If Walter really had been the source, that was a worse betrayal than telling everyone about him and Eliot. Not that it wasn’t bad—and the idea had probably been to break them up—but to try and take away Danny’s last game was even more cruel. Walter didn’t know he had actual feelings for Eliot.
He probably realized that Eliot cared about Danny, though. Now that Danny looked back, there were a few really obvious signs.
“You’re not gonna leave me, are you?” Danny asked.
It seemed like too huge a question to ask, but he had to get an answer. Eliot would grant him that.
“I can stay,” Eliot murmured, still stroking his hair. “I can get Ben to come here, if that’s okay?”
It wasn’t what Danny had meant, but it was close enough for now. He wanted Eliot near him. As long as he had that, he could cope with not knowing how long it’d last.
Danny nodded. “Of course. My home is your home,” he said, momentarily wishing that was true.
This was what he’d been afraid of. Getting too attached to someone who didn’t feel the same way. He thought that maybe Eliot did feel the same, but he couldn’t be sure.
“You’re sweet. You ready to get back on the couch?”
“I don’t know if you can take my weight,” Danny said, hesitating. He didn’t want to hurt Eliot, or to make himself a literal burden as well as a metaphorical one.
“I’m stronger than I look.” Eliot bent down, bracing his shoulder under Danny’s own. “And we’re only going three feet.”
Not wanting to spend the whole night on the floor, Danny gave in. “Okay, okay.”
He put one hand on the coffee table behind him and let Eliot help with the rest of his weight, groaning with the effort, but eventually getting him to his feet again. Pain shot up Danny’s leg, but it wasn’t nearly as bad this time.
This time, he had Eliot to lean on. That made a huge difference.
Between the two of them, they hobbled their way over to the couch, and Danny more or less fell into it. He curled up on his side, bad knee on top, and closed his eyes to recover from the pain again.
Eliot put the cushion between his knees again, to pad the sore one.
He was easily the best boyfriend Eliot had ever had. There’d never been anyone else who would have helped him like this, definitely not without complaining or trying to find a way to leave as soon as possible.
Or, wait. Were they boyfriends? He’d wondered before, but never asked.
“Are you my boyfriend?” Danny asked after a moment, opening his eyes to look at Eliot.
Eliot paused, raising an eyebrow at him. “The painkillers can’t have kicked in so fast that you already don’t recognize me,” he said.
That answered that question. There was obviously no doubt in Eliot’s mind. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Eliot chuckled, then bent down and kissed Danny’s cheek. That seemed like a good sign. “We can have a deep and meaningful conversation about exactly what we mean to each other when you’re not in pain,” he said.
“Okay,” Danny agreed. Later was probably the best idea, anyway.
“I’m gonna get you a blanket and then call Ben again. Is there anything else you need?”
Danny shook his head. “No. A blanket would be awesome.”
“I’ll be back in a second. But if the swelling isn’t down by morning, you’re getting medical help. Your health is more important than anything.”
Danny wondered if Eliot would say the same if he had to choose between his health and his career. He doubted it.
Eliot was probably right, but if Danny could get back on his feet and play in the final, he’d take any amount of pain to get there. Whether or not he’d regret that later was yet to be seen.
He would regret it if it scared Eliot away. Eliot probably wouldn’t want to be stuck with a man who was old before his time, constantly sore and tired.
But then, Eliot had been full of surprises up to this point. Worrying about it definitely wouldn’t help, in any case.
They had more immediate things to worry about right now, and Danny was ready to push everything else aside and help Eliot get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Thank you for coming out here,” Eliot said when he opened the door to Ben, still feeling guilty for having asked him to go out of his way like this.
“Hey, if the source can’t come to us, we go to the source, right?” Ben responded, as if it was no trouble at all.
He was a good man. Eliot didn’t know much about him—and every time he learned something new, it was a surprise—but he did know that Ben was one of the good guys.
That was just what he and Danny needed right now.
“We’re set up in the living room,” Eliot explained, leading Ben toward where he had his laptop and notes spread out, connecting the dots between everything he’d learned so far.
“Danny gave me access to his financial records,” he continued as he sat down on the couch opposite the one Danny was lying on. He’d had to pull it over from the other side of the room, but now they had a setup where Danny could lie down, taking the weight off his knee, and Eliot could talk to him.
Or they had, until Danny had fallen asleep. Eliot didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing that he was still in pain despite the painkillers. They’d knocked him out, which was really the best either of them had hoped for.
“Found anything yet?” Ben asked, settling next to Eliot on the couch.
“Well, I’ve found that Danny really needs to keep a closer eye on his money. He’s been making a payment to a company that doesn’t exist for the past two years. When I asked, he told me it was an investment management fee. But that fee comes out of his investment accounts, so…”
“So someone’s stealing from him,” Ben said. “Could it have been anyone other than Walter?”
“Well, that’s where it gets tricky,” Eliot explained. “Like I said, Danny’s not great at keeping track. He has more money than he could ever possibly spend right now, but that won’t be true if he keeps paying out a few grand a month to a company who aren’t actually doing anything for him. Walter is the one who told him it was an investment account fee, by the way.”
“He didn’t notice a few grand a month going missing?” Ben blinked at him.
“I know, right?” Eliot smiled wryly. “I don’t even make that much.”
“Neither do I,” Ben said. “Shoulda stuck with football.”
Eliot paused, looking up at Ben. “You played football?”
“Uh, yeah. In college, for a while. I actually wanted to be a journalist, though, so…”
“Huh.” Eliot smiled at the new information. “You’re a man of many layers.”
“You have no idea,” Ben said.
“I’d like to,” Eliot responded softly. “I mean that. You’ve been a good friend, more than I realized. I’d like to know you better.”
Ben shifted awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. Eliot had never seen him blush before. “I’d like that.” He cleared his throat. “But after we’ve figured this out.”
“Right, yeah, so, and this is the cool part where you’re gonna tell me how proud you are.” Eliot pulled up the fake company website on his laptop. “See, whoever this is—and I think it’s fair to say it’s Walter, you’ll see why in a second—they went to the effort of putting up a website. It actually looks pretty good, but all the photos are from stock sites and the physical address is bullshit. The contact email is real enough, but I’m guessing it goes to an unchecked mailbox.”
“How does this help us?” Ben asked.
Eliot grinned. He was proud of himself for this, and he hoped Ben would be, as well. Now that he knew he’d been Ben’s choice, he wanted to impress him even more. The other man had taken a risk on him, and he wanted him to see it paying off.
“I saw a documentary once where someone had used their website backend as, like, cloud storage for all their
personal documents and got busted that way, because the directory files of a website are publicly accessible. I thought no one was actually that stupid, but as it turns out…”
Eliot opened up the file full of documents he’d found on the fake website. He gave Ben a moment to take in what he was seeing, and then double-clicked on the web hosting invoice.
With Walter’s name and address on it.
“Holy shit,” Ben said. He turned to look at Eliot, a broad smile spreading across his face. “Holy shit. This is amazing work, Eliot. I wouldn’t even have known to look.”
He took the laptop from Eliot when it was offered, getting close to the screen to peer at the invoice. It was all there in black and white.
It wasn’t all the evidence they needed, but it was a start.
“I am proud of you,” Ben said after a moment, still transfixed. Eliot hadn’t had time to go through the rest of the files yet, but if there was one thing, there was every chance there’d be more. “So proud.”
Eliot’s heart soared at hearing that. All he’d ever wanted was to be a good journalist, and now he was doing it. Having Ben’s approval meant the world to him. He hadn’t known he was capable of this until he’d tried it.
Ben, somehow, had. Eliot was glad he’d had the chance to prove him right.
“Can I ask you something?” Eliot spoke up as Ben turned to get his own laptop out.
“Go ahead. No promises that you’ll get an answer.”
That sounded fair. Eliot appreciated that Ben wasn’t an open book or a grinning optimist all the time. He understood why that was true, as well. Ben had seen a lot that Eliot knew about, and probably much, much more that he didn’t.
“Why did you hire me?”
When he’d thought he’d been part of a bulk hiring effort, it had made sense—he had the necessary degree and a few good sample pieces to show. Knowing he’d been chosen specifically, though, that was strange. Thinking back to his interview with Ben, he remembered believing he’d completely bombed it. The email offering him a position had been a surprise.
Ben cleared his throat. “The directive given to senior editors was to hire people who fit the brand. Cocky. You fit the brand.”
Eliot could tell there was more to it. Ben had made it clear he’d chosen him for a real reason. Besides, Eliot didn’t fit the brand. He was the odd one out, and had been since day one.
“I’d like the truth,” Eliot said. “I think I’ve earned it.”
Ben sighed, sitting back and scrubbing his face with his hands. “You walked into my office and I saw myself at your age. Wide eyed, but ambitious, and smart. I watched you assess me with one look, and I knew there was more to you than a nervous kid three thousand miles away from home in a strange city behind your ridiculous glasses.”
“My glasses aren’t ridiculous,” Eliot objected.
“They are,” Ben said, as though it was an objective fact that couldn’t be argued. “But past that, there was something special. Plus, you were an out gay man walking into a men’s lifestyle magazine like you belonged there. Even I…”
Ben trailed off, but he’d already said enough for Eliot to put the pieces together. He hadn’t, before, but now it made so much sense.
“You’re gay,” Eliot said.
“Bi, actually. But it’s taken me years to come to terms with it. And I suppose now I also have to admit that some part of me just liked looking at you.” He smiled wryly.
Eliot blushed, looking down at his knees. That was… flattering.
“I lost the love of my life to not being able to admit out loud that I was attracted to men when I was your age. I guess part of me saw you as someone who could avoid all my mistakes, since you’d already avoided that one.”
“Oh,” Eliot said softly. That was yet another thing he hadn’t known about Ben. He suspected few people did. “Well, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you.” Ben sighed, firing up his laptop without sitting back up.
He was a different man outside of the office. More human, by a long way.
Eliot hoped they really would become friends. Ben seemed like the kind of man who could use a friend.
“And for the record, if you’d made a move back then, I wouldn’t have said no,” Eliot admitted, blushing even harder than before.
Ben chuckled. “Yeah, well. I’ve always been too slow. And I know you’re off the market now.”
Eliot swallowed. He’d hoped he hadn’t been that obvious, but sharp observation skills were a trait he and Ben shared.
“I never meant to fall for him,” Eliot said softly, not wanting Danny to hear. He wasn’t ready for that conversation yet, and he knew Danny wasn’t, either. Besides, it was early days, and all the excitement of a new relationship could have been clouding his judgement.
Eliot knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t change his mind, but he wanted to take some time to be sure anyway. Today’s events had been bad, but they were already starting to unravel in his favor.
“Kinda how love works,” Ben said, tapping distractedly on his keyboard. “Send me those files, will you? We’re taking this asshole down.”
Eliot laughed, tension he hadn’t realized he was still holding finally leaving his shoulders and the pit of his stomach. They were taking Walter down, and he’d pay for everything he’d done.
Chapter Twenty-Four
With only a few minutes to go and the score at 2-2, Danny wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision in playing the final game of the season. They needed a win, not a draw.
Even though he knew now that the team’s financial problems weren’t real thanks to Eliot’s efforts, he’d gone into this season with one goal in mind. If he didn’t make it, was it all for nothing? All the pain, all the effort of covering it up, the risk that he’d done damage he’d never recover from, that he wouldn’t even be fit enough to coach children after…
He knew Eliot was doing something more important—and had been practically every waking hour all week—but Danny wished he was here, watching.
Eliot didn’t know anything or care about hockey, but he both knew and cared about Danny. With his knee on the verge of giving out and the clock ticking, the comfort of being able to glance over and see the ridiculous purple scarf he’d worn last time would have been huge.
Danny dove toward the puck, jarring his knee as he swerved to change direction. If he’d been told once that it wasn’t the right way to turn, he’d been told a thousand times, but it was faster for him.
It was faster, and it was also probably why he was going to end up retiring at thirty and needing a cane by the time he was thirty-five. If he’d listened, he probably wouldn’t be in this position now.
It was too late to worry about that now, though. He needed to make this pass, even with his head spinning and his jaw tightening with the pain, even with his knee giving out under him.
There were seconds left. He could hear the crowd counting down as he reached out, catching the puck with the very end of his stick.
Overextended, his knee collapsed under him. Pain shot all the way up his spine as he fell, and again when he hit the ice. He rolled onto his back, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere, and then heard the crowd cheering.
The score on the board flipped over to 3-2. A heartbeat later, the buzzer sounded and the crowd got so loud that Danny couldn’t even hear his own pulse pounding in his ears.
He let out the breath he’d been holding. They won.
They won.
It wasn’t all for nothing.
Danny grinned to himself, the pain forgotten for a moment. Eliot would probably never understand why this had been so important, but he’d be proud.
Proud was good enough.
It took a few seconds for anyone to realize Danny wasn’t getting up.
His stomach sank as he realized he wasn’t walking out of here. Medics suddenly swarmed around him, all his senses on overload as he was questioned about whether or not he was all right, whe
re it hurt, whether he could stand.
He answered as calmly as he could, the cold sinking into his back, and closed his eyes when one of them promised they’d get him out of there and get him some help.
At least he’d definitely be in the hospital in time for surgery this way.
This didn’t solve everything, but the rest was out of his hands, now. The rest was up to Eliot.
Eliot could do it. Danny knew that.
If there was anyone he’d trust his life and his future to, it was him.
He was starting to think he was a little bit in love with the guy.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The moment Danny’s eyes fluttered open, Eliot let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since the moment he’d watched him go down during the game. He’d paused what he was working on to watch it, knowing that he couldn’t spare the time to be there in person, but not wanting to miss at least seeing Danny play.
Eliot still didn’t know a damned thing about hockey, but he knew he was in love with a hockey player.
Well, ex-hockey player now, he supposed. Still. Not knowing didn’t mean he wasn’t impressed.
“Hey,” Eliot said, squeezing Danny’s hand. He’d been holding it since he’d been allowed into the room, waiting for him to wake.
A glance at the clock told him it had been a little over an hour, now.
“Hey,” Danny responded, his voice soft and rough from disuse. “Water?” he asked, coughing as if to emphasize how much he needed it.
Eliot got up and poured him a glass from the jug on the bedside table.
Hockey players evidently had good health insurance.
Danny gulped the water down greedily, sighing when he was done. “Thank you.” He coughed again, but this time from drinking too quickly. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”
“Where else would I be?” Eliot asked innocently.
He knew he hadn’t made it clear how much Danny meant to him. He was going to fix that as soon as he had the chance. Danny meant too much to him to risk losing him now.
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