Their Bounty (Four Mercenaries 1)

But as if that hasn’t been enough horror, Clover noticed a hand laying in the grass, separate from the body. It still clutched a gun, as if it were to come to life and attack him even though it was no longer attached. He whimpered and took a step back, only to bump into Drake whose slim form wouldn’t budge. Clover took a deep breath that smelled of smoke and meat. This was just a body. No matter how scary it looked, it couldn’t hurt him, and he wouldn’t allow it to haunt his dreams. This man, who’d come here for him, to hunt him down as if Clover were a white fox good for only his pelt, didn’t deserve his pity. If anything, the beautiful woods were too good of a place for him to die.

“See how his head is caved in?” Drake asked, taking his hand out of Clover’s mane and resting it behind his back, as if despite the harshness of this lesson he still wanted to provide some emotional support. “This might not have killed him right away. But the massive blood loss? I think that’s how he went. Just take a good look.”

Clover swallowed, his whole body going numb. “When did you kill someone for the first time?”

Drake remained still, but eventually he started scratching Clover’s nape gently as they watched red stains in the moss and on a lush fern that obscured the torn arm. “One of my owners wanted to get rid of this client. They had me poison him. I was... I don’t know. Maybe twelve.”

Clover choked up and pressed his body against Drake. The cuffed hands were even more of an obstruction now, because he longed to give him a hug. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Drake had been through. His own problems felt so petty in comparison.

Clover had always considered he could slide through life with enough lies and manipulation, but now he could see that if he wanted more than hiding until the end of his days, he would need to change. He wasn’t a rat to scuttle into dark corners. He was sick of tiptoeing around predators and feeding on their leftovers. If he wanted to become more like the beasts around him, he would have to stare into death’s eyes without fear.

So he watched the still body, and didn’t even blink anymore, taking in the sight.

Drake pulled Clover away from the corpse, still keeping him close. “I’d rather you didn’t mention any of what I told you about my past to the guys,” he said in his usual way, barely opening his mouth. Clover had gotten used to it, but now that he knew Drake was hiding his tongue, Clover’s heart broke for him.

He shook his head. “I won’t. I wouldn’t. I’d never.”

Drake petted his hair. “‘Never’ is a big word. People can be pushed further than they think, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Clover swallowed, his stomach cramping when he remembered why they were alone. “And you… won’t tell Tank I tried to run?”

Drake snorted, sliding his arm over Clover’s as they neared the edge of the slope. “No. But only if you’re a good boy until evening,” he said, his black eyes narrowed to slits, adding an edge to his sexy smile. For all his aloof behavior, Drake knew how to be alluring. A beautiful snake that hypnotized with its eyes while rattling its tail in warning.

Clover nudged him with his elbow, already comfortable with this hard-won camaraderie. With Drake at his side, their group was no longer disjointed. “I am a good boy. Tank can attest to that. And I’ll wait till evening, if I must.” He sighed theatrically. He was still half-hard, so any touch, any hint of teasing was a rollercoaster ride he couldn’t leave, but as much as he didn’t want to wait, he’d enjoy himself nevertheless.

Pyro noticed them first. He picked up a stick and tossed it their way. “What the hell? We’ve been looking for you!

Tank got out of the car in a fresh set of clothes, and he approached the edge of the road, his gaze burning Clover like a hot iron. “What’s going on?”

Clover’s throat tightened when his foot slipped on a rock. But Drake kept him steady, his hold secure as if his legs could somehow stick to any surface. “One of the guys ran after him, so I intervened.”

Tank approached them with a frown. “And you couldn’t find the keys for the cuffs in the grass? Did he drop them?”

Drake ran his fingertips over Clover’s shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. The time until evening would be painfully long. “No, they’re my cuffs.”

The silence prolonged as they all stared at Drake and Clover until Pyro wolf-whistled.

“So that’s how it is. Clover wanted to thank his hero, and you finally discovered his many talents. Good for you, brother,” he said, grinning as if they hadn’t been accosted by a bunch of mercenaries not so long ago.