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“Why shouldn’t you?” I pressed. “Why do you think it’s wrong?” I could understand his uncle, Tom, and Chris saying something to him. They were chauvinistic pigs sometimes. But his mum was beautiful, so gentle and kind. She never had a bad word to say about anyone. She would never have drilled anything homophobic into him. Same with his dad. He was much more traditional—more of a man’s man with ideals that reflected that—but I remembered him being a good guy. Had I been wrong?
“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he whispered, shaking his head. The tension was returning to his shoulders. “I don’t want them to leave me.”
“Let it go, Ry. Let all the stress go.” I squeezed his waist and pressed my body against his from head to toe. “Let all the ‘should-dos’ and ‘should-bes’ go. You’re safe with me.” I nuzzled his chest, trying to communicate through that small touch what he meant to me. “It’s okay if you’re not ready, but you don’t have to hide anymore. Not if you don’t want to.”
He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “When my dad died, so many people told me that I was the man of the house now and it was my job to be there for Mum.”
“You’ve taken such good care of her. And of me too. You’ve been there for me in ways no one else has.”
“When Ash died, I was drowning. Something inside me died with him. It was like all the happiness and light got sucked out of my life. I was so alone. I couldn’t stop crying.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and my throat burned. I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. Asher was the best of us all. He was like the sun—warm and happy. Everyone gravitated to him. With him gone, our worlds had turned dark and cold.
“They were trying to help. My uncle, especially. But….”
The silence stretched out again, and I waited.
“They kept telling me that I was a man now and that real men were strong. They weren’t weak. ‘Don’t cry,’ they said. ‘Be brave and strong.’” His voice cracked on his last word, and he sucked in a shuddery breath. “Men don’t cry like girls. They’re not cowards like my dad.” Ry let go of me long enough to wipe his face, but when I tried to pull back to kiss him, he kept me anchored in place. I hugged him tighter.
“My uncle used to say to me that being a man was important. He and Chris and Tom used to tell me secrets. It made me feel like I was one of them. I wanted to make Dad proud, you know? I wanted to slot in where he should have been. When they told me to look after Mum, I took it to heart.”
His mum hadn’t needed a man, she’d needed her family. Her child. They’d forced him to grow up too soon. They hadn’t let him grieve, instead placing so much pressure on him to be there for everyone else. But who was there for him?
“I just wanted Ash back. I just wanted my best friend back.” His breath caught, and this time he let me reach up and pull his face down to mine. I ran my fingers through his hair, rocking him while he cried.
“It’s okay, let it out. Cry.” I was doing the same, grieving for the little boy whose world had been shattered. He’d lost his dad and his best friend, the person who’d been his guiding light. Ash was his strength during his darkest times, and to lose that within months of another devastating loss had wrenched his world apart.
Slowly his tears dried, but he didn’t move. I stood between his spread legs, one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around his shoulder as he clutched me like I was his lifeline. I was grateful I could give him some of the comfort he’d given me over the years.
“I dreamed about kissing Ash,” he admitted.
Shock paralysed me. Had Ry been crushing on Ash? Was he grieving his first love as well as his best friend? My heart shattered, the need to comfort Ry overwhelming. But I dared not move, I dared not breathe in case I broke the spell that had Ry talking.
“It was the night before Mr Vella dropped off all the food he and his mum cooked. He sat me down, asked me how I was doing, and I don’t know why, but I told him. He talked about how our minds can try to protect our hearts from the pain. Sometimes that happens in dreams where the person we’ve lost is alive again. He talked about how some people believe it’s the other person’s spirit. Other times it’s a memory or a lost chance, sometimes for something we didn’t even know we wanted. I never wanted Ash like that, but… I don’t know.” He paused, then shook his head as if clearing his thoughts before he continued. “Mr Vella told me his door was always open. He gave me his mobile number so that if I needed to talk to someone, I could call him. He said it didn’t matter whether it was midnight, on a weekend, or over the holidays—I could call anytime.”
“He helped me too,” I whispered, remembering my own chat with him. He’d done exactly the same thing for me.
“But then our neighbour walked in just as Mr Vella was leaving. I hadn’t even noticed the shirt he was wearing—I thought it was just black, but there must have been a rainbow somewhere on it. He started going on about how these queer fuckers parade around in rainbows, suck us in, and put shit in our heads. He said that it was unnatural and wrong. He started talking about how we needed to get back to real family values again, and then we wouldn’t have so many problems. It hit me how much I was going to let everyone down if that was who I really was. I went over and over it, getting more and more lost, but the only thing that made any sense was hiding it. I buried it deep. If I convinced myself I wasn’t one of them, I wouldn’t let anyone down. I wouldn’t let Mum down. I could be the man she needed.”
“I’m sorry they put all that on you on top of everything else you were going through. It wasn’t fair.” I pressed a kiss to his hair, and he straightened.
He sighed. “I’m so tired of lying to myself. I’m tired of fighting with everything inside me.”
“You must be exhausted,” I murmured, running my thumbs over his cheekbones and the backs of my knuckles along his jawline.
“He makes me feel safe,” he admitted. When I tilted my head in question, his lips tilted up in the ghost of a smile. “Tristan. Ezra made sure I was safe. He took my cuffs off in that interview room and checked my wrists.” He huffed out a wry laugh. “Jesus, getting out of that ballroom in Monte Carlo nearly turned to shit, but Ezra took over, all smooth and professional, and made sure we walked out without a scene. And Flynn doesn’t hesitate. He shows me every day that he trusts me. He lets me lead.”
“You know, if you ever… they’d be down.” It was a conversation he needed to have with them, but I could at least pave the way for him to approach them.
Eight
Ryder
Icouldn’t believe that I’d admitted all those things to Zali. My deepest, darkest shame as a kid was realizing that I could never be the man I’d been expected to be for everyone else. So I’d faked it. I’d cast that part of myself aside, buried it and only let myself acknowledge that part of my sexuality which fit the mould of the type of man I wanted to be.
Now everything was unravelling. My sexuality was like a zombie clawing its way out of a grave that I thought had been dug much deeper and contained in a reinforced steel vault.
But my secret was free, and it was chasing me. Waiting to infect me.
