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

I pat myself on the back for being a mature adult and not sneaking into Javier’s room last night. Sure, I may have lingered outside his door for a few harrowing moments, but I retained my self-control. Unfortunately, so did he.

Bastard.

I was equally impressed in the shower this morning when I shot myself in the eye with my own cum.

Ugh. Why did I insist on upholding a completely made-up restriction? Javier was probably really upset after finding out Ant is a murderer and could have used a little sexual healing.

Thankfully, breakfast is going well. Ant’s cooking for us and has a fresh pot of coffee ready. Elias joins us about halfway through. He shares a smile with Ant but more or less avoids Javier and me. He also has dark circles under his eyes, and I doubt he got much sleep.

The boys get ready for the day, and I doctor my coffee while procrastinating so I can smell Javier’s cologne. My diabolical plan works brilliantly before immediately backfiring when he joins me in the kitchen and places his hand on my hip to reach around for the carafe, keeping it there as he pours his coffee.

“Stop it,” I hiss, leaning into his touch.

“Stop what?” he asks, not even close to innocently nosing the edge of my ear.

“We have an agreement,” I whine, exposing my neck to the gentle caress of his lips before regaining my sanity and stepping away from him. “You’re the one who said ‘carnal pursuits of the one-night variety.’ I’m just holding up my end of the bargain.”

Huh. Is that cologne, or is that how he smells?

No, Levy. You will not go back to double-check.

I rest my ass on the counter and cross my arms, my mug of coffee in my hand like a shield. The amused quirk of his lips might as well be his hand stroking my cock. Javier stands in front of me, mirroring my posture as he calmly sips his coffee.

“Let me guess. Agreements—that is to say, silly turns of phrase said in the heat of the moment—are written in stone.”

Lifting my shoulder, I answer, “I find it prevents heartache in the end.”

“Whose heartache?”

“Mine,” I admit. “I’m…I would very much like to be in a relationship, but that’s not what life’s giving me right now,” I say, gesturing at him. “I have to follow the rules or get clobbered.”

Javier takes a deep breath and a step back.

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“I hear you. I’m not a relationship person, but you are…probably a little too appealing. Apologies for the flirting.”

I let out a huff. “At least I still got it.”

“That you do.”

Cracking up, I gesture him away from me. “Get the fuck out of here.”

He sends me a wink that weakens my knees, then starts toward his bedroom as Bram walks in for his session with Elias. I’m glad I don’t have to explain to my brother the weird closeness Javier and I had just seconds before. Because if I had done what I wanted to, Bram would have walked in on me climbing Javier like a fucking tree or desperately on my knees, slobbering on his cock like it was the last time I’d ever be able to give a blowjob.

I drift at the visuals…

Bram grabs his coffee, and we wait for Javier, Elias, and Ant to join us before walking to the barn. Since Ant is off work, he’d normally be helping out with the horses, but Bram has asked him to join Elias’s session. We have specialists trained in translating this type of session, but I think Bram wants to observe Ant in a more clinical setting to see a few things for himself.

It’s the kind of workaround that makes me deeply uncomfortable, but Bram seems to have embraced it as a function of working in this environment. Of course I have my own session with Elias and Ant scheduled, but I maintain that’s because Ant will be helping with the horse.

Hm. Maybe my brother and I aren’t so different after all.

I scrub my unkempt beard and rake my fingers through my hair, which I’ve forgotten to brush.

Seriously, Lev. Pull yourself together.

After taking care of some paperwork, I make my way to the quarantine paddock, where Charlie joins me. We check on Domino in his stall, and he’s less than thrilled to see us. I repeat what I’d done yesterday—going to the other side of the paddock and sitting down with treats.

The sugar cubes may have been the hero of the hour yesterday, but they are doing jack-all today. Not only does he ignore me in favor of remaining in his stall, but he also nips Charlie in the shoulder and would have kicked him square in the thigh had I not jumped up and pulled him away right in time.

We take a break, and then I coax him out of his stall with a few treats. When I get him into the paddock, however, he nips at my overalls, neighing when he manages to unbuckle the bib, then takes off for the opposite side.

“So…he’ll work with me, but only sorta, and only when I’m bribing him with treats,” I crack, which Charlie only finds moderately amusing.

Shaking his head, he puts his hands on his hips, then steps to the side when Domino charges him before angling toward the other side of the paddock again.

“I don’t think I’ve seen any of us struggle with a horse like this,” I observe.

Charlie shakes his head. “Only other horse I’ve heard of with this same issue was Luke’s.”

“Sprite?” I ask, remembering the pretty white horse with the sweet disposition.

He nods. “She threw Luke in a bucking competition, then kicked out and broke his hip. Her owners sold her for scraps, so Sparrow went in and got her. She was too dangerous to examine, and only Luke was able to get close enough to put together that she was pregnant. Once they started using pregnancy protocols and put her in the right environment, she got way better. Sparrow had to give her a wide berth for a long time, and I have a feeling Domino will be the same.”

“But nothing’s physically wrong with him,” I point out, frustrated. “He did eventually let Lynn examine him, right?”

“Yep. She said he’s perfectly healthy. Disdainful, but healthy.”

We share a laugh because, oof. The accuracy. I still don’t think anything’s wrong with him though.

“I wonder if Domino would do well with other horses?” Charlie asks, watching as Domino proudly trots around the fenced-in space.

“He did fine with me yesterday.”

Charlie toes the dirt, brows wrinkled in concentration. After a moment, he holds up a finger. “You started on the ground.”

“Yeah, same as today. Made myself seem small at first. He was okay when I stood up yesterday. Today, not so much.”

“Domino’s smart. You’re not fooling him by sitting down anymore,” Charlie reasons, shaking his head. “Lynn’s about average height for a woman. Several inches shorter than either of us.”

I tap my chin. “I don’t remember—how was Domino around Luke when he was here?”

Charlie thinks about it for a moment. “He was…I dunno, mostly avoiding him like he was the rest of us. Sparrow mentioned that Luke’s charms hadn’t worked on him, but I don’t think Domino was aggressive toward him.”

“Hm. Luke’s about Lynn’s height, but if Domino didn’t have a good reaction to him, maybe it’s because he hates men?”

“Maybe.” Charlie brings the tips of his fingers together. “Luke also didn’t have treats with him yesterday. Could be another variable.”

“You think the Rodeo King would be interested in trying again? It’s risky, but it might be worth a shot.”

“I’m sure he would if only to lord it over the tall folks, but he and Sparrow are out at Rodeo Austin for the Queer Family Days or something like that.”

“Shit. That’s right.”

Charlie and I mull it over for a second, and I snap my fingers. The answer is obvious.

“Ant.”

Charlie pulls on the leather necklace he always wears and nods along with me. “You know…he’s come so far with the horses, this might be a really good way for him to, I dunno. Level up?”

I’m already pulling out my phone.

Me: Hey, you have a minute? Wanna help me and Charlie out with Domino?

Ant: Sure. I’ll be right over.

A few minutes later, he comes walking up with Javier, wearing a shit-eating grin.

Sidling up next to me, Ant lowers his voice. “My tío wanted to join us. I assume that’s okay with you?”

I scrunch my nose at him. “Yep. That’s great. Hey, Javier.”

“Hey, Levy,” Javier says, lifting his chin with a fucking underwear-melting smile.

Ant snorts, and I smack his shoulder before letting him in the gate. “I’m putting you in this paddock with a dangerous horse to see if he’ll respond to your short ass better than the rest of us normal-sized folks. This could go really badly for you.”

He cracks up. “Whatever. You love me. You’d step in front of a moving train for me.”

“True.”

In the meantime, Javier walks up next to Charlie, resting his forearms on the gate to watch us work. Shaking off the nerves that always seem to crop up in his vicinity, I grab an apple and split it in two. Domino comes up right away, so I tuck half in the front pocket of my overalls and give Ant the other half, which he sets out on an open palm.

Domino quickly takes the apple, crunching on it while side-eyeing me. Ant slowly runs his hand up and down Domino’s long nose. Domino steps toward him with a rasping, inquiring snort.

Ant stiffens, but then Domino nudges his head, snuffling around, likely looking for the other half of the apple. Laughing, Ant steps in closer, completely unconcerned by the fact he’s dwarfed by the large horse. I probably should have given Ant more specific directions, but his instincts are spot on.

With flat palms, he strokes Domino’s neck on both sides. Domino stands quietly, letting himself be touched, and I sneak a glance over to Charlie, who looks as impressed as I feel. Domino makes a happy little snorting sound, then tucks his head down against Ant’s back, the equine equivalent of a hug.

“I bet he’ll let you walk him around the paddock,” I whisper, loving the joy and pride in his eyes.

Ant steps back to grab the reins, and Domino turns his attention to me, sniffing at my overalls, no doubt smelling the other half of the apple. I laugh as he nudges my chest.

“Uh-uh, buddy. You get that after you let Ant walk you around.”

Domino, ignoring my very reasonable counteroffer, nudges me again, this time a little harder.

“Hey, man.” I rub his nose and try to put some command in my voice. “Don’t be so aggressive.”

When I still don’t produce the apple, he blows in frustration and roughly nudges my head, snapping it to the side, setting off an old neck injury. I grimace and step back, my hand automatically going to the spasming muscles.

Shit, shit, shit. When my neck flares up, everything else flares up right alongside it, a rapid-fire stream of snapshots.

The screeching of the eighteen-wheeler’s tires, shuddering and bouncing with the sudden stop.

My father practically standing on the brake while my mother throws her hands up over her face.

The sharp, nauseating sound of metal being sheared off the car.

The wide-eyed look of abject fear on Bram’s face.

The impact that snaps my head back so violently I thought I’d broken my neck.

Bram unconscious, his body seemingly lifeless as blood spills down his face, soaking his shirt.

The growing pool of blood at my feet, seeping from Mom’s seat.

The lonely, ragged sound of my own breathing, so loud in my ears.

The flashback is over in seconds, but for some reason, I’m in the dirt. Blinking away the fog, I’m aware of Ant’s soft voice saying my name, accompanied by the sound of boots thundering toward me.

Ah, fuck.

“I’m fine,” I say before even trying to right myself. Before verifying the three sets of worried eyes looking down on me. “I’m fine. Just a reaction. I’m not injured.”

I’ve been working on managing my tendency to faint at the sight of large amounts of blood. It’s been mostly working in the real world, but remembering the sticky sensation of my mom’s blood on my shoes still gets me.

Oh fuck. I lean forward, vomiting breakfast.

So. Yeah. Still a ways to go.

Too embarrassed to look anyone in the eyes, I hold up my hand as I rise to my knees. “I’m fine. Just, you know, my brain being overly dramatic.”

A canteen gets pushed into my hands, and I take a drink, swishing the cool water around my mouth before spitting it out and taking another drink, swallowing this time.

Javier’s large, capable hand finds its way into my field of vision, and I take it, letting him help me up. Still avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry, guys,” I babble. “I just…this happens sometimes. Super rare, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

Embarrassed, I check on Ant, who I’ve probably traumatized for life. Thankfully, he only looks a little worried as he gives my arm a comforting pat.

“Sorry, buddy.”

“I’m okay, Levy. I know stuff with the accident comes up sometimes. Literally,” he says, chuckling as he thumbs a gesture over to the mess I’ve left on the ground.

“Accident?” Javier asks, stepping in front of me, his heavy hands landing carefully on my shoulders.

Avoiding his eyes, I check on Domino, who’s now on the other side of the paddock, and…yeah. There goes whatever progress we’ve made with him. That becomes a little less important when Javier gently massages my shoulders while smelling like leather and the Central Texas heat.

“You okay?” Javier asks, concern in his eyes. “Tell me about this accident.”

I stitch my brows together, realizing I assumed he would know. As if he were already a fixture in my life and this detail is something I’d have told him a long time ago.

But there is no long time ago. No permanent anything.

“Um, yeah,” I say, sending an apologetic look to Charlie. He’s got his arm around Ant and sends me his chill-it’s-okay gesture. “Parents were dropping us off at college, and yeah. Ran into the back of an eighteen-wheeler. Me and Bram lived. They didn’t.”

I chance a look into Javier’s eyes only to catch the hurt lancing across his expression. As if the loss of my parents somehow impacts him too.

I rush to explain, “My neck normally doesn’t bother me, but if I haven’t slept well or I’m stressed out, it can flare.”

It still shocks me how sharp the memory of that day continues to be all these years later.

“Does the pain take you back?” Javier asks, a little too perceptively.

I clench my jaw, which sends another bright stab of pain down my neck and shoulders. “Yes, it does.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, continuing to gently massage my neck.

Stifling a groan and the urge to shake my head, I keep my answer simple.

“No.”

Thankfully he doesn’t press the issue.

Charlie, who knows I don’t like to belabor these incidents, has walked off a little way and is talking with Ant. Javier takes a few deep breaths, and I follow along, letting his presence soothe me. I usually handle the recovery on my own, and it’s surprisingly nice to have someone help me through it.

A few minutes later, Charlie and Ant walk up to us, smiling. “I think we’ve got a solid plan of action,” Charlie says, looking proud.

Ant grins, practically giddy about the opportunity to show off his horse-whisperer skills.

“Just call me Sparrito.”

Little Sparrow.

Javier cracks up, and my brain, still not quite in the present moment, reminds me that Sparrow was a teenager when he moved to the States, just like Ant. Only…Sparrow came here with a loving, supportive family and Ant’s circumstances couldn’t have been more different.

Sparrow and I have chatted on many occasions, and his recall of his years in Mexico is wonderful, but more importantly, it’s sharp. Precise. Ant often questions his own memories. He only has fuzzy recollections of happy Christmases and lonely days in his father’s family compound.

His sharpest memory is of a man with bloodshot eyes handing his grandfather a stack of cash.

Suddenly, Bram’s stoic, brotherly voice is in my head. “I see you’ve redirected your thinking to work out someone else’s trauma. That’s a neat trick.”

Gee, thanks, Dr. Barlowe.

“Hey, can I have the other half of the apple?” Ant asks, pulling on my front pocket.

Blinking back to the present—for real this time—I bat away his hands with a laugh and produce the apple, along with a few sugar cubes. Charlie walks over, understanding filling his far-too-insightful eyes.

“You have a few therapy sessions lined up for later, right?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, then. Go back to the bunkhouse and clean up, then lie down for a bit. I’ll take over here with Ant and Javier.”

I dart a quick glance at Javier, who shifts on his feet. I bet if I asked him to accompany me, to lie down with me and hold me against his body while my nervous system resets, he absolutely would.

But Ant needs his uncle, and I’m a grown adult who can—minor vomiting incident aside—self-regulate.

“Um, okay. Let me clean up this mess first.”

Charlie holds up his hand. “Nope. Me and Ant will take care of it. Don’t you worry about anything except getting right for your clients.”

His words are gentle and friendly, but he’s definitely in boss-mode right now.

“You got it, Charlie. Thanks. And, uh, sorry.”

I send Javier a little wave and then head back to the bunkhouse.

Charlie was right. I needed the time to decompress before seeing my clients. By the time I make it out to the therapy barn, Javier is chatting with one of the volunteers and being introduced to the horses we work with.

I smile when I see he’s wearing a Wild Heart T-shirt. We’re a little overcautious with quarantined horses, and I’d bet my paycheck the volunteer—Junior Underwood’s younger sibling, Lyle—made him wash up and change shirts.

I sidle up to Lyle and hold out my fist. “Nice job getting him a T-shirt at least one size too small.”

Grinning, Lyle slyly bumps my fist. “All in a day’s work here at the Wild Heart Equine Therapy and Rescue Center.”

I stifle a laugh, and Javier raises his brows as I pass him to set up for my first patient of the day.

“You okay?”

My cheeks flush. “Oh…yeah. Sorry about that. I—”

He holds up his hands with a kind smile. “No need to explain yourself. I’m glad to see you looking better.”

“Thanks,” I say quickly, then turn toward the stalls before my body reacts to all of Javier’s…Javier-ness.

I’m looking forward to my first patient, a woman in her mid-forties. She’s very successful, though she had kind of a shitty childhood and suspects it’s been holding her back. I suspect she doesn’t understand how successful she is. Overachievers are often unable to acknowledge their own achievements.

In the back of my head, my brother raises his eyebrow at me.

I grab Luna, another gorgeous Rebel Sky bay, and walk her out to the training area.

“Do you have your sessions out here in the open?” Javier asks, leaning on the fence. “I’d love to observe, but I don’t want to invade someone’s privacy.”

While he would learn more from observing one of our frequent guests from Charlie’s and Erik’s ops, most are not of age. Those that are don’t usually have enough confidence to say no when something is asked of them. Molly will have no such issue.

I nod. “I use my office for clients who need a private space to talk, but my patient this morning knows everyone who works or volunteers here understands patient confidentiality. This is a safe space where she can speak freely, so we always start with the horses. Let’s see if she’s okay with you staying.”

Molly walks in, and I introduce her to Javier.

“This is one of my friends who helps on the rescue side of things. He’s interested in observing an equine therapy session, but I’ve got several sessions this week, so you’re under no obligation.”

She regards him critically, looking every inch the boss she is. “Are you going to be a judgmental asshole?”

I stifle a grin, wishing she could see what a badass she really is.

“Absolutely not,” he answers, his demeanor serious and respectful.

“Then I’m fine with it.”

He moves off to the other end of the arena, leaning against the fencing. Petting Luna’s long neck, Molly immediately confesses she’s been off. Not sleeping, agitated, ready to lash out at the next person who tests her patience.

It turns out her mother has been showing signs of dementia and needing more care. None of her siblings are in a position to help, and Molly—who was always the target of her mother’s nastiness—resents having to help at all.

Luna, who was a champ in her recent startle-response training—remains laid-back as Molly carefully brushes her coat while venting her frustrations and fears about back-sliding into that version of herself who struggled with self-esteem.

While brushing Luna’s chest, Molly breaks down and leans into Luna’s neck, giving her a hug as she quietly cries. Luna bends her neck to deepen the hug and stands patiently while Molly works it out.

After several moments, Molly steps back, looking surprised by her display of emotion. We quietly talk about how she’s having a genuinely normal response to a tough situation. With that, I help her saddle up Luna, and we go for a few turns around the training space.

By the end of the session, her cheeks are flushed from riding and her eyes sparkle.

“You know, when I first met you, with all of your tattoos and piercings, I was skeptical,” she says, dismounting smoothly. “But this has been the most useful therapy I’ve ever attempted.”

“That’s the magic of the tattoos,” I joke with a broad gesture. “Or maybe it’s just that horses are excellent co-regulating partners.”

“Or maybe that,” she responds, laughing as she pulls off her riding gloves.

We say goodbye and schedule our next appointment in two weeks. Javier follows me into my office as I make notes, set the appointment, and pull up the file on my next patient.

“You are really good at what you do,” he says, casually leaning against the doorframe with his ankles crossed.

My cheeks flush at the compliment. “Thanks. I’m glad I found something I like as much as this.”

“Will you do a horse therapy session with Elias before he goes?”

I nod, finalizing the online forms for insurance. “I’ve got a session with him and Ant on the books. I think he’ll like it.”

“I’ve spent the last ten years hunting down the assholes who cull kids from their neighborhoods. It’s…” He pauses to rub his chest, something embarrassingly close to hero worship in his eyes. “It’s a privilege to see what happens on this side of the equation.”

Straightening, my eyes meet his and get lost in their sincerity.

“Um, thanks.” I shove my hands into my pockets so they don’t suddenly develop a mind of their own. “That means a lot. I wish we could help more people though.”

His smile causes crinkles to form at the edges of his eyes. “Me too. Maybe that’s something we can work on together.”

I swallow thickly, rocking on my feet, hoping it looks like I’ve got some semblance of self-control. Given the way his eyes land on the fluttering vein in my neck, probably not.