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“No. You didn’t.”
His voice took on a panicked edge. “What if I can’t get them back? What if the judge says no?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Don’t you know what happens in those kinds of places?” He dropped his hands and looked at her. His eyes were shining in the darkness. “If someone picks a fight with Gabriel—if someone finds out Nick is g*y—” Another shaky breath. “And Chris. Chris hates me for this.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“He’s so young sometimes—” Michael shook his head. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“He’s afraid.”
Michael gave a laugh that was more of a sob. “That makes me feel better. Thanks.”
She found his hand and held it. “They’re together. They’ll take care of each other.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. They barely left each other to go to the bathroom.”
Michael turned his head to look at her. “When?”
“Last night.”
“Where were they last night?”
“Here. Well, downstairs.”
He looked bewildered. “Wait. They weren’t at Adam’s?”
“No. They came here as soon as they heard. Hunter, too. And Layne and Simon and Adam.”
“All night? They were sitting down there alone all night—”
“I stayed with them. They were okay.”
Michael stared at her. His voice was soft with something like shame. “You didn’t have to do that, Hannah.”
“Your brothers were ready to climb the walls.” She brushed another finger across his cheek, pulling a stray tear away. “Consider it a public service.”
“What about James?”
“He stayed with my mom. He’s all right. I went home for dinner and his bedtime story.” She didn’t mention that she’d had to wait for her father to fall asleep before she could sneak out again. She’d sent her mom a text message so she wouldn’t worry, and hoped the woman would run interference if her dad decided to pitch a fit.
“I’m sorry you had to waste your time here.”
“They’re your brothers, Michael. It wasn’t a waste of time.” She paused. “I was worried about you, too. No one would tell us anything.”
“I’m all right.”
Said the man crying in the dark. She stroked a hand across his cheek again, feeling the beard growth there. He bowed his head and leaned into her touch. He always took her by surprise in these moments when he was quiet and passive, like an untamed lion that would only settle in her presence.
“I should leave so you can get some sleep,” she said.
He shook his head. “I don’t think I can sleep.” He rubbed his hands down his face, catching her hand in his own, holding it against his face. “Every time I close my eyes, I see too many things.”
She didn’t mention that he’d seemed asleep when she’d walked in here—but then again, he’d startled so easily. “Do you think you could lie down? Rest?”
