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Wow, he just put it right out there, didn’t he?
“And that’s what you’re here about? Your family?” Not Henri, how he was coping, and for some reason, that really pissed Bailey off.
Maybe it was because he’d been sitting around his house mourning Henri and Priest’s childhood since he’d learned about it. Or maybe it was because he’d given himself an ulcer trying to believe that what Henri had done to Jimmy Donovan was okay. But the next thing he knew, Bailey was across the room and standing toe to toe with Priest.
“And what about Henri, and what would happen to him? Or do you only ever think about yourself when it comes down to the two of you?”
To his credit, Priest didn’t flinch. In fact, one side of his mouth curled up and Bailey thought he looked slightly…maniacal. “You’re brave.”
Bailey narrowed his eyes, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.
“Would it make you feel better to hit me?”
As Priest’s words registered, Bailey realized just how aggressive he was being and took a step back.
Priest looked him up and down. “I never thought I’d be fighting with you over Henri.”
“Yeah? Well, I never knew you had such a selfish streak.”
“Really?” Priest said. “I’m married to two men, Bailey. I would think that was obvious.”
Bailey said nothing, just glared, wishing he knew Henri half as well as Priest did, and found himself irrationally jealous over the fact he didn’t.
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
And that comment only served to piss Bailey off even more. “Why do you sound so surprised? Because you were too blind to realize he was worth loving?”
Priest’s lips pulled tight, and something fiery flashed in his eyes as he took a step forward. “I wasn’t too blind,” Priest said, his voice low. He pulled a photograph from his pocket.
Bailey reached for it, and what he saw rendered him speechless. It was a picture of Priest and Henri in their early twenties, probably. Priest had an arm wrapped around Henri’s shoulders and was looking at him, as Henri stared down at one of his hands.
Bailey’s eyes latched on to the silver ring with the black diamond in it.
“I wasn’t too blind. I was too close, Bailey.”
Bailey blinked, trying to fight back the tears blurring his vision, and when he looked up, Priest nodded and took the photo back.
“I don’t know what you plan to do here, or even what you should do. But I just want you to know that while we did have a harder start than most, Henri has had a hard everything.” Priest sighed and slipped his hands into his coat pockets. “I love him. But I think you know that. And I wanted you to see that so you understand why he did what he did, and know that I would’ve done the same for him. I’ve always hoped that someone as good as you would happen for him. I’m still hoping for that. I really am.”
Bailey swallowed and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’ve been a fucking mess thinking about all of this, about him.”
A grin slowly curved Priest’s lips. “Would it help you to know that he looks much worse?” Yes, Bailey thought, but when he said nothing, Priest added, “He passed out on our couch the night he dropped you home, and when I took him back to his place, he looked almost scared to walk in there.”
Bailey knew the feeling. Everywhere he looked in this house he had memories of the two of them—the kitchen, the bathroom, right there in his living room. All he saw was Henri, and Henri was all he wanted.
“He’s a good man, Bailey. One of the best I know,” Priest said, as he turned on his heel and headed for the door. “I’ve trusted him with my life and the life of my loved ones—and I don’t trust anyone. I know you have to do what’s right for you, but if he’s what’s right? I’d make sure to tell him before he disappears. I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Bailey watched Priest walk out to his Range Rover and climb into the SUV, and all he could think was that he’d regret it if he didn’t go and get to Henri before he was gone for good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
CONFESSION
What I’m about to do here,
is going to change our lives—forever.
HENRI SAT ON his couch staring at the empty bookshelves surrounding his television and was grateful in that moment that he’d never bothered to fill the spaces up with pointless knickknacks or rows and rows of actual books. It would just make packing up and leaving take that much longer, if he ever got to a point where the thought of not living in the same city as Bailey felt tolerable.
Henri eyed the bottle of bourbon that had become a permanent fixture since he’d returned home from Jamaica, and then looked at the clock on the wall.
