Except that would be even more obvious, and at some point, Marc would push again. Or worse, Jude might try to talk to me again after he saw I not only shouted him down, but turned his father away as well. I wasn’t ready to talk about that, and the worst part was, I was probably never going to be ready, but it felt like the choice was going to be taken out of my hands.
And didn’t that piss me off even worse?
I waited, not patiently, but I waited, and eventually Marc made his way over to me, his brow furrowed heavily. Jude had stepped back, not nearly as far back as the other guys, but far enough that I supposed there was at least a semblance of privacy for Marc and me.
“Hey,” he said softly, and the gentleness in his voice called to me, even as it grated on my nerves and set my teeth on edge. The last thing I needed was for him to pull out the understanding card and treat me like a half-crazed idiot who had just lost it.
“Don’t,” I warned him, arms going over my middle and turning half away from him. “I don’t need you to start playing counselor, alright?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” he insisted, but I didn’t believe him. There was too much concern in his voice, and there was a…tone I recognized. It was the one most people used when they were trying to placate someone, and I didnotwant to be placated.
The thought was depressing because it was quickly followed by the understanding that I didn’t know what I wanted at that moment. On the one hand, I wanted to accept what he was trying to do right now, to give me comfort and understanding. On the other hand, I wanted him to leave me alone and let me sort through things on my own. On a third hand, I wanted every single one of them to just leave me alone and let mehave a moment of peace, something I so rarely asked, let alone demanded from others.
God, wasn’t that an enticing thought? To just…go off into the woods without any of them. Take my bag, loaded up as it was, including the survival manual that was written specifically for this area of the Rockies, and just…go off on my own. Maybe I would enjoy it, maybe it would be hell, but it would certainly be something new to experience. Then again, I would probably get lost and wander around hoping to find a signal to call for help that would probably never come and end up lost forever in the woods surviving on berries and scraps, or just die and my bones might be found a few years later by amateur hikers.
“Fine, I’m concerned,” he said after he saw I wasn’t going to say anything else. “I haven’t seen you this wound up and snappy in…actually, quite a while. I can’t think of the last time it happened.”
“Brendan,” I reminded him, and then hated myself for participating in the conversation when I still hadn’t decided if that’s what I wanted or not.
“Okay, sure,” he said slowly, and I could see his hand flexing at his side. It hurt to realize he was resisting the urge to reach out and touch me.
I was struck by an overwhelming ache as I stood there and closed my eyes. At that moment, all I wanted was to be back in his quarters, or mine, for that matter. Everyone else could fuck off, and it could just be me and him, curled up in his bed, my head on his chest and his hand on my back. I had once never dared imagine what something like that would be like, though I was always tempted, and yet that was exactly what we had done last night before I’d fallen asleep.
I almost smiled when I remembered him waking me up a bit later, telling me if I was going to snore, I shouldn’t do it while my mouth was two inches from his face. I’d called him aninconsiderate ass and then kissed him until I felt him stir to life beneath me and then the next thing, my mouth was around him and I was listening to him groan my name like I was the only thing that made his life right.
And now I was standing there, acting like a petulant child who didn’t want a timeout.
“I-I don’t know if I know exactly what’s wrong with you,” he said slowly. “I have a few ideas, but?—”
“Do you now?” I asked, again trying for a neutral tone and barely making it. I thought there might still be an edge to my words, but at least I wasn’t snapping at him.
“Yeah…though I don’t believe it’s something we should discuss right now,” he said, and I don’t know what he saw in my face, but his expression tightened and he looked away. “We need to talk.”
Alarms rang through my head, and paranoia followed swiftly after. I didn’t know what his conversation with Jude had been, but now I was wondering if Jude had somehow slipped in what had happened and Marc had just contained his reaction. It wasn’t like it was out of character to conceal a reaction like that to something that anyone else would have reacted to strongly and openly. I loved his ability to control himself, but sometimes he was freaky in how well he could lock himself down.
“I know,” I said, my shoulders sagging. “I know we do. And I should have talked to you before we came out here, okay? It’s…it feels like everything is unraveling, and every time I try to grab a string to keep it all together, I grab the wrong thing. Then I’m tugging and tugging and it’s like I’m making it all so much worse. Now I feel half out of control, barking at everyone, yelling at Jude, being an ass to you and I just?—”
He surprised me by reaching out and taking my elbows in his hands and giving them a squeeze. I looked up into his face, and it hurt to see the love and compassion I had so far done nothingto earn. Marc could be so hard on himself sometimes, believing himself to be cold and overly pragmatic when human decency was called for, but that was selling himself short, far too short.
I could remember the day he’d found me curled up in my bed, well, in the bed that had once been mine and Malcolm’s. For six months, if I wasn’t going through work like a mindless robot, picking up a few things from the store that would technically keep me alive, I was in that bed. He had known because he frequently tried to call me. And when I didn’t answer him for days on end, he had flown all the way from Munich to come through the door, using the key Malcolm and I had given him.
“Enough,” he’d told me as he stood in the doorway, his voice shaking with rage. “This is enough, Reggie, e-goddamn-nough.”
I had barely heard him, in fact, when I heard someone moving around my house, I’d hoped it was someone come in to rob me. Maybe they’d see me, decide they didn’t want a witness, and end things right then and there. Except my life hadn’t been ended by some violent, greedy stranger, but I had been dragged out of bed when I refused to do a thing he’d said.
Sometimes I still remembered the icy shower he dumped me into. I sputtered and spat, but he refused to let me out. It didn’t remember the things I’d called him, the hate I’d spewed at him. I was too caught up in my misery to want to be saved, well, misery and half a bottle of Jack. Yet even when I said things no person should have to hear, when I accused him of things he’d never do, and even when I swung and kicked at him, he refused to let me up.
It was only when all the anger, spite, and hate were drained, leaving the misery and anguish buried underneath it all, that he finally relented. His suit probably cost more than my rent, but he climbed into that soaking, freezing tub with me as I sobbed until my chest felt empty and my stomach was turning circles,and held me. He’d held me with the same compassion and understanding in his eyes that he held right now.
He was a good man, a great man, and I was ruining it all.
And I couldn’t stop myself.
“I’m just trying to say…” he began, and I cut him off.
“It’s unnecessary,” I told him sharply, and I didn’t know why I was so mad at him. Maybe because he was trying to take things upon himself when there was no need, because the issue wasn’t him, and it had never been him. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit to him what my problem was. I might have, if it wasn’t for the fact that part of my problem was standing a handful of feet behind him along with the rest of the group trying to pretend their leaders weren’t having a hushed argument out of earshot.
“Reggie,” he said in a pleading voice, and I felt an ache in my chest because, Jesus, I was being an asshole. I was trying to figure out how to do the right thing, but I was being a bastard by locking him out, slamming the door in his face and refusing to level with him.
