Page 3 of See My Words

“Get the fuck out,” Minh sputtered, a look of utter shock on his face. “Really?”

Rylan told him the CliffsNotes version of their relationship, leaving out Heather’s final revelations, saying only, “His mom pretty much drove him away, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him in six years when I ran into him at Pride…oh Jesus, was it only three days ago?” Three days that seemed like a lifetime already.

“Were y’all in love?” Minh asked with characteristic bluntness. “’Cause there’s way more here than just family bonding.”

Rylan looked at him. “I was, yeah,” he admitted quietly. “Or at least as much as a sixteen-year-old boy can be. We’d started sleeping together at the end there, so there was a lot going on that we didn’t get a chance to figure out. Not before he—”

Minh nodded his understanding, and Rylan went on, his voice tentative, “How long have you known him?”

“Five years.”

“Can you tell me—”

“No.” Minh’s face was implacable, although his tone was gentle. “That isn’t my story to tell, baby. If he wants you to know, he’ll be the one to say it. Aiight?”

Rylan sat back down in the chair. “Fair enough. I’m so glad he had you for a friend―”

“Hey.” Minh put his arm around him again. “I’d die for Scotty, and he for me. But we’ve never been in love, never crossed our minds to try for anything like that.” He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, as if debating with himself. “He told me one night, a long time ago, that there’d been a boy once. A sweet, kind boy who made him believe there’s good people in the world, even when he’s surrounded by nothing but ugliness.”

Rylan scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, holding back a sob.

“I had a feeling that boy was you, from the first moment I saw you with him.”

Before Rylan could reply, the hydraulic front doors whooshed open, and Chris walked into the waiting room, his eyes lighting on Rylan. “Hey, any word?”

Rylan shook his head. Chris handed him a plastic bag, saying, “Clean pants in there. Hope they fit.” He eyed Minh curiously.

Rylan introduced them before heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll run put these on. Thanks, Chris.”

When he emerged dressed in the sweatpants, Chris and Minh were deep in conversation. He stuffed his bloody jeans into his backpack and rejoined them.

“I bet that fuckin’ Lance did it,” Minh was saying. “He was talking so much trash about Scotty, like he hated him.”

“Is he the tall guy with blond hair and lots of tattoos?” Chris asked.

Minh scowled. “Yeah, that’s the fucker.”

“The police were questioning him when I ran back by the club a few minutes ago. I accidentally left my phone on the bar when all the excitement happened,” he explained to Rylan, “so I stopped by to see if it was still there.”

Rylan was mystified. “The police were talking to Lance? When I walked past him a couple of minutes before I heard that lady screaming, he was talking and laughing with his friends. I can’t believe he’d have had time to run out, hurt Scott literally a minute before that, and be back inside drinking as if nothing happened.”

Minh shrugged. “If he’s crazy, he ain’t rational, man. I still think it’s him.”

“Well, who else would have had motivation to hurt Scott?”

Minh got up to pace. “Depends on the day and who you ask. Lots of people got beef with him.”

“I’d hate to fuck up my one good arm breaking that pretty face of his, but I will if he hurts you.” Rylan flinched as he thought of Val’s fierce words of a few days ago…Val, who was as gentle and peace-loving as they come.

“Sounds like he creates a lot of strong feelings in people,” Chris observed unnecessarily.

“Understatement, my man. Understatement.” Minh stopped pacing and collapsed in one of the chairs, sprawling there with a disgusted sigh.

“Well, I don’t think Lance did it just based on the timing, but that’s for the police to figure out,” Rylan said wearily.

“Yeah, nothing we can do on that end. Maybe Scotty can say who did it when he wakes up.”

If he wakes up. Rylan slumped, and Chris took his hand, rubbing his thumb over Rylan’s wrist. “Is there anything you need?” he asked. Before Rylan could reply, the door leading back to the treatment rooms squeaked open.