Before Stryker could stop him, Dakota was on the phone to Providence.
The patrolwoman arrived and called out Stryker’s blood-stained arm. “You need an ambulance?”
“I’m fine,” Stryker replied.
The Sunday-Funday crew showed up at the playground, concerned etched on his family’s faces as they took in the scene.
After the cop took Stryker’s statement, she asked, “You pressing charges?”
Stryker slid his gaze to the now scared-looking kid. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, man, thank you so much. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I stabbed you.”
“Make smarter choices,” Stryker said.
“I’ll take you back to your parents or guardians,” the cop said to the kid. “Since you attacked this man, I’m cuffing you.”
The teen didn’t resist when the cop slapped cuffs on him, then led him away.
“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Uncle Gordon said, examining the stab wound. “You need stitches.”
“Let’s go home,” Stryker said. “I got a better idea.”
As the family walked back to the house, Stryker was grateful Tyler didn’t hover or act like a concerned father. He knew his place. He was the Omega.
Once back at the house, Stryker found fast-sealing super adhesive glue. He handed it to Dakota. “We’ll use this to patch me up.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Gordon said. “You need stitches.”
“Back in a minute,” Stryker said.
He shut the bathroom door and yanked off his shirt, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. After washing the wound, he found Dakota on the screened-in porch.
“Close ‘er up,” Stryker said.
Dakota worked quickly to seal the wound.
“I’ve never seen that done before,” Tyler said. “Pretty cool.” His phone rang. Instead of answering, he excused himself and vanished inside.
“I really wish you’d gone to the hospital,” Gordon said.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been glued back together,” Stryker said to his uncle.
With the wound sealed, Stryker pulled on his shirt and poured himself a scotch. While he’d downplayed the incident because he wasn’t going to the hospital, his arm was throbbing pretty good.
He and Dakota headed into the backyard, where Providence was watching the kids.
“You should have walked away,” Providence said.
“I did walk away,” Stryker replied.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asked.
“Nothing a little liquid medicine won’t cure.” Stryker raised the glass and downed the booze. “I’ve reached my limit for fun. I’m taking off.”
“Stay out of trouble,” Providence said.
“It follows me,” Stryker said, before pulling Dakota in for a bro-hug and kissing Providence on the forehead.
