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As I’m loading the washer, I think about how nonchalantly James just told me I have a house. This place is mine! Why didn’t he tell me? Why wasn’t there anyone to tell me before this? When I became an adult?
With the laundry loaded, I go to my room and flop on the bed. I can’t figure out what to do with this information. Not right now. I have a month to figure things out, to try to stop this and keep my house. We can all stay here, or I can myself. If he wasn’t being such a dick about me paying him most of my salary for college, I could handle paying the mortgage myself.
If only he would let me pay the loan payments on my own.
Ugh! Even knowing it’s my house, I don’t think I’m strong enough to try to get rid of them. It would be the best thing to do, but what if they don’t leave? What if they beat me? What if—
My phone vibrating in my bag is the only thing that pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. Pulling it out, I see an unknown number, but the message lets me know who it is.
Unknown: What time can we talk?
My heart skips a beat, then I think about what my plans for the night are. I have to meet Conrad at the club, or I’ll end up a bloody mess in my bathroom. Thinking quickly, I text him back.
Me: Eleven thirty. Can you drop me off at the club down by the docks after we talk?
I know it’s stupid to ask. Conrad will find out that I didn’t drive. But I need answers. I need to know what happened to Abel.
Before I can think better of it, I get a text back.
Unknown: Okay. Eleven thirty it is.
Chapter 7
Michael
I’vecheckedmyoutfitin the mirror a dozen times before I realize I’m being an idiot. Damon asked me to drop him off at the club, notjoinhim in the club. I’m also forty. What kind of man my age would go to a club to watch over his twenty-four-year-old crush?
Idiot me, that’s who.
Even though he didn’t ask, I dress nicely, just in case he does. The dress pants and shirt I have on don’t look too dressy, and I wouldn’t embarrass him if we were seen together.
I. Am. An. Idiot.
Huffing, I turn away from the mirror and check the time. It will take me at least twenty minutes to get to his area of town without traffic. At this time of night, there shouldn’t be much.
I figure I can show him the video message Abel sent for him—since Abel said he would be asleep by the time I met up with Damon—and I can tell him what happened. From the beginning. Abel said he would answer any questions Damon might have after he hears everything, but gave me permission to start from the beginning, from the very first time I met Abel.
That was an adventure. I chuckle, thinking back on how fearless Abel was when Quin had a gun pointed at him. Anyone else would have been pissing themselves, especially since Quin and I towered over Abel by almost a foot, but Abel never showed any fear. You have to admire someone like that.
It’s eleven twenty-seven when I pull up to the corner of the block Damon lives on. He asked me to park in front of a house two doors down. He said the occupants have left the country for a few months, but not to worry about anyone seeing me parked there and thinking it suspicious. I see why. The circular driveway is hidden behind a concrete barrier that has a large tree in front of it. We’ll have privacy.
When I park and cut the lights, I send Damon a text, letting him know I’m here. It takes only a minute for me to see his slight figure make his way to the passenger door. He hesitates for a moment, then opens the door and slides inside.
I inhale inaudibly, catching the scent of his body wash and a hint of cologne. He smells amazing. I want to bury my face in his neck.
Shaking myself, I turn in my seat and stare at him for a moment. He’s taking deep breaths and his hands are balled into fists on his thighs. I move closer to the door, trying to give him more space. I’m a big guy, so it’s not really possible, but I try.
When the silence gets to be too much, I ask, “Do you want me to drive and we can talk or sit here and talk?”
Damon clamps his eyes shut, takes a shuddering breath, then looks over at me. “We can talk here if you don’t mind. What … uh … what do you have to say? I mean … is Abel okay? Is he safe?” He finally turns towards me, leaning a little over the center console.
Nodding, I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up the video Abel sent me. “He’s doing great. He, Savage, and Pogo are doing good. They’re thinking about adopting.” His eyes grow wide, and I shake my head. “Here, let him tell you.”
I hand my phone over and motion for him to press play when he just stares at it. With a shaking hand, Damon presses the play icon on the center of the screen and the sound of Abel’s sweet voice fills the car.
“Damon! Hi! Oh god, there’s so much to tell you. Let me start by apologizing. I’m so so sorry. There was no way I could tell you without risking all our lives. I thought it was for the best if I made a clean break so my family would be okay. I shouldn’t have. I trust you as much as I trust these guys. You would have kept my secret. Just know that it had nothing to do with me not trusting you. I just wanted to guarantee my family’s safety. How are you? God, I wish I could see you. But the time zones are a pain in the ass and Savage is an old man that needs his sleep.”
Damon barks an unexpected laugh at that, and I look at his face to see tears leaking from the corner of his eye. I have to fist my hands in my lap so I don’t reach over to wipe them away. The video continues with Abel on the verge of tears himself.
