Getting Through (Only You Book 3)

by J. S. Finley

  The cop and Leo both looked doubtful. They shared a look, and he knew no matter how many times he said it, they wouldn’t listen to him.

  He sighed and submitted to the process of Leo cleaning him up. He needed to get to Mike. He didn’t want his boyfriend locked up because he had an issue with some memory or event. Maybe Clay and Thomas almost getting killed had done it.

  The door opened and Mike and the other cop came back in. The cop had Mike in cuffs, his head was down.

  Lane’s heart squeezed, and he hopped up, moving toward Mike but he was stopped by the cop.

  “Mike, honey, are you okay?” Lane asked.

  He nodded but didn’t meet Lane’s gaze. Lane turned to the cop and shook his head.

  “Please take off his cuffs.”

  “We can take him to the station and lock him up for twenty-four hours, give you time to think about pressing charges.”

  Lane shook his head and wanted to yell; instead, he purposely lowered his voice and shook his head again. “No way. I’m not pressing charges.”

  “I don’t think you’ve had time to think properly. Maybe a few hours away from him and you’ll change your mind.”

  “No. I’m not pressing charges. I tripped. I fell down. He didn’t do this.” He couldn’t allow them to take Mike. His man was hurting, and there was something wrong. He wasn’t a jerk.

  Mike met his gaze, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no. Mike didn’t do this. Let him go. Please.”

  The cop who had stayed with him stood up and moved between them. “Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here with Mike. I think you’re allowing your emotions to rule.” The cop turned to look at Mike then back to him. “This Sharron person. Call her and see what she says.”

  Lane pulled out his phone and called Sharron’s private number, praying she picked up. The phone rang four times before there was an answer.

  “Dr. Ross here.”

  “Hi Sharron, it’s Lane.”

  “Lane, it’s good to hear from you. I have high hopes for your friend Mike. What can I do for you?”

  He sighed and met Mike’s gaze. “There’s been an incident. Mike had a bad night. Well, since we sleep during the day it’s night, but I guess for everyone else it’s day.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “The cops”—he sucked in a breath, trying to keep from crying—“they’re here. They want to take him in. I’m begging them to let him go. I don’t want to press charges.”

  Sharron was silent for a moment. “Okay, could you let me talk to one of the officers?”

  “Sure.” He handed his phone to the cop and shrugged. “She wants to talk to you.”

  “Hello.”

  Lane stared at Mike, wishing he would look up. He didn’t want Mike obsessing too much about this. He had to be close to freaking out. He knew better than to go to Mike. The cops would stop him, and it would only make matters worse.

  The officer on the phone with Sharron nodded then turned to face Mike. “Okay, let me talk to them.” He handed the phone back to Lane and moved to stand in front of Mike.

  “Will you go to see Dr. Ross right now?”

  “Yes.” Mike nodded.

  The cop turned to look at Lane. “We could still take him downtown. Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean he has a right to hit you.”

  “No, please don’t take him. Really, he didn’t do it to hurt me. He’s a good guy.”

  The cop shook his head, his lips thinned. “Okay, let him loose.”

  Lane lifted the phone, finding Sharron on the line. “I’ll make an appointment.”

  “Just come down. I’ll see you and Mike this afternoon. His appointment is in a couple of hours anyway, and I’m free for the hour before his appointment.”

  Leo leaned in and caught his gaze. “You still need to be seen by a doctor. I won’t make you go with me in the ambulance, but you need stitches. I’ve applied a butterfly, but you need more.”

  Lane nodded and waited for Leo to move out of his way. He stepped close to Mike who’d just had his cuffs removed. His boyfriend didn’t move, didn’t look up. Lane wrapped his arms tight around him, but Mike didn’t respond at all.

  “Let’s head into the city and go see Sharron.”

  “Okay.” Mike’s voice was hollow; his eyes seemed empty.

  Lane hated everything about this. He wanted the fun, jovial, always willing to crack a joke, quick to smile Mike back. But this was their reality. Mike had some issues, and wishing he wasn’t having those issues didn’t change anything.

  The cops left with Leo. They were alone, and Mike looked defeated. Lane wanted to help him, but he wasn’t sure what he could do.

  “You should have let them arrest me. After what I did to you, I need to be in jail.”

  Lane shook his head. “No, not jail. You might need treatment, but you don’t need jail. Being behind bars won’t help you.”

  “I really hurt you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Come on, we need to go see Sharron.”

  Mike nodded then closed his eyes before heading into the bedroom. Lane followed and changed clothes, deciding to put on sweats and a shirt he didn’t care about just in case someone in the ER decided to be funny and threaten to cut him out of his clothes. He slipped his shoes on and watched Mike. Worry filled him. Though he’d been friends with Mike for years, he didn’t know the guy really well. What if everything he thought he knew about Mike was wrong? But this was Mike, his buddy. He wasn’t mean or evil. He was a nice guy who was his friend, and Lane wasn’t wrong about him. Mike wasn’t doing this on purpose, it wasn’t his fault.

  They rode in silence, only speaking when they needed to. They both got strange looks, and a couple of people stepped away quickly when they saw them. Mike seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into himself. Something had to change. He couldn’t allow Mike to slip away.

  Lane followed Mike up the elevator to Sharron’s office. They stepped in as Sharron came out to the reception area. Her steps faltered when she saw Lane, but she quickly recovered as she turned to Mike.

  “I believe Lane needs to head down to the ER for some treatment. I’d like to have you come in and we can discuss what happened.”

  Mike nodded but didn’t say anything. Lane tried to get his attention, but Mike wouldn’t even look at him. He felt like crap. Everything was going to hell and he had no idea how to fix it. Sharron took Mike to her office, and he left the reception room to head to the ER.

  A doctor he knew took one look at him and rolled his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Lane said.

  “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

  His stomach turned as desperation filled him. He didn’t want anyone to wish Mike was worse off. Hell, Mike was the best guy he knew

  “You know, if you came in like this more than once I’d be worried. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The doctor nodded then led him to a bed where he was poked, prodded, and eventually stitched up. An hour later, he was back in Sharron’s office. The door to the office opened, and Mike and Sharron stepped out.

  “Oh good, you’re back. Mike and I had a good talk. Would you like to come back and we can talk?”

  “Yes.” He followed them into Sharron’s office and sat next to Mike. He held out his hand, worried Mike wasn’t going to take it. One second went past then two, after four seconds, Mike wove his fingers with Lane’s. He still hadn’t met his gaze, but this was a step in the right direction.

  “Mike told me about the conversation you had with your friends in Florida. I believe that triggered an episode.”

  Mike shivered and Lane squeezed his fingers. Mike glanced up and met his gaze, holding the look for a few seconds. Deep in there, past the guilt and sadness, he saw Mike. They could recover from this, if Mike allowed it.

  “So Mike, you hav
e something you want to say to Lane.”

  Lane held his breath, praying his man didn’t do something stupid. He waited, but Mike didn’t speak up.

  “This is a safe place, Mike. You can say anything here,” Sharron said.

  “I-I’m afraid. I don’t—I can’t… I feel bad. I shouldn’t have hit you. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

  Sharon cleared her throat. “It’s okay, Mike. Say what you wanted to.”

  Mike blew out a breath and Lane feared what was coming next. “I need help. I feel awful about what happened. I don’t—I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

  Lane leaned closer to Mike. “I’m going to be fine.”

  Mike shook his head. “You look awful. What if—”

  “No what if’s,” Lane said.

  “I can’t take the chance I’ll really hurt you.”

  Lane reached up and held Mike’s face so they were looking at each other. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re together. That’s it. End of story. I’m yours and you’re mine, and we will deal with this together.”

  Mike’s lower lip quivered, and he drew in a breath that sounded more like a sob. “I feel so bad.”

  “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get through this. You’re the only one for me. The only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I need you, Mike, no one else.”

  Mike nodded and wiped at his eyes, swiping away the moisture running down his cheeks. They had a lot to work through, but he had faith they could get through this.

  “I think it would be good if Mike set up appointments every day for the next week. We’ll start working through his issues and start doing some biofeedback therapy.”

  “Do you think he’ll be good for the study?” Lane asked.

  Sharron nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “We’ve talked about using meditation and how to spot trouble before it happens.”

  “I swear I’ll be better,” Mike said.

  Lane squeezed his fingers. “I trust you.”

  Mike shivered. “I don’t know that you should.”

  “I’m going to trust you. I know you’re a good man, and I love you. I want you in my life.”

  Mike blew out a breath, relief passing over his face. He looked down then glanced up quickly, catching Lane’s gaze. Lane never wanted to forget this moment. Mike was broken, there was no question about it, but in the one brief moment, he’d seen how utterly connected they were. Together, they would make it.

  “We’ll set up your week of appointments now and then we’ll get you in to see the neurologist. I’ll be in tomorrow to see you, and we’ll start once a day on Monday.”

  Mike nodded and glanced at Lane again, his gaze shifting away quickly. There was guilt and pain in Mike’s gaze. They left the office, and Sharron followed them out to the receptionist desk.

  “When would you like to come in? I have openings at eight in the morning next week.”

  “Works for me,” Lane said. “I could shower here at the hospital and ride back to my place with you.”

  “Sure.” Mike nodded and pulled out his phone, making a note of the appointment times. Sharron shook their hands before they left. Mike was quiet on the way out of the hospital. Before they left the building, Mike stopped him. “Don’t you have to work tonight?”

  He shook his head. “Um, they gave me the night off.”

  “Oh.” They walked outside and caught a bus, heading to a connector where they could pick up the bus to his apartment.

  They made it home, and he worried Mike wasn’t going to feel comfortable with him for a while. He needed to break the ice fast.

  “Hey, I want you to know I really do want you in my life.”

  Mike nodded but didn’t say anything. They headed into the bedroom and Mike paused, looking at the blood on the sheets and the smear on the wall.

  “I fucked up.”

  “I want you to think about something.”

  “What?”

  “Could we Skype with the guys? I think if you told them, maybe you could get some relief.”

  “What if they think I’m being ridiculous? I mean, who else has needed help?”

  Lane held out his hand. Mike eventually took his, squeezing his fingers. “I did. You don’t know what the rest of the guys have been going through. We need to open up, really open up and be honest.”

  “Do you think they’ll be pissed?”

  Lane shook his head. “Why would they be?”

  “Because I beat the shit out of you. You haven’t looked in the mirror lately. You look terrible.”

  Lane chuckled, wincing in pain. “They’ll be fine.”

  Mike shook his head, then nodded, and closed his eyes, pain marring his features. “I’m so sorry.”

  Lane moved in close and cupped Mike’s cheeks. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

  10

  Mike wasn’t sure why Lane was being so nice. He shouldn’t be forgiven. He should be kicked out. Skyping with the guys scared the shit out of him. But Lane had insisted, and he guessed he needed to just go with it.

  Once he agreed, Lane sent a text, saying he needed to talk to everyone, and he thought Skype would be the best option for them. The guys all responded and agreed to Skype at eight that evening.

  His stomach twisted, and he fought to hold it together. Every time he looked at Lane, his heart squeezed. He’d caused his lover pain, a lot of pain, though he hadn’t meant to. He needed help or he needed to leave. He knew it would be better for Lane if he took off, but for some reason, he couldn’t walk away from the man.

  The time for them to Skype was approaching, and his anxiety was rising. He kept chewing on his fingernails and cuticles or pacing or both. He turned to Lane, flinching when he saw the bruise around his eye growing darker.

  “I-I don’t think I can do this. They’re going to hate me because I beat you up. I hit you, and they’ll be pissed.”

  “They all love you, and they’ll understand. They were there, they know what you went through.”

  Ice churned through his veins. “But I hit you. They’ll take one look and won’t listen to what I say.”

  “What if I’m not on camera at first. You can explain, then they’ll understand.”

  His heart was pounding so hard, and his palms were sweaty. “I’m scared.”

  “I’m here for you. I’m not walking away.”

  He nodded then paced to the door then back over. “Okay, if you stay off screen then let them see after I’ve explained. Maybe I could—” He squeezed his forehead, anger pumping hard. He felt Lane’s hand on his shoulder, and he sighed then pulled him into a hug, trying to be gentle.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mike said through his tears.

  “I know. I also know you didn’t do this on purpose.”

  He shook his head. “I’m so angry with myself.”

  “I want you to meditate tonight. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  He nodded, wondering if he was risking too much. If he beat up Lane again, it would end their relationship. Fear filled him, and he wasn’t sure he could be the person Lane needed him to be.

  The alarm Lane had set on his phone beeped. Mike’s heart sped up, and his head spun. Sweat formed on his brow and neck. How could he explain this to the guys?

  Lane pulled away and moved the table where he’d set his computer. Mike grabbed his computer and set it on the table next to Lane’s. He waited for it to spin up as he stared at the carpet, wondering if he had gone crazy. When he opened Skype, his hands shook. As he made the connection to their group call, his stomach churned.

  Then he was connected and so were Thomas and Clay. After a few seconds, Brent and Jake were on. He feared their reaction. What if they rejected him? They could kick him out of their group, and he’d be alone.

  “Hey, where’s Lane?” Thomas asked.

  “I’m here.” Lane glanced at him and gave him a smile. It didn’t help.

  “We can’t see you,” Brent said.

 
“Why you hiding?” Clay asked.

  Lane spoke. “Guys, I need you to calm down and listen to Mike.”

  “Okay,” Brent said.

  Mike was shaking, unsure if his voice would even work. He cleared his throat and then cleared it again. His friends’ eyes were on him, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “Um, I-I have a problem.” Mike stammered over the words, his confidence at an all-time low.

  The guys leaned forward, crowding together. Brent put his arm around Jake. The show of love made his heart squeeze. He’d hurt Lane so much he didn’t think he had the right to request anything of the man, especially not a hug.

  “What’s up?” Thomas asked.

  “I’ve been…um, I’ve been hiding something from all of you.” He looked down at his lap and shook his head. The monster in his head was winning as his thoughts turned dark. “I’m—” The beast roared, and he had to fight to keep it under control. It wasn’t fair what had happened to them, to Benjamin or the thousands of other men who had signed up to stop terrorism or fight the good fight and ended up blown to pieces.

  Anger flashed, and he wanted to flip over the table and walk away. Deep inside, he knew it was the wrong reaction. His anger was out of control. The monster inside his head wouldn’t die. For some reason, Lane thought telling their friends would help him, but he feared the monster would swamp them all, ruining whatever thread of hope and friendship existed between them.

  “Hey, buddy, you’re our friend. We love you.” Brent’s words brought tears to his eyes.

  They were all so understanding, but would it last? “I’ve messed up.” His words were low, and he knew they wouldn’t be able to hear him if he didn’t speak up.

  “It’s okay,” Clay said.

  “No, it’s not.” He looked at Lane, and pain filled him. Then Lane reached out and took his hand. When he looked back at the screen he saw the guys were looking at him weirdly. They could see Lane’s arm, but they didn’t know it was Lane. He had to tell them everything.

  Mike took a ragged breath and shook his head, clearing the emotions threatening to spill over and turn him into something he didn’t want to be. His stomach had twisted tight, and he wanted to throw up. But he would face this mess, because that’s what he had to do for Lane, for himself, and for his friends. Lane was right, Benjamin would be pissed if he hid from life.