* * *
The next time I woke up, Mia was curled up in the brown leather chair. Her hair was a riot, and I mumbled out a laugh that made her shoulder sag with obvious relief. “Fucking hell, Gus. Do you think we could have six months without one of you boys ending up in this place?”
“Nice to see you too.”
“Shut up. If you weren’t so banged up already I’d kill you myself.”
Her spiky edges were as comforting as a hug. And I felt a million times better than I had when I’d last opened my eyes.
I sat up cautiously and held out my hand.
She took it and dug her nails into my palm. “You lucky bastard. You’d be dead if it wasn’t for Billy. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. The nurse told me, and the doctor. What happened? I don’t remember—” I broke off with a cough.
Mia brought a glass of tepid water to my lips and helped me drink.
It stayed down. For the first time in however long it had been, my stomach didn’t rebel. I drank some more, then lay back on the bed.
Mia rubbed my arm. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m a mess.”
“You nearly died, brother.”
“I don’t just mean that.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I’m guessing, seeing as Billy is a mess too. Things really got on top of you two, didn’t they?”
“I think so. My head’s too fuzzy for me to explain it.”
“You don’t need to explain it. At least not to me. And definitely not the details. I don’t need a visual of what you and Billy have been doing to each other.”
Neither did I right then, but even a carbon monoxide hangover couldn’t stop the rush of warmth that filled my chest when I thought of Billy. It was as though I’d flipped a switch and erased the angsty week we’d just lived through, and we were still riding the magical nights we’d spent in my bed. “I need to see him.”
“I know. But he needed to sleep, and eat. He was sick all night too.”
“How bad?”
Mia shrugged. “Not as bad as you, and he doesn’t have a concussion, but he didn’t look so hot.”
My chest hurt, but the doctor had warned me to expect it, along with the constant nausea, fatigue, and a skull-crushing headache. Oh, and memory loss, confusion, and stiff muscles.
I closed my eyes for a bit. Sometime later, they moved me to a different ward and kicked Mia out.
“I’ll be back for afternoon visiting hours.”
I shifted awkwardly onto my side, trailing the oxygen tubes and the IV with me. “Don’t bother if you’re knackered. Get some rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yeah well. You could’ve told me that twelve hours ago when I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry.”
Mia sighed. “Me too. About everything. I shouldn’t have ripped your head off about Billy last week. I was just worried about Luke.”
“I know that. You told me on the phone when you apologised a week ago. We don’t need to go over it again.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. I don’t have it in me to argue with you right now. Just leave it, okay?”
“What about Billy?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. I shrugged, and Mia left. A doctor came past, cranked up my oxygen, and told me to rest. I passed out for a few hours, and when I woke up, I was still alone with Billy on my mind.
It seemed fitting somehow. I couldn’t clearly remember how we’d left things, or why. Just that it was a royal mess that was making us both miserable, and we were running out of chances to fix it.
“Do you want something to eat?”
I blinked. A hospital worker was at the end of my bed. “Hmm?”
“It’s lunchtime. You didn’t order anything, but I can get you a sandwich if you like?”
“Nah. You’re all right. Thank you.”
“Sure? You need to keep your strength up.”
Logic told me she was right, but I could already smell the food being distributed on the ward, and I was pretty sure that even in my pre-carbon-monoxide days, I’d have turned it down. As it was, food was the last thing on my mind. Actually, no. That wasn’t true. After hours and hours of purging, my stomach was painfully empty, but for once I welcomed the sensation of being hungry. With my heart in tatters, it reminded me I was alive.
I lay back on the bed, trying to ignore the fact that I needed a piss. Standing up felt like scaling a mountain, and the vertigo a passing doctor had mentioned was no joke. I rubbed my stomach and closed my eyes. Behind my eyelids, the world stopped rocking, and Billy filled my mind. I pushed away memories of his anger and frustration and pictured him in the lake in the woods, naked and laughing. And in my kitchen, grinning as I demolished his latest attempt to cook real food.
My belly hurt, and my heart did too. And my brain played tricks on me. Beyond the cool blast of oxygen, I smelt Billy’s lemon shampoo and French washing powder, and my dreams made me cry.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Billy
Luke held me hostage all day. He fed me soup and paracetamol and made me sleep. I tried to stay awake so I could sneak out when he finally gave in and dozed off too, but his military years gave him the edge, and I was out cold long before him.
It was early evening by the time he agreed to drive me back to the hospital. “He won’t be awake,” he said. “Mia told you already he was knocked out all afternoon.”
“I don’t care if he’s awake.”
“I know. I’m just worried about you. They said you needed to rest too.”
“I did rest.”
Luke said other words, but I tuned him out and counted the junctions before the turnoff to the hospital, so I’d be ready to jump the moment he pulled up outside.
He didn’t try and stop me. “Chestnut Ward,” he shouted after me. “At the back.”
I waved and jogged away. Inside, I followed the signs to the back of the hospital and the ward Gus had been moved to. I hadn’t seen him since they’d carried him away on a stretcher, and my heart was in my throat. Mia had promised me he was going to be fine, that he was fine beyond the aftereffects of what he’d been through, but I didn’t believe it. The short exposure I’d had to the leaky boiler had put me on my knees. I couldn’t imagine how Gus felt.
Or actually, I could. I’d done nothing but imagine it every second I’d been awake, and all I had for my trouble was a scratchy chest, and a weird headache I couldn’t quite shift.
I found the ward and signed in at the nurse station. The ward sister directed me to Gus’s bed. “He was asleep last time I checked on him, but you might get lucky.”
I’d got lucky the day I’d set a bomb under my life and wound up in Gus’s spare room. I thanked the nurse and hurried to the bed at the end of the ward.
I slipped past the curtain, bracing myself for the sight of Gus strung out on the bed, unconscious, asleep, whatever.
But he wasn’t asleep. He was sat on the edge of his bed, contemplating the floor, with tear stains marring his lovely face.
He didn’t look up as I approached him. Before I’d left the house, Mia had pressed a foil-wrapped omelette and a bottle of orange squash into my hands. I set them quietly on the bedside unit, dropped the bag of clothes I also brought on the floor, and unpeeled Gus’s hand from the mattress. It had a cannula taped into the back. Dried blood stained the tape, and I sucked in a breath noisy enough to rouse Gus from his daze.
His head jerked up. He blinked. “Billy?”
“It’s me.” I squeezed his fingers. “Are you okay? Cos not gonna lie, mate. You look like shit.”
Gus started to smile, but his bloodshot eyes were still wet.
I let go of his hand, pulled my sleeve over my fist, and caught his fresh tears as t
hey fell. He let me, and it felt almost surreal. I never thought I’d ever see him cry, and he wasn’t exactly sobbing into his pillow, but his distress cut me to the bone.
His face was a wreck—cracked lips, red eyes, and the ugly bruise on his temple. I ran my fingers lightly over the bruise. He didn’t flinch, but his gaze seemed to sharpen, and he blinked again.
He caught my wandering hands and searched my face. “It’s really you, right? Not some messed-up dream?”
“It’s me. I’m here. I promise.”
His eyes filled again, and this time, I didn’t wait for the tears to fall. I wrapped him in my arms and held him as tight as I dared while he buried his face against my shoulder.
It was tempting to tell him everything was going to be okay. But I didn’t know that, about this or anything else. So I rubbed his back and kept my mouth shut. Maybe one day I’d tell him I loved him. Maybe even today, but not yet.
Gus grew still. His hitched breaths evened out, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. I didn’t mind. He was as heavy as he’d been when I’d dragged him from the death cottage, but at the same time, holding him like this made me feel as light as air.
He wasn’t asleep, though. Eventually he raised his head to look at me, and licked his dry lips. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. Everything?”
“Like what? You’ve never done anything bad to me. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a pain in the arse drama queen who makes everything about himself?”
“You don’t do that.”
“Not as much as I used to, but it’s definitely my fault we haven’t had a conversation in more than a week.”
“That long?”
“Yup.”
“Damn. I can’t remember why. I mean, I can...but I can’t remember why it was so important. I love you. I don’t care about anything else.”
It was my turn to slow blink. I glanced at the IV feeding medication into his veins. Was he high as balls? Or did he just tell me he loved me and actually fucking mean it? With his gaze flickering in and out of awareness, it was hard to tell. Would he remember if I said it back?
Did it matter if he didn’t? It wasn’t like I was incapable of saying it twice.
I held his face again, fingers skimming his cheekbone. “I don’t care about anything else right now either, except the fact that I love you too, so fucking much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I blew out a long breath and felt some of the baggage around my soul shift. “These last few months have been magic. I know I’m not the easiest person to live with, but you’re... I don’t know—I just feel like a better person around you.”
“Better than what?”
“Better than I am without you.”
Gus opened his mouth and took a breath. Then his expression changed, and he winced.
I let go of his face and rubbed his arms. “What’s the matter?”
“I need to take a piss.”
“So?”
He frowned. “That floor is really weird, man.”
I followed his gaze to the linoleum floor. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, but it seemed normal enough to me. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s bendy. I don’t want to fall over.”
“Oh. You mean you’ve got vertigo?”
“How do you know?”
“Because I had it a little bit this morning. It’s why Luke wouldn’t let me come and get up in your face before now.”
Gus’s frown deepened. “I don’t remember this morning.”
“I think you were asleep for most of it.”
“Okay.”
It wasn’t okay. Nothing about seeing Gus like this was even close. But right now, it was all we had.
A nurse came and disconnected his IV so I could help him off the bed.
I steered him to the bathroom. He was dressed in a hospital gown that showed too much of his glorious body to the world for my liking, but his bed was close enough to the corridor that we didn’t pass anyone on the way.
In the bathroom, he leant on me while he relieved himself. Then I stood him against the sink while I went back for the toothbrush and toothpaste Mia had packed for him.
He brushed his teeth and washed his face, and when he looked at me again, his gaze seemed clearer than it had before. Brighter. He ran his fingers over the scruff on my jaw. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
“Fuck off.”
“Rude.”
“Yeah. But I don’t want to hear you say that shit again. You nearly died—” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The doctor told Mia you’re ridiculously lucky that fucking poison gas didn’t damage your brain, or kill you.”
“It didn’t kill me, though, did it? Because you came back for me. Fuck, I remember now.” Gus screwed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. “You came back for me. Why did you do that?”
“Because leaving you was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it, and I’m not going to do it again. Like, ever. And I’m not going to leave Luke either. I’m so fucking sorry I made you think that. And that I made you feel like it was on you to stop me.”
Gus leant heavily on the sink. “Is that what happened?”
“I think so. I mean, I don’t know what else you had going on in your head at the time, but I know you felt like if I left Rushmere again, and me and Luke didn’t talk anymore, it would be all your fault for shagging me.”
“Wow. I really thought my dick had the power, huh?”
“I don’t know. But even if you don’t remember that, or this conversation, I need you to know I’m not going anywhere, okay? I love you, and I love my brother. I’m here to stay.”
“I love you too, but I think I’m too hungry to understand what the rest of it means.”
A sudden laugh burst from my chest, unnaturally loud in the cramped bathroom, but I didn’t care. If Gus was hungry, I could fix that. And if he loved me even a fraction of how much I loved him? Fuck. Maybe there was nothing we couldn’t fix.
* * *
Gus ate, then fell asleep. And when he woke again, he was lucid enough that I recognised the man staring at our joined hands.
He treated me to a slow smile. “I thought I’d dreamt you.”
“Nope. I’m right here making your nightmares come true.”
“As if. I didn’t think I’d get to do this again.”
“Do what?”
He raised our joined hands. “This. I thought I’d messed it up for good.”
“You didn’t mess it up. I did.”
“No, you really didn’t. I should’ve deleted Grindr off my phone the second I realised I couldn’t be with anyone else.”
“When was that?”
“About three seconds after you moved in.”
“That fast, eh?”
“Yeah. You...do something to me no one else ever has. It scares me, but if you meant what you said earlier about sticking around, I’m done running from it.”
“You remember what I said earlier?” Relief spread through me like soft summer rain. “No offence, but you were pretty out of it.”
“I remember.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Tell me what I said.”
Gus shifted on the bed. “Okay, I don’t remember all of it, but you meant what you said, right? About loving me back? You weren’t just trying to make me feel better—”
I silenced him with a kiss. I’d tell him I loved him all day long if he needed me to, but knowing he remembered even half of our earlier conversation made me fucking giddy. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. I really do love you.”
Gus smiled before he sobered again with a frown I was sick
of seeing. “I love you too, Billy. I really do. But I can’t get over how much that scares me. I’ve always been like this... I hit a roadblock when I get emotional. It’s like a wall goes up and I can’t see a way round it except the very worst thing, you know?”
“I know it. Have you ever met Luke?”
“I’m not like Luke. He gets there eventually.”
“You don’t?”
Gus shrugged and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know. I’m not explaining it very well.”
“Shift up then. We might be here awhile.”
“What time is it?”
“Late, but the ward sister said I can stay a bit longer if we’re quiet. She felt bad for me when you slept through visiting hours.”
“Sorry.” Gus moved up so I could perch on the side of his bed. My thigh pressed against his felt amazing, and it was almost enough to distract me from the turmoil clouding his tired gaze.
Almost. Because there was nothing about his pain I could ever ignore.
I bent down and kissed his forehead.
He smiled a little.
Not a lot, but enough to let me know he was okay.
I straightened the tubes on his face. “If you remember me confessing my undying love, I’m hoping you also remember the bit where I told you I’m not going anywhere. I’m so fucking sorry I lost my head over those messages. I’m just so used to the people around me being horrible pieces of shit, I forgot who you were.”
“So you believe me when I tell you I hadn’t been on Grindr for weeks before that all happened?”
“Yeah, but even if you had, that would be okay too. I mean, what were we even doing all that time?”
Gus made a frustrated noise. “Nothing that involved fucking other people. Jesus Christ, Billy. Is it that hard for you to accept you’re enough for me? That you have been from the start?”
Maybe it was. But Gus was the most honest soul I’d ever met, and we’d run out of time for old ghosts to say otherwise. I took his hands and squeezed them. “Okay. But I need you to understand it’s not a choice between you and Luke. If we fuck this up, you’re still stuck with me, because I’m not leaving my brother.”
Unforgotten (Forgiven) Page 21