Memphis took off after the guy.
Diesel reached the room and stepped inside.
He lost every bit of air in his lungs at the sight of Triton in the hospital bed.
“Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he breathed, approaching the bed.
Triton was a shadow of his former self.
JJ worked around him, fixing the tubes and wires that were going into the boy’s broken body and bruised face.
His heart fucking broke.
The thinness nor bruises could take away from how beautiful Triton was. The boy lay so still on the bed. Around his neck, the deep red and purple marks made Diesel see suddenly red.
JJ spoke quietly. “He was asking for someone by your name. I take it you know him?”
“Yes.” He lowered down into the chair near the bed.
“He’s passed out again, poor thing. I’m going to have the doctor come check him and see if he wants me to give him a sedative to help him rest.”
“Tell me his injuries.”
“Let me get the doc.”
She left the room, and Diesel reached and slid his fingers beneath the tips of Triton’s slim white fingers sticking out from a cast on his right arm. Someone had broken his wrist. Whoever it was, was a fucking dead man. The boy’s fingers were cold and still.
“It’s not just his wrist.” Doctor Bill Parson came into the room with a chart. “Hey, Diesel. I heard you were here.”
“Hey, Doc. Yeah, someone tried to kidnap him just now. Guess beating him up wasn’t enough.” He squeezed the metal bed railing.
“Are you talking about John Doe?”
“Triton.”
“What?” Bill frowned.
“His name. I can give you his emergency contact information, but his cousin is deployed right now.”
“He told me you were his next of kin and emergency contact, but passed out before I could get his name.”
“Triton Scott.” It surprised him that Triton listed him as next of kin, but he didn’t let it show on his face.
“Is he correct? Are you his next of kin?”
“I am.” There was no way in hell he was letting Triton out of his sight until he contacted Maddox, but first he needed to find out why the hell Triton was here and to do that, he had to stay in this room.
“All right then. Triton sustained recent bruises on his body, around his neck, and a cracked wrist. However, as I’m sure you know, these are nothing compared to the old breaks from previous injuries. He’s been physically abused for years. Most likely as a young boy, as well as throughout the last few months especially.”
Years? That meant someone had used Triton as a punching bag while growing up. His other hand squeezed the metal bedrail.
“I talked to him about it a little bit. I told him we have one of the best psychologists here in the state who specializes and helps trauma patients.”
“Vince, he is one of the best,” Diesel agreed. Vince Van Patton, Diesel had gone to the man his whole life when shit got rough.
“That he is. Your Mr. Scott seemed like he didn’t want any part of it.”
“I’ll talk to him.” He swallowed around a tight throat, wanting to snap and snarl. His eyes stayed glued on Triton’s fair complexion, thick lashes, and full lips. The bruise on his cheek set his teeth grinding, but his hand never stopped its gentle caress of fingers.
“He got away,” Memphis said from the doorway. “I have a partial plate and my officers searching. I’m set to rejoin them. I just stopped by to let you know. Watch your back and his.”
He gazed at Memphis. “I will.”
“Hey, Sheriff,” the Doc said.
“Hey, Bill.”
The doctor frowned. “I’m going to order extra security tonight, but we’re just a small hospital. We don’t normally get this kind of thing.”
“Don’t worry about getting extra for Triton, he’s not staying,” Diesel said roughly.
“What?” Memphis said.
“He doesn’t need to stay overnight, does he?” Diesel asked the doc.
“No, he doesn’t. I was only keeping him because he didn’t have a place to stay. He’s very weak. I thought of taking him home to Carla and giving the boy some TLC.”
He gave the well-meaning doctor a dark look.
“No. Triton has a place with me, and as soon as he’s awake, I’m taking him home. My place is like a fortress.”
“Okay then,” Memphis said to Bill. “I’ll send back an officer in case the guy comes back.”
“Thanks,” the doc replied.
“Don’t let that guy find out where Triton is,” Diesel warned them. He would fucking protect Triton from whoever that fucker was, because he was pretty damned sure it had been Clay.
“We won’t,” the doc agreed. “I’ll have security keep the doors locked tonight.”
Memphis jerked his head at Bill and the two men stepped just outside of the open door.
“You coming to poker night at the end of the month?” Memphis asked Bill.
“Yeah, you?”
“Hell yes, Diesel is bringing potato salad,” Memphis said. Diesel smirked.
“I’m awake,” Triton whispered, but it was enough to gain the three men’s attention.
Doctor Bill and Memphis turned back into the room.
At the sound of the soft whisper, Diesel closed his eyes for a brief moment before he zeroed in on Triton.
The sky blue eyes were red rimmed, and a blood vessel had broken in the eye where the bruise lay on his cheek. They were the same blue he’d remembered, but these eyes were filled with shadows, pain, and fear.
“How are you feeling?” The doctor approached the other side of the bed, and Diesel felt Triton tense.
The doc shined a light in Triton’s eyes and read his vitals.
“Like I got run over. Did Auto try to kidnap me?” Triton struggled to sit up in the bed as fear swept through his eyes.
“Auto?” Diesel clenched his teeth.
“Who’s Auto?” the doc asked, flashing Diesel a worried look.
“Clay’s brother.” The boy tugged the blanket up to cover his mouth so only his eyes and that shock of blond hair were showing.
“You weren’t hit by a truck, but like I told you earlier, you were attacked and need to take it easy,” Doc Bill remarked.
“Okay.” Triton’s lashes lowered, refusing to look at him.
The tentative, hopeful, and sometimes teasing boy he’d left in Texas was gone. Fuck.
“Triton, is it?” Memphis asked quietly, and Triton tentatively nodded. “Can you describe the man who was after you?”
Triton struggled beneath the blankets and tugged out a cell phone. Looking to the screen, he scrolled through it. “This is Auto Martin on the left, the one that attacked me. The one on the right is his brother, Clay Martin.”
Before the sheriff could take the phone, Triton tossed it on the bed to avoid touching anyone.
Memphis lifted the phone and sent the photo to his own.
“Thank you,” the sheriff replied with a nod and gently placed the phone back on the bed. “This will help. I’ve got to get back out there and get this to my men. If you think of anything else that could be helpful, let Diesel know.”
Diesel exchanged a worried look with Memphis before the sheriff left the room. Triton snatched the phone off the bed and cradled it to his chest.