Savior Complex: An MM Age Gap Romance (Wild Heart Ranch Book 3)
Savior Complex: Chapter 17

It’s the Sunday after the confrontation at the bunkhouse, and there’s an incredibly handsome priest on our front porch. His plain black button-down is tucked neatly into faded jeans and his sleeves are rolled halfway up, exposing heavily tattooed forearms that contrast with the white collar at his neck. His Doc Martens and black nail polish round out the look.

Erik moves past me and opens the front door. “Hey, uh, Father.”

The good Father snorts and pushes the hair off Erik’s forehead with a knowing look. “Don’t let the collar fool you, Erik. I’m still Beckett underneath.”

Right as Beckett’s hand drifts down Erik’s chest, Ant walks into the living room with Elias and a small rolling case full of the clothes and electronics we bought for him. His sharp eyes immediately clock Beckett’s flirtatious lean and familiar contact. Even more telling, Erik spies Ant and immediately steps back from his collared friend.

Murder fires up in Ant’s eyes, even as he gives Elias a sweet hug. I’m, like, eighty percent certain Ant won’t kill Beckett, but Ant’s glare could make a person’s ears bleed.

We all take turns giving Elias hugs and assurances that he can contact us whenever. While we would have been more than happy to host him until he was reunified with his parents, we also try to go through proper channels when it’s both possible and beneficial.

This priest friend of Erik’s has ties with a group home just outside of Austin that has older kids Elias’ age in a supportive, trauma-informed environment. I’m not usually thrilled at the prospect of a religious group home, but Erik and Charlie have worked with these folks before and know Elias will be in good hands.

Beckett approaches Elias and says in Spanish, “I think you’ll like the place we’re taking you. Everyone’s pretty cool, and I promise you won’t have to go to Sunday mass unless you really want to.”

Elias stitches his brows together. “Do you give the mass?”

“I do.”

“I didn’t know priests could have tattoos.”

Beckett shrugs. “Sometimes you’ve got to break the rules, kid.”

Elias grins at Ant. “Sounds like the kind of church you should go to.”

Ant narrows his daggered eyes at Beckett. “Maybe one of these days I will.”

Beckett sends Ant a wink, then leans up to whisper in Erik’s ear. “Uh, yeah,” Erik responds, gulping.

“You’ve got my number,” Beckett purrs, patting his chest. “Use it.”

With a quick nod, Erik ushers Beckett and Elias out of the house as the vein in Ant’s forehead throbs. We all stand on the porch and wave goodbye to Elias. The second they disappear from view, Ant turns to Erik, scowling up at him with balled fists, looking like it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to kill the tall Nord where he stands.

“You just had to go and fuck a priest, didn’t you?”

Erik’s ears go red, but he doesn’t deny the charge.

“Ugh!” Ant yells, throwing his hands in the air. Turning on his heel, he stomps back through the house, a rapid-fire storm of Spanish curses trailing behind him. He slams the door to his room behind him, then opens it and slams it again.

Erik walks into the living room, staring in Ant’s direction for a long moment before shaking his head and walking to his own room.

Javier comes up, putting his arm around me. “Erik may come to regret scheduling a training session with Ant today.”

I laugh and Javier joins me. Erik has his work cut out for him.

Erik, Javier, and I join Ant on the mats in the back of the therapy barn. The purpose of this first lesson is to show Ant how vulnerable he is. Fortunately—or unfortunately, as the case may be—he’s stronger and far more cunning than any of us have given him credit for.

And he’s still mad as hell, despite the deadly calm he’s trying to display.

I should feel bad saying this, but it’s funny to witness Erik struggling to come to terms with Ant, especially after this morning’s scene. He’s impressed, upset, and maybe a little turned on? We all know he doesn’t understand his own feelings, but it is a little humorous to watch him grapple with his confusion.

I knew Ant would have to find a way to move on from his crush, certain it would never work out between them. However, now that I’m seeing them work together…I’m beginning to think it’s inevitable they’ll end up together.

Even if Erik can’t see it yet.

So…I decide to help him along.

I sidle up next to him. “He’s stronger than I realized,” I note in a neutral tone.

Erik scrunches his nose, annoyed. “He’s too young for this, Lev.”

Biting the inside of my cheek to avoid smiling, I toss back, “Ant never did get to be young.”

“And now, according to Hedy, he’s going through a delayed adolescence.”

“Yeah, maybe. Still, he needs us. People his age don’t understand him, and he’s had to mature much more quickly than would be expected of a guy in his early twenties.”

Erik grunts a semi-acknowledgment and steps onto the mat. Ant has been sharp and focused all afternoon while practicing his sparring moves with Javier and me. I thought he might lose some of his edge when sparring with Erik, but no. If anything, he’s even more determined to prove himself.

Erik makes a move, but Ant anticipates it and ducks the grab, stepping behind the big guy. Snagging his arm, Ant pushes his foot into the back of Erik’s knee, surprising him. Erik flails ineffectively, then lands on his side with a loud thump.

Even better, Ant anticipates the direction of Erik’s fall and dances away so Erik can’t swipe at him from the ground. The shock in Erik’s eyes as Ant puts out his hand is priceless.

Begrudgingly, he takes Ant’s hand, allowing him to help him up, then sneakily uses the contact to pick Ant up and effortlessly toss him over his shoulder. Based on the various fears for Ant’s safety Erik has expressed, I’m guessing he’s trying to prove how easy it would be for a physically superior bad guy to outmaneuver and overpower such a small man.

Javier looks a bit worried, but I grin broadly and gesture for him to keep watching. Erik just set himself up for a world of pain.

Quick as a wink, Ant twists, giving himself the angle to haul one of his legs behind Erik’s head. Since his skinny thigh fits perfectly in the curve of Erik’s neck, crossing his ankles creates a surprisingly effective choke hold. Erik’s nostrils flare as his face goes red.

“Just tap out if you want me to stop,” Ant says casually as he squeezes harder.

Erik grabs his legs and violently throws him about. There’s a brief moment where they look like a pair of ice skaters trying for some complicated spin-lift, but Ant’s hold is solid, and Erik is forced to his knees by lack of oxygen.

After a few ineffective attempts to break the hold, Erik finally taps Ant’s leg twice. Ant unlocks his legs and shifts behind his neck so he’s sitting on Erik’s shoulders. As Erik sucks wind, Ant’s eyes glitter with a self-satisfied triumph.

Javier leans over to whisper, “Erik is on his knees, and my nephew’s feet don’t even skim the mat.”

I crack up, then choke off the laugh when Erik scowls at me.

Mocking his vanquished foe, Ant crosses his ankles on Erik’s chest and his arms on top of Erik’s head. Erik, still breathing hard, brings his hands up Ant’s legs, absentmindedly running his large hands up and down Ant’s muscular calves. Ant’s eyes go a little unfocused before he jerks away from Erik’s hold and hops off his shoulders.

Ant steps off to the side, discreetly adjusting himself. I catch his eye with a raised brow, and he makes a slashing gesture toward his neck, his cheeks coloring.

When Erik finally dusts himself off and gets back on his feet, he approaches Ant, standing over him with narrowed eyes. Ant crosses his arms with a sneer and stares right back up at him.

“Alright. Fine. You paid attention to Levy and Bram’s self-defense classes. But,” he says, holding up a finger, “I wasn’t actually trying to hurt you, so don’t think you have the ability to take down any opponent regardless of size. And we definitely need to do some additional weapons training.”

“Not to mention crime-scene maintenance,” Anders says, walking up to us, pointedly staring at Ant.

I stifle a laugh because he and his crew had a lot to clean up—physically and digitally—with a few of the crime scenes Ant left behind.

Ant gives him his best grimace-emoji face and then gives him the Matrix-style bring it gesture. Anders moves in closer, and Ant’s brows meet in the middle, confused.

Taking advantage, Anders sweeps Ant’s ankles, taking his feet out from underneath him. Ant curses and smacks the mat but hops back up.

“You cut your hair.”

“Actually, I’m growing it back out,” he says with a sly smile.

“What? Wait.” Ant steps in a little closer. “Your beard is shorter.”

Erik grabs his cousin’s shoulder and takes a good look, recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Odd!” he shouts, bringing him in for a back-slapping hug.

Why is he calling him…oh. Oh.

“You’re Anders’ twin brother?” I ask, holding out my hand.

He shakes it, grinning slyly. “That I am.”

Ant’s head drops back. “I forgot there were two of you.”

Odd laughs, shaking his head. “I think we can all agree that my brother is his own man.”

“Then how do you know about the crime scenes?”

Odd’s raised brow pretty much says it all.

“He sent you my files.”

“Yep. I’ll be honest, after watching the video of you killing that guy who was going after Erik, I’m surprised to see how much control you’re showing now. Not many people who get tossed around by my cousin live to tell about it, much less those who best him.”

Ant plucks at his T-shirt, grinning proudly. Understanding crosses his features. “I’m seeing Hedy. You know her, right?”

Odd nods. “She recruited me and Anders.”

“Okay, well, she’s the one who helped me understand that going all rage-beast on someone is a good way to die young. I can take out these assholes much more efficiently and safely if I’m in control of myself. She has me meditating for twenty minutes every morning,” Ant says, gesturing a gag.

Rubbing his chin, Odd responds, “Yeah, she’s got all of us on a meditation routine. It’s annoyingly useful.”

“Exactly.”

“But I do see what you mean. From what I can tell, we’ve got six crime scenes, and you showed major improvements with each subsequent perpetrator. The first one was a bloody mess, but the sixth was pretty good. We only had to switch out the knife, do some light blood-pattern manipulation, and erase the hotel video on that one. I might have you chat with our friend, Parker, regarding logistics so you’ll be better informed.”

“Why do I get the sense I’m still the only one who thinks this is a terrible idea?” Erik grumps.

Odd’s smile is patient. “Because, cousin, you are one of those neurotypical people we’ve heard so much about. Gotta admit, after everything my mom said, it’s disappointing that you’re still throwing up roadblocks.”

“Auntie told you?”

“Of course she did, but she said you’d be cooperative. He’s way better at this stage than Anders and I were. The violence he showed toward your attacker aside, Ant has demonstrated intelligence, a capacity and willingness to learn at a brilliantly fast rate, and a physical strength that outpaces his size.”

“How do we know he won’t go all Helter Skelter on someone again—someone innocent this time?”

Odd turns to Ant. “Can you imagine killing someone innocent?”

Ant shakes his head vigorously. “Absolutely not. I would never.”

Odd sweeps his hand in a there you go gesture, and Erik tips his head back, perhaps praying for guidance.

Finally, he fixes Odd with a stern look, hands on his hips. “Are you saying, having been here for all of thirty seconds, that Ant will never go crazy like that again? That the one and only time he went coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs was on the one guy who was going to kill me?”

Odd darts a look between his cousin and Ant—who seems a little called out by Erik’s words. Odd’s shrewd expression tells me he got it in one. Unlike his brother, who would no doubt tease both of them mercilessly, Odd demurs.

“I’ve watched the tape a few times, cousin. I’ve read Ant’s file, and my conclusion is it was a highly charged situation. You saved Ant from that awful life, and he wasn’t prepared to handle someone trying to harm you. In my opinion, he glitched.”

“Glitched.”

Ant shrinks at Erik’s sarcastic disbelief, and Erik can’t quite maintain his snarky, judgy stance in the face of Ant’s hurt expression.

Odd silently takes in all of this, then continues, “Ant’s better prepared now, Erik. Getting better by the minute. So, as long as you’ve learned not to leave your back exposed—which, by the way, what the fuck was that about?—he should be fine.”

Erik’s jaw drops. “Are you blaming me for what he did?”

Odd draws his chin back. “Have you not seen the video?”

‘Yes, I’ve seen the video,” he mumbles.

“Mm. Let’s watch it again.” Odd pauses to check his pocket and comes up empty. Looking over my shoulder, he calls out, “Hey, DeShaun, baby? Do you have my phone?”

A handsome, solid brick house of a man joins us, his dark, sleek musculature impressive even at rest. He hands Odd the phone, and Odd reaches for a kiss before leaning against DeShaun’s chest.

Javier pulls me into a similar hold, and…fuck, that feels good. We’ve been discreet-ish, but I can’t go long without putting my hands on him. Every time I’m worried I’m being too needy, a quick glance at Javier’s pleased expression tells me he likes it.

After scrolling and finding what he’s looking for, Odd hands Erik his phone.

“Shit, where are my manners? Y’all, this is my husband, DeShaun Blaylock. Everyone calls him DB. He used to work with me and Anders, then he and I decided to stick mostly to the nonviolent private sector.”

DB shakes everyone’s hands while Erik snarls at the video on Odd’s phone. He hands it back, even more disgruntled than when we’d started.

Odd shakes his head. “If Ant hadn’t started running when he did—and he was fucking booking it—he would not have gotten to you in time. He had good instincts, displayed excellent disarming skills, and his knife work was, initially at least, pretty damn good. He didn’t just save your life, Erik. Ant was the only one who knew you were in danger to begin with.”

DB takes the phone from Erik’s hand and replays the video. His bemused chuckle is a deep rumble, and Erik deflates. I suspect he looks up to the man.

“Why don’t you spar with Ant, DB?” Erik grumbles.

Ant’s eyes immediately go to DB’s knee, and he grins wide.

“No, thank you,” DB answers smoothly. “From the look on Ant’s face, I surmise he’s already picked up on the subtle limp. Unfortunately, Ant, if you tried to go after my knee, you’d break your foot. It’s very advanced tech.”

“I’ve always been good at figuring out the weaknesses of stronger men,” Ant says proudly. “Kept me alive.”

Javier’s jaw sharpens, but he’s slowly losing his gut-check reaction to Ant’s truths. Instead, he tightens his grip on me.

“Okay then. What’s my weakness?” Erik grumbles, standing in front of Ant again.

Ant takes an unsteady breath before meeting Erik’s eyes.

“Me.”

“You?”

“Yeah.” Ant’s phone goes off, and he walks toward the table where we dumped all our stuff. “You’d do anything to avoid actually hurting me, which is how I was able to put your ass on the ground. Twice.”

“Technically, I fell on my side the first time and on my knees the second,” he protests as Ant checks the screen.

“It’s Tía and Gael,” he says, thumbing open FaceTime. “Hey, Yaya!”

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“I’m sparring with my friends,” he says, swinging his phone around to show her our faces.

“Hola, hermano,” Yaya says to Javier, grinning as her eyes track his hold on me. “And Levy,”

I smile back. “Hi, y’all.”

Erik waves awkwardly. “Now’s a good time for a break.”

Odd grabs his water bottle. “Perfect. Can someone show me where to fill this up?”

Erik walks him and DB over to our water cooler while Javier and I flank Ant.

They begin speaking to each other in Spanish, following the comfortable rhythm of the last few weeks. According to Yaya, Gael and Ant have the same funny way about them that they did when they were kids—making fun of each other while hyping each other up.

After some small talk, Yaya bites her lip nervously.

Ant frowns. “What’s up, Yaya?”

“We were thinking that if it wouldn’t be too much, we’d like to come up and see you. Maybe next week for your birthday?”

Ant’s smile is ecstatic. “You and Gael, really?”

She nods. “At some point, we’ll all get together, but I think we should keep our reunions small for now. Unless you want to see everyone all at once…”

Ant shakes his head. “I’m looking forward to seeing mis abuelos, but that does feel like a lot.”

Erik steps in behind us, and Gael’s eyes go big. “Oh my God, is that him? He’s enormous.”

Ant shushes him. “Yes, but shut up.”

“I’m not that tall,” grumbles the six-and-a-half-foot Norwegian, responding in Spanish.

We all freeze up. It’s easy to forget Erik has a decent-ish handle on the language.

“If you want to come up next week, I can fly down and grab you.”

Ant and I are both a little shocked by Erik’s offer.

“Grab us?” my sister asks.

“Yes. I have access to a plane and a private airfield not too far from you. That way you don’t have to worry about travel. Or documentation, for that matter.”

Ant’s eyes light up, the anger from this morning gone in a puff of smoke. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

Erik rolls his eyes and grips Ant’s shoulders, then jokingly pulls him into a half nelson. “Of course I would.”

Odd and DB are walking up, but they pause as Erik manhandles Ant. Yeah, they see it. We all see it.

Erik and Yaya talk it out for a few more minutes and decide that Tuesday is the best day to pick them up. After saying their goodbyes—with a fair amount of teasing between Ant and Gael—we return to the training.

Taking advantage of our guests, we let DB lead the weapons training. While the horses are all trained to be nonreactive to weapons fire, we take it out past the barn to some hay bales set up by the tree line.

I worry about Domino, but he’s standing there, stoically judging us. That’s good information.

Surprising nobody, Ant is an excellent shot. He has steady hands and controls the kickback on even the larger caliber guns. He does lose his balance with the shotgun, but Erik’s standing right behind him and catches him before he eats dirt.

When Erik leans down and whispers a correction in Ant’s ear, surrounding him to adjust his hold, Ant leans back into his arms for a second. Confusion crosses Erik’s face, but he tightens his hold. Javier bites his knuckle, then pulls me closer, surreptitiously palming my belly while nosing my ear.

The next time Ant pulls the trigger on the shotgun, he’s solid on his feet. Erik’s chest rises sharply and Javier clamps his hand over his mouth.

After a while, it starts to sprinkle, so we move back into the barn. Ant shows DB and Odd his knife-handling skills, and DB tilts his hand from side to side. “You’ve got great instincts but haven’t practiced your techniques enough. For the next few weeks, try this order: meditation, knife work, gun work. It’s a good progression for learning.”

“That makes sense. My hands are kinda numb from all the shooting.”

Nodding in agreement, Odd continues, “Depending on the scenario, you’re usually shooting first and then cleaning up the stragglers in hand-to-hand combat with a knife, so once you’re a bit more skilled, go in reverse order. That’ll help you to translate your skills to hands that aren’t as sharp.”

“Then meditate?” Ant verifies.

“Yes. Acclimate to recentering yourself after violence. One violent scenario may well lead to another, and your nervous system can better manage it if you’re properly centered. Even though you don’t have a typical trauma response to enacting violence on the deserving, you still want to ensure you’re not left in an unsettled state.”

“Huh,” Ant says, stroking his jaw. “This is why they call you the sane one.”

“True, but my brother isn’t insane. He just compartmentalizes pranks and murder better than most people.”

We all laugh and get back to the training. Ant picks up on everyone’s suggestions rather quickly, and it’s funny to watch Erik’s conflicted expression as Ant blows past milestone after milestone.

Javier sidles up next to me, hooking his thumb in my belt buckle while his large hand grips my hip. “Erik can’t tell if he’s proud or upset.”

I crack up, and he kisses my temple. Erik snarls at us, though I doubt he understands why we’re laughing.

By the end, we’re all sweaty and proud, though no one is prouder than Ant, who’s started calling this psycho school. I’d protest his characterization, but next week’s lessons will be with Anders. I’m not the only one who finds that a little terrifying.

Still, I’m encouraged by what Ant showed us today. I’ve secretly shared some of Erik’s sentiments, but Ant is proving equal to the task. Call me crazy, but I think working with this team is the thing he’s meant to do.

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