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Did he mean that? I didn’t know him well enough to know. What I did know was that five years on, he was still living in the same hell.
“You can’t think like that, Liam. You’re young and have your life ahead of you. Who knows what’s in store for you? Things might look bleak now…”
“And you think my life will miraculously get better? It’s been five years, and nothing has changed.” Tears welled up in his eyes again, and his voice wavered.
“Doesn’t mean it won’t. Like I said, you’re still young.” I wasn’t old, but there was little chance of my life changing. I’d resigned myself to always being single, living the life I’d chosen.
“Who would want me?” He scrubbed at his eyes, leaving them bloodshot and red.
I would. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but the chances of him wanting me in return were laughable.
While my attraction to men wasn’t common knowledge, it wasn’t something I’d consciously hidden.
Sam knew, although we hadn’t discussed it, and probably a handful of other people knew I was gay, including my parents. I’d satisfied my needs with the odd hook-up, but lately, even those had failed to satisfy me. When the mood took me, I was content to open my laptop and have a quick wank, but I’d given up hope of finding Mr Right.
Not that the young man sitting in front of me didn’t appeal. But that was the problem. He was young, just twenty-three.
I was forty-seven. Some days I felt fifty-seven. I was unfit, smoked too much, and drank far too much coffee. I didn’t eat healthily, junk food was my go-to, and my idea of exercise was walking to my car at the end of my shift.
Even going up the two flights of stairs to my office had me panting and wheezing like I’d climbed Mount Everest.
Liam’s mournful tone and sad eyes tugged at my heartstrings.
“Let me help you.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“You gonna let me move in with you? Take care of me like a wonderful Daddy should?” Shocked at the tone of his words, I sat back and crossed my arms.
I was nobody’s Daddy, not my thing.
“No need to be so rude, Liam. I was trying to help you, offer you a way to get out of the rut you’re in. I can see you’re not doing well, and maybe you haven’t had the best start. Why is it so difficult to think you’re worth it?”
“I’ve never been worth it. Not to my parents, not to my brother, and definitely not to Stuart. I was disposable to all of them. What makes you different? Why should I trust you?”
Other than our brief meeting five years ago, he had no reason to do so. We’d put the bad guys away. Then there was nothing. No follow-up. He’d been left to his own devices.
I shrugged.
“Because you’re a copper? Is that a good enough reason? I’ve met enough bent ones to know I can’t trust the police. So explain to me, Detective Palmer, why I should trust you.”
“I don’t have an answer for you right now, but won’t you at least let me try?” I wanted to help, but I could see I was losing him, and when he stood and handed me my coat, I knew it was the end of the conversation.
“I don’t think you can help me at all. I’m not a charity case, so quit with the good Samaritan act.”
What was it about him that brought out this protective streak in me? Why did I have the urge to help him? Was it some misplaced guilt that I’d done nothing back then? I honestly didn’t know. I just felt I should do something now.
“Just take my card…please.” I grabbed his arm and pressed my card into his hand, but he crumpled it and shoved it into his pocket.
“I gotta go. Drew will wonder where I am.”
I opened my mouth, but what on earth could I say? So I watched him walk out the door and disappear into the crowd.
That could have gone better. I sat back on the sofa and finished my coffee. I needed to sleep and soon. I was on shift again tonight, and if I didn’t get my eight hours, I’d be a right miserable bastard later.
Some would say I was always a miserable bastard. I wasn’t. Few things made me happy these days.
When I reached my car, the rain had intensified, and as eager as I was to get into it, I took one last look over at the barber’s shop. Liam had a new customer. A young guy, about his age. He touched him, smiled at him, and flirted with him.
An uncomfortable feeling sat in my chest. He hadn’t done that with me, but then why would he? I was old, fat, and probably not his type at all. I had nothing to offer him. He was right. He was out of my league, and I needed to remember that.
