Which didn’t feel right to Josiah. Yes, Tristan loved him, but Tristan knew how to separate his emotions better than anyone Josiah knew. Exactly the reason you know there’s more going on than they’re telling you...
“They’re fishing right now. I would assume it has to do with your gangbanger—”
“Mateo. His name is Mateo.”
“Mateo,” Ben added. “I’m sure it has to do with him and his past. If the fire was set, they’re exploring their options. But they have nothing on you. This isn’t going anywhere. But... Christ. If it does, I’ll be out there. For him, I will defend you. For him, I would fight for you or Mateo with all that I am. I guess we’re lucky I kept my license up in California all these years.”
“Why did you?” As soon as Josiah asked, he knew, and damned if his heart didn’t break for Ben.
“I defend high-profile clients, Josiah. People with a lot of money and some of them are businessmen back and forth between California and New York. I’ve been there on business many times over the years. We both know that’s not the reason, though. I am licensed there for the same reason I’ve done too many things to count. For him. We both know he’ll never step foot in New York again, though I’m willing to venture that you know more of why than I do.”
Because if Tristan ever wanted him, Ben would uproot his life for Tristan.
“I’m sorry,” Josiah said, meaning it. “I know how it feels not to have the one you love.” He felt like that for years when he lost Teo.
“Just love him well. You and your other guy both. If he chooses you, I want him to be happy. I want him to know love.”
When they hung up the phone, Josiah cried. They hadn’t been loving each other well, not for a while now. First Tristan and Mateo were pulling away, and now Josiah. He hid a phone log full of silent calls, scared of what they could mean. He didn’t talk to them about how he felt right now, how scared he was every single day...but they didn’t talk to him, either. It was so hard to be the only one who believed everything would be okay.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Tristan
One, two, three, four, five.
Tristan counted his pulse on the drive home.
One, two, three, four, five.
As he parked his car.
One, two, three, four, five.
As he walked into the building. Was he still the man he worked so hard to become, the man he built from nothing, if he didn’t have his job? If he wasn’t out there fighting the only way he seemed to be able to do?
One, two, three, four, five.
“Good evening, Mr. Croft.”
Tristan continued walking, ignoring the greeting.
He’d heard hushed phone calls Mateo made, knew that he was checking on things in New York. It made his chest ache. He and Josiah wanted something different for Mateo. Mateo needed something different for himself. Tristan understood that bleakness, as much as he could, at least. He saw Mateo’s eyes after the nightmare, and listened as he spoke of the things he’d done... The things Mateo probably feared he would have to do again.
And Josiah, their light, was dimming. Fear and confusion, no doubt, but how could they get out of this without him leading them? Tristan didn’t know how to believe without Josiah. He didn’t know how not to let the ugliness in the world take him over, and he knew Mateo felt the same.
One, two, three, four, five.
When he walked through the door, Josiah stood next to the window, looking out. He didn’t turn Tristan’s way as he spoke. “Mateo’s vomiting again. All the time. He thinks I don’t know it, but I do.”
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. He walked over and stood behind Josiah, waiting for Josiah to lean into him. I need you. We need you.
“What about you? How many times have you held your fingers to your wrist today?” Josiah whispered.
“More than I have in a long time.” He wouldn’t lie about that, either.
Josiah didn’t respond to that. He didn’t lean back. Didn’t let Tristan hold him. Didn’t lend Tristan his strength.
“Where are you?” Tristan touched Josiah’s hair, then ran a finger down the side of his face.
“I don’t know.”
They stood there for what felt like an eternity. The sun had already gone down, the world around them dark, buildings lighting up the skyline. That was Josiah to them, their skyline; only now, the electricity flickered, dimmed, lost its energy.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Josiah’s voice pulled him out of his mind, as it so often did.
