!” She frowned, crossing her arms. “I can do a dance if it’ll show you.”
Wyatt couldn’t help smiling.
“Penny briefed me on the situation,” Dad said, his tone turning more solemn. “Sam Brentwood has given me details on Max McArthur, Wyatt. We’ll have grounds to lock him up for some years.”
“If he’s alive,” Hazel said. “I won’t miss him.”
Dad looked at Max again, then at Raph, raising an eyebrow.
“He deserved it,” Raph muttered, glaring.
They watched as uniformed officers swarmed out of the police cars, and an ambulance pulled up. In a lower tone, Dad said, “You may or may not get into trouble for this, Raph. Depends on your circumstances.”
Raph shoved his bloody hands in his pockets. “Which means?”
“Child protection can be grounds for defense,” Dad said slowly, looking between Wyatt, Hazel, and Raph. “But that’s only valid if you’re the child’s parent, or legal guardian. Or if the child can testify that you have a parent-child relationship with them.”
“What does that mean?” Hazel asked.
Wyatt held his breath. Then he released it slowly, holding Hazel’s hand. “It means Raph won’t get into trouble over Max if he’s your dad.” To his father, he said, “We’ve been talking about getting married. Raph was asking if Hazel wanted him as her dad.”
Chief Fleming looked kindly at Hazel. “So is Raph your dad?”
For the second time today, Raph looked uncertain. Wyatt held his hand. Hazel glanced between all of them. Then her gaze settled on Raph, and she bit her lip in thought. “Yeah,” she finally said. “But I’m still angry with you.”
Raph let out a sigh, a smile breaking across his face. Then he reached for her, palms up. “Can I have a hug?”
“Are you going to make me pancakes?” Hazel scrutinized him.
“Yes.”
“A hundred of them?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I guess.” She stepped into his arms, and Wyatt watched as Raph’s shoulders relaxed. Raph pulled her tight against his chest.
“Glad to have you back, princess,” Raph said, kissing her forehead.
Dad watched them, his expression unreadable. It was a lot for him to digest, too, his sons bonding, his granddaughter being kidnapped. At length, he said, “I’ve told your mom about Hazel. I expect she’ll want to see you at some point tonight. After Hazel’s seen the EMTs and we’ve recorded your statements.”
Raph glanced at Wyatt. Wyatt nodded,
