Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

rolled to the ground, and somehow ended up at Cade's feet, Aiden on his back, Warren sitting on top of him, his knees pinning Aiden's arms to the ground. Warren's teeth were bloody when he smiled at Cade. "Ask me nicely, and I won't smash his face in. If you beg pretty enough, I won't destroy his sweet—"
    Cade's foot caught Warren right beneath his jaw, the full force of Cade's uninjured leg behind it. Warren rocked backward and Cade stepped around, bore his weight on his strong leg and swung with the other, connecting with Warren's gut. The man toppled to the side, gasping, and Aiden scrambled to his feet and stood beside Cade.
    That was when Aiden's parents ran around the corner of the cottage, drawn by the commotion.
    "What on Earth !" Mrs. St. John shrieked.
    "What's going on?" Mr. St. John was only a little calmer than his wife. "What happened? Aiden, you're bleeding. Warren, Jesus, what happened to you?"
    "Warren needs to leave," Aiden said. He seemed to have regained most of his composure although his voice was still unsteady. "I'll explain later, but for now, please trust me. He needs to go."
    Mrs. St. John stared at her son, and there was an unspoken communication, something that made Cade understand just how close the two were, and how hard it must be for the woman to be delegated to the supporting role after being the star for so long. She nodded, and still looking confused, she spoke firmly, looking more at her son than at her houseguest. "I'm sorry, Warren, but I have to ask you to leave."
    Mr. St. John looked baffled, understandably. "Maybe there's room next door," he suggested.
    "No." Aiden stepped forward, and Cade could only see the back of his head, but even from that angle he looked determined. "He needs to go ."
    "Aren't you going to tell them why, Aiden?" Warren asked from the ground, his breath still coming in gasps. "Aren't you going to tell them about—"
    "He doesn't need to," Mrs. St. John interrupted. "Not unless he wants to. Aiden, Cade, come into the kitchen. I'll get some ice for your lip, Aiden." She turned to her husband. "You'll help Warren pack?"
    Everything went smoothly after that. Mrs. St. John shepherded the boys into the kitchen and found stools for both of them. She glanced at the blood stain expanding on the leg of Cade's jeans and shook her head in exasperation. "Aiden, here," she said, pulling a bag of peas out of the freezer and wrapping a dishtowel around it. "For your mouth. Cade, lean back on Aiden and lift your leg up onto this stool."
    Cade wasn't sure about that. Did Aiden want to touch him? The protectiveness had been something, but it was more instinctive than conscious; Aiden was the sort of person who'd help anyone who was being threatened. It didn't mean he'd forgiven Cade, didn't mean he wanted to touch him. But Aiden's hand was on Cade's shoulder, and then wrapping gently around his chest, asking permission for the contact and then easing Cade backward. "I'm sorry," he whispered in Cade's ear. "I'm an asshole, but I love you. All of you, even the parts that make me sad."
    Aiden's mother did an admirable job of pretending not to hear that, and when Cade let himself be rearranged, she pulled his pant leg up and peeled back the bandage. Then she swatted him sharply on the thigh. "You've pulled the stitches out. We need to go back and get it fixed. I'll tell them to use crazy glue this time."
    "Mom—" Aiden started.
    "We'll be having a conversation, Aiden, a long one. But it can wait. For now, let's get Cade patched up. I don't want him bleeding on my new upholstery." She patted Cade's knee as she pulled his pant leg back down, then strode to the door and leaned outside. "David, Tricia, we're having a little crisis here. Nothing huge, but I've got to drive the boys in to the hospital again. And Warren's been called away unexpectedly. Andrew's helping him get packed." She frowned as something occurred to her and quieted her voice to speak to Aiden. "He's not going to attack your father or anything, is he? It's safe for them to be alone?"
    "Yeah, I think so." Aiden said, then pointedly added, "I don't think Dad's his type."
    Mrs. St. John nodded as if the words weren't a total surprise to her and turned back to her guests. "We'd love to have you stay and finish your dessert, and there's more coffee, of course. And hopefully Andrew will be down shortly. But do you mind terribly if I abandon you?"
    "Is there anything we can do to help?"
    "Oh, no, it's fine. Just