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

Being a part of Wild Heart means I’ve been through a few of these reunification calls. They’re never easy but almost always joyful. Still, regardless of the number of times I’ve supported one of these calls, I get nervous as fuck, mostly because I have to look like the one who has it all together.

Me, the guy in the nineties pop band T-shirt with gauges and tattoos everywhere. Who would’ve thought?

It doesn’t help that I’m working with Javier to set up Ant’s call with his family. Javier’s so fucking hot that it makes me nervous, and his deep rich accent is killing me.

“Are you okay?” Javier asks, his hand on my back, his head bent toward mine. “You look nervous. Should I be nervous?”

I suck in a deep breath, unnerved by his…everything. “I—yes. I mean, no. You don’t have to be nervous. I’m nervous because Ant is important to us, and I really want this to go well for him. I’m fine though. Thanks for asking,” I say, smiling as my eyes fall to his lush lips, enjoying the way they curve into an understanding smile.

Oh my God, focus.

“Good. I’m nervous too,” he says, running his hand up and down my back, leaning in close enough that I can see his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It helps to know I’m not alone in that.”

I snort-laugh because, of course, then gesture to the bathroom and sort of awkwardly walk off. Keep your fucking head in the game, you putz.

As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror, wondering what he must think of me. Also, the veins in my neck are pulsing.

Time to pretend I know what I’m doing.

Javier sent a text to his family, preparing them for a FaceTime call. His sister lives next to their parents, so they’ll be ready for the call a little faster than I thought they would be.

Taking Javier to the side to explain how these calls go, I try not to shiver when his hand automatically goes to my back. “I usually like to talk to the parents beforehand and set a few guidelines so it’s a good conversation and we don’t start by going into…”

“All the shit that happened to me?” Ant asks, and Javier steps away from me, taking his hand with him.

Ant’s shrewd eyes track between Javier and me as he pushes his tongue against his cheek. I send him a surreptitious cut-it gesture, and he steps in close to me, wordlessly asking for a hug, something he’s been doing more and more of. I immediately wrap my arms around him.

“Exactly, and…”—I hesitate, waiting for his full attention—“if things go a little sideways, no using some horrible factoid to trauma-bomb people, yeah?”

He grumbles under his breath, then answers, “I don’t do that anymore. Hedy already said I couldn’t because somebody told on me.”

Guilty.

“Or,” I say, my hands approximating a sorry-not-sorry gesture, “someone with an advanced degree in clinical psychology realized what you were doing and shared that relevant information with a valued member of your care team.”

He narrows his eyes.

“It was the comment about the foot-fucker, wasn’t it?”

Thinning my lips, I send him a determined headshake. “That’d be the one with the spiders, my man. I fucking hate spiders. Kept waking up thinking something was crawling on my skin for a whole week after that.”

I shiver at the recollection.

He pulls a face and nods along. “Okay, fair. That one was bad. Especially the one time he lost his balance and squished his favorite tarantula. He was inconsolable.”

“Fuck you for that,” I say, flicking his forehead as he cackles into his hand. “And that is a perfect example of something you will not be saying to your abuelita.”

He rolls his eyes but also gives me another crushing hug. At the same time, I check on Javier, grinning.

Ah, shit.

His chin is lowered, and he’s tapping his forehead, his eyes and mouth downturned. We’ve just trauma-bombed him in the exact way I’d been trying to avoid.

Therapist of the year here, folks.

I catch his eye, and he tries to gesture away the emotion crashing down on him, but then his face collapses in grief, sharp and awful. He grips his collar, and Ant is blissfully unaware his uncle is silently sobbing behind him.

“Is this really happening?” Ant asks, laying his head on my shoulder. “Am I really going to talk to my abuelita right now?”

Javier’s eyes search for mine, locking our gazes as though it’s the one thing anchoring him to this moment. I take a few calming breaths, which Ant and Javier follow instinctively. Javier tilts his head back, silently staring at the ceiling as he pulls himself together.

“It is.” I wind my arms around Ant. “This is really happening and, according to every report we’ve got, these are really good people. I’m still going in first with Javier to get a lay of the land and set some boundaries. My job today is to make sure this is a really good call for you too.”

“Thanks, Levy. Seeing you work with the other folks…I realize how lucky I am to have you in my corner now.”

Javier nods along to Ant’s words, tapping his chest. Thank you, he mouths. I send him a wink and mess with Ant’s hair.

“Yeah, well, if you make me cry before we call tus abuelos, they’re going to think we have bad news.”

Javier gives a wry chuckle, gesturing to himself. “I’ve been crying all night, so they’re going to take one look at my face and worry I have bad news anyway. I need Levy on the call smiling so they know it’s good news.”

Ant draws his chin back, turning to face his uncle, who looks remarkably put together despite the emotional breakdown he just had. “You cried last night?”

“I couldn’t sleep for how much I cried last night,” he says, grasping Ant’s shoulder with a large hand.

“I don’t want you to cry for me like that.”

Javier and I share a look, along with a soft laugh.

I shake my head. “Sorry, buddy. You went through some awful shit, and with what we know of your uncle now, he understands more than almost anyone. He’s going to cry. Your family is going to cry. That’s how we get better.”

Ant’s disgruntled look makes me laugh. “That’s such bullshit. It’s like those assholes are still hurting people even after it’s over.”

“Nope. All this ugly stuff is healing. They’re not doing a damn thing at this point. You are putting yourself back together brick by brick. Literally, every tear is washing them out of your cells. That’s not them winning. That’s them losing.”

“You really think so?”

“Ant, I know so. Hell, every skin cell on your body is brand new. Your eyebrows and eyelashes were done with those assholes, like, a month after Charlie and Erik rode in like big damn heroes. Your nails are like bitch, I don’t even know you.”

Ant laughs, so I keep going.

“When you cut off your ponytail, bro…I was so proud of you. Those shit stains have never seen this version of you. And sure, your organs and brain cells are gonna take a little longer to fully process them out of your system, but fucking cry, dude. Everything about your body tells them, ‘Fuck you, I survived.’ Own that shit.”

More satisfying than his laugh is the proud little smile on his lips. He knows I’m not bullshitting him. Even Javier seems a little brighter, which makes me inexplicably happier. I grab his hand and squeeze it. He squeezes back and sends me a grateful look.

Ant chucks my shoulder, and I refocus. “Do you always curse this much with your clients?”

“Fuck yeah,” I say, bringing him in for a noogie.

“Ugh,” he complains, batting my hands away. “You suck.”

“Whatever. You love me.”

“That too,” he says, turning to hug Javier.

Given his reticence with most people around hugs, seeing him so readily hug Javier makes me wonder if his body recognizes family, love, and safety. I’m not sure I would’ve guessed that for him when he first moved into the bunkhouse, but I sure as fuck am happy to see it.

After a long moment, Ant takes a deep breath and squares up.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

We set up in the living room, and Erik grabs a little tripod from his junk drawer. We set up the camera in landscape for the best view and start with Ant sitting off to the side while Javier and I are next to each other. Erik leans in to give Ant a quick back rub, then steps off to the side, hovering.

“You ready?” I ask Javier, taking in his rugged features. Despite the tragedies this family has experienced, most of the lines on his face seem to be from smiling.

He looks exhausted and grief-stricken but radiant, if such a thing is possible. God, if people could see how beautiful recovery can be, I wonder if they would still let its brutality stop them from trying.

Answering with a nod, he wraps his arm around my shoulders for a quick squeeze. “Thank you for what you’ve done and what you’re doing now for our family.”

I shrug, uncomfortable as ever with receiving gratitude. “I love Ant like a brother, and I’m glad he’s getting some part of his life back.”

Javier swallows thickly and wipes away a tear.

I bump his shoulder with mine. “You can’t start crying now. You’ll be a mess before we even get them on the line.”

He snort-laughs, wiping another tear. “That’s the thing about the Hernández family. We’re a bunch of criers.”

“Then let’s get this weep-fest on the road.”

Reaching to adjust a runaway bit of hair over my ear, he laughs. “You know, for a guy with gauges, enough visible piercings to make me wonder what else you’ve got pierced, and this many tattoos, you’re sort of a softy. Not to mention funny.”

“The mods keep out the normal folks,” I whisper out the side of my mouth. “Plus, the humor keeps people on their toes.”

Javier nods along, biting his lip. “Thank God I’m not normal.”

Ant’s eyes track to my ears, which are probably some shade of fire-engine red. Thank God the beard is covering the worst of the blushing I’m doing right now. I ignore Ant’s raised brow and try to calm myself.

This is a serious call, Lev. You’re the one with the PhD. Act like it.

I don’t even want to imagine what the veins in my neck are doing, and I need to get a hold of myself. A little difficult, given how everything in my body is either contracting inward or flushing outward, but I’ve gotta lock my shit down.

Javier tilts his phone in my direction. It’s a text from his sister. They’re all gathered at the grandparents’ house and ready for the call. He hits the button for FaceTime, and the three of us wait, tense as the call connects.

Javier begins in Spanish, and I’m surprised by how well I’m able to follow along.

“Mom and Dad, I have a friend here. His name is Levy. He speaks and understands Spanish, but go slow for him, okay?”

“Okay, son. What is this about?”

“I have amazing news. I have found Antonio. He is alive, and he is well,” he says, his voice cracking.

There are five faces on the phone—Ant’s grandparents, his aunt and her husband, and his cousin—and all five break. Hands go to mouths, eyes redden, tears fall. Beautiful exclamations and shouting.

“Where is he? When can we see him?” his grandmother asks.

Javier looks at me, and I go ahead with my tentative Spanish.

“He is here right now. I am a therapist, and he came to live with us a while ago. He has been through a lot, but he is an amazing man. He definitely wants to talk to you, but we are asking you to not ask him to talk about his experiences at this time, okay?”

Five heads immediately nod.

“We can talk about those things later,” his grandfather says. “What we need more than anything is to see his face and to know he is okay.”

I look over at Ant, giving him a small nod. Pausing for a quick breath, he shifts next to Javier and sends them a small wave. Hands go to mouths, exclamations get louder, and the phone on their side falls over. We all laugh, and someone with a shaking hand puts the phone back on whatever was holding it in place. Soon enough, five people are leaning in, trying to get a better look at the boy they lost.

I reach out and widen my fingers on the screen so it’s just Javier and Ant in view.

“He looks like Gigi.”

“No, he looks like Gael.”

“He looks exactly as he did when he was eleven.”

Ant’s eyes drop to his hands in his lap. Comparisons to a younger version of himself are difficult. He was purposefully made to look younger than his age to satisfy the desires of the people who kept him.

It’s his aunt, Yaya, who says, “No. He looks like his own man. So handsome. How are you, Antonio?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out save for an aborted sigh. He looks over at Javier, who puts his arm around him. Everybody takes a couple of breaths, and Ant tries again.

“I…uh. I’m doing really well now. I have this big, crazy family made up of people who save people like me. They’ve been so amazing.”

“Your Spanish is still so good,” his grandma says, her smile encouraging.

“I kept it safe in my head, where they couldn’t take it.”

His family nods, the words still hard to come by. It’s his cousin, Gael, who pushes forward.

“Primo, who gave you that shaggy haircut?”

Ant cracks up. “I did. I had it in a ponytail for a really long time.” His eyes flick to Erik, then back to the screen. “But I realized I didn’t need it anymore, so I cut it off.”

“Super dramatically,” I say, still off-camera.

Ant sticks his tongue out at me, then continues, “Okay, I was a little dramatic, but I watched a bunch of TikTok videos, so I knew what I wanted.”

Yaya and Gael laugh, but the grandparents look confused.

“Is this like the YouTubes with instructions for tying a fishing lure?” his grandfather asks.

Gael and Ant share a look. “Yes, Grandpa, it’s like that. There are instructional videos on how to cut hair. Maybe Antonio should have watched a few more.”

Ant runs his fingers through his hair, not fazed a bit. “It’s quite fashionable, Gael. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, who are you to talk about my hair when you’ve got this slicked-back thing happening?”

“Shut up! I was dragged out of the shower for this. You’re lucky I’m wearing clothes.”

“We’re all lucky you’re wearing clothes,” Ant cracks, giving as good as he’s getting. It’s a peek into his past, seeing how easily he and his cousin go back and forth.

Turning to me, he explains, “Gael used to strip off his clothes whenever he had the chance. Yaya would get him ready for church, then get herself ready. By the time she was done, Gaelcito would be naked and playing in the mud.”

They share a laugh, another small window into how things could’ve been for him had none of this ever happened.

A tiny bit of trepidation crosses Ant’s features. He sends me a quick glance and then sets a boundary. “If you could…I prefer to be called Ant. And before you ask, yes, Ant like the bug,” he says, shouldering Javier.

The smiles on the other end of the line dim. They understand without words that something happened to make his own name somehow wrong.

“Of course, sobrino,” Yaya’s husband, Emil, says.

There’s a slightly awkward pause, then his grandmother asks any family’s most urgent question.

“When can we see you, Ant?”

The quiver in her voice reveals the importance of the answer, and Javier takes this one. “He’s here on a special visa and slowly working toward citizenship. We first need to see if he can even travel into Mexico.”

Ant grimaces, saying in English, “I hadn’t thought about that. It would be hard for me to go back to the place where I was sold. At least right now.”

Gael and Yaya immediately react to his words, clearly understanding what he said. Tears fall down Yaya’s cheeks, and Gael’s chin trembles as he tries to hold back tears.

Ant, seeing their reactions, lowers his head. “Sorry,” he mumbles in Spanish.

“It’s okay, nephew,” Yaya responds. “This is so hard, but we are thrilled to find you alive and with good people.”

A little more silence, and then Yaya continues, “Hermano, gracias. You traveled through the depths of hell to find our Antonio, our Ant, and you have put this family back together again.”

Javier’s breathing hitches, and he breaks like he did before the call. He’s been on a hair trigger since he found out what Ant’s life was like, and every emotion is right at the surface. He drops forward, sobs racking his shoulders.

I put my arm around his shoulders in a side hug. “This was a lot for you. The work you’ve done, the things you’ve seen? Your actions, more than anything else, show how much you love your nephew. Somebody who goes through this will often question their value for the rest of their life. I suspect as you and Ant share your stories, he will come to know exactly how much you value him.”

Ant and I share a look over Javier’s back, and he’s nodding along to my words.

“I can’t believe you never forgot about me.”

Silence greets his words.

After several moments, Emil is the only one who can speak. “We’ve never forgotten you, Ant. We celebrate your birthday, and we buy you gifts for Christmas. Not having you here with us has felt…”—he looks off, biting his upper lip as he comes up with the words—“like a missing limb. My wife, my son? They have never been the same since you were taken from us. Your uncle would’ve gone anywhere that alert told him to go. Any corner of the earth. Terrible people tried to break this family, but they did not succeed.”

Ant shakes his head. “No, they did not. I’m going to need a little time to process, but I didn’t know I could feel like this. I’m sad about what I missed out on, but all I feel is love and joy. Like maybe something inside of me just got put back together.”

All five heads nod in agreement.

“Can we talk to you again tomorrow?” his grandfather asks, his voice papery and kind.

Ant bobs his head. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

They wave at each other and blow kisses as we end the call. I hit the button and let out a big breath. We all look at each other and stand, ending in a big, snotty group hug.

“I’m probably not allowed to have favorites, but I don’t give a shit. This was my favorite reunification,” I whisper in Ant’s ear.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Javier stands back, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted and starving. Can I make breakfast for us?”

“Sure,” Erik says from the corner of the living room.

I forgot he was there, but the tall Norwegian is a mess like the rest of us. Ant laughs and walks over to him, throwing his arms around him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, buddy.” Erik hugs him with strength and gentleness, burying his nose in Ant’s hair.

I share a glance with Javier. He reaches out and pulls me into a bracing hug.

“You have put my nephew back together. If there’s anything I could ever do to repay you, please let me know.”

“I’ve got a few guys coming over to help build a deck on my trailer this Sunday. Wanna help?” I ask, completely joking.

“I’m actually pretty good with my hands and would love to help.”

“I’m kidding!”

“I’m not,” he says, pulling back to wipe away tears through his smiles. “I need to work through these emotions somehow, you know?”

I have a few suggestions…

Seriously, Lev?

“Alright, gimme your number, and I’ll let you know when we get started.”

Ant holds his tongue, but just barely. Instead, he tugs on his uncle’s arm. “I believe you promised us breakfast.”