He could fight the world, though. As long as he didn’t have to fight himself or the people who mattered to him.
Of those, the only one he could control was himself. Everything else was a little scary. More than a little scary. But he wouldn’t beat himself up.
Or he would try not to anyway.
He could talk to Griz about it too. Griz had been around a long time, and he had said something the other day. What was it? Something about Justin making friends. “It didn’t need to be a woman.” Justin hadn’t considered it at the time, but maybe Griz was more perceptive than Justin thought.
Griz had wanted to talk with him too, Gin had said. He’d make a point to go to him tonight. It wasn’t Saturday, but he’d send the old guy a text and see if he was up for a chat later.
He reached into his hoodie pocket to pull out his phone and then remembered he’d put it in the glove box this morning before they trained. He reached in, grabbed it, and saw he had five missed calls in the last hour.
And three texts from Gin.
Where are you?
Need you home.
Now.
Justin’s heart dropped. “Oh no.”
“What’s wrong?” Hale asked, more than concerned. Panicked. Justin’s own panic must be contagious.
“I don’t know,” Justin said. “Bunch of missed calls.”
He dialed Gin. She picked up on the first ring.
“Justin?”
“Gin. What’s wrong?”
“You need to come home.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Griz. Justin, I’m sorry… he’s… dead.”
Justin closed his eyes for a moment. He had the sensation of sinking, the grief trying to overwhelm him like a wave, but he held it at bay. It was okay. They had known this was going to happen. It’s not like he hadn’t been prepared for it. He needed to be present, to help, to get himself home.
“Justin?”
“Yeah. I’m here, it’s just…. How’s Charlie?” It was easier to focus on someone else.
“We’re doing okay, I guess. Just need you home.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Justin?”
“Yeah?”
“They don’t think it was an accident—I mean, it wasn’t natural.”
“I don’t understand.” Now the wave was on him, overwhelming him.
“The nurse was gone, and Devin—he says that how it happened, it doesn’t seem right.”
“Oh God, no….” Justin buried his head in his hands. He thought back to the red-haired man he’d seen leaving Griz’s place. Thought about how once it hadn’t been safe for Griz to be here. But the old guy had come back. Come home. For Justin.
“There’s a lot we don’t know yet,” Gin said after the next moments of silence.
“Don’t say any more. I’ll be home soon. I love you guys.”
“Love you too.”
Justin closed his eyes and took deep, steadying breaths.
“Justin, man, what’s wrong?” That’s right, Hale was in the car with him. God, good thing Hale was driving.
“My friend—my benefactor I told you about—he’s dead.” He said it flatly, without emotion.
“Damn. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything….” Hale paused. “I’ll get you home. Don’t worry about the job tomorrow. I’m sure I can handle it.” Hale reached his hand over. Their seats were not close, but Justin grabbed the proffered hand. Hale gripped it, holding it firmly, before releasing it. Justin felt the absence of the hand keenly.
Maybe it was better not to hold or be held at all. Maybe an ending like Griz’s would be inevitable for the people Justin was close to. The more people in his life, the more people he would have to protect. Justin hadn’t protected Griz.
For the remainder of the ride, his mind replayed the same idea, like a song on repeat—he was the reason Griz was dead.
JUSTIN USUALLY welcomed the silence of home. The quiet was comforting and easy, a refuge from obligation. But not today. Oppressive silence greeted him when he stepped through the doorway. Charlie sat between Devin and Gin, and all three of them were on the sectional, not talking. They’d been looking down, to the side, off into space, not seeing, but when he came in, they turned to him. Stood up. Looked at him. Time seemed momentarily frozen, the absence of sound heavy with loss. A vacuum.
Then Charlie moved, almost running to him. Justin crouched down, embracing the boy and picking him up. At ten years old, Charlie should not be so easy to pick up, should not welcome it like a smaller child. But Justin was going to let Charlie be who Charlie wanted to be.
Gin followed close behind, and Justin embraced the both of them.
“How are you doing?” Gin asked him.
“I’m doing okay.” For now. The uncomfortable quiet spread even to his emotions. He hadn’t cried, but he was finding memories from his youth poking at the edges of his brain, wanting to come out of the little boxes he put them in, wanting to get out. “How are you guys?”
Charlie nodded to him with those wide baby-blue eyes. He didn’t look sad or scared, though this would be his first real experience with death. His eyes did express worry for Justin. That was Charlie’s role though—the caretaker. Like when he’d made Justin little ice presents after the last Fray. Like when he’d helped Griz with his shoes. Griz….
As she moved away, Gin tried to smile, probably for his benefit. Her eyes were sad but dry. She seemed more concerned for Justin than anything else. “We’re okay. We just wanted you home.”
Justin set Charlie down and turned toward Devin. In a moment of awkwardness, he was uncertain of what to do or what to say. Devin was a little unfamiliar for a hug, but a handshake was terribly inadequate. That’s what people did at times like this, give a hug, right? Justin opened his arms and embraced the tall man, patting him on the back. He couldn’t help but take in the spicy scent of aftershave and notice that under the suit, Devin was built well for someone of his age. His embrace was strong. Why was Justin noticing these things now?
“I’m so sorry about your grandfather,” he said to Devin, releasing him.
“I’m sorry too. He was probably more a grandfather to you than he was to me. I didn’t know him until Denver. But I will miss him. He was a great man.”
Justin nodded. “I can’t think of a better way to describe him.”
It was plain Devin had been crying. He looked heartbroken, but other emotions were boiling under the surface. He was restless, a tic in his fingers, eyes that looked everywhere. His jaw was clenched.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Justin asked.
“Not exactly,” said Devin. “We’ll probably never know for sure. But I can’t ignore the signs. The nurse disappeared. I have people looking for him, but I don’t expect to find him.”
“Can you trust the nurse?”
Devin shrugged. “It was a new one. The old one never came back. I don’t think the nurse is the biggest of our worries.”
Justin thought again of the man with red hair and nodded.
Devin continued. “The pillows were placed strangely. As if someone had used one to….” He swallowed and looked away. “It looked like he was propped up when they were done. It didn’t look natural.”
“Would he have been conscious?”
“It looked like it was peaceful. No signs to show otherwise. Maybe he was asleep, or even drugged, but….”
But probably not. Griz was old and weak. He couldn’t fight—or maybe he didn’t even try.
A tear slid down Devin’s cheek, and Justin watched him wipe it away. “But again, it’s not like we’re going to do an autopsy. I don’t need one to tell me what happened. It’s not like the cops would do anything. I have to decide if this is something I want to pursue or if this is bigger than me.” Devin ran his hand over the short hair on his head, then turned to look at Justin. When he continued, his voice was rough. Defeated. “In all honesty this is bigger than me. I don’t think Griz wo
uld want us to look into this. It’s eating me up inside, but that’s really what it comes down to.”
Justin nodded. “You’re right.” Griz wouldn’t want them looking into it. Justin certainly didn’t want Devin looking into it. He didn’t want another person dead because of him. If anyone did something about it, it would be Justin—alone—and he had no idea where to even begin.
“I feel like this is my fault,” Justin offered.
In response all the man did was shake his head, rather sternly. What did that gesture mean? Guilt settled like a weight on Justin’s shoulders.
“I need to go, make some arrangements,” Devin said. “I’ll let you know about the service. I think it’s in our best interest to have it as soon as possible.” He put a steady hand on Justin’s shoulder and attempted a smile. “Don’t be strangers. I don’t know if I’ll be sticking around here much longer, but until then, I expect it’ll be awful lonely up there.”
Justin nodded numbly. Devin hugged Gin and Charlie before leaving.
Awful lonely. Yeah. Justin understood loneliness. His own circle of friends got a lot smaller without Griz.
Shadow Fray. Hale. Griz. All of this was too much coincidence. Justin meets Hale, Griz dies. It was naïve to think there wasn’t a connection. They’d broken the rules. This was a warning. To ignore it could be more deadly than it already was. Who would be next?
He needed to stay away from Hale.
Things suddenly looked very lonely indeed.
THE CARE Bears was unable to hold Justin’s interest. It had been a sweet gesture from Charlie, the choice of cartoon like a message. Charlie liked to work like that, and the boy was extra snuggly before falling asleep on the couch in the crook of Justin’s arm.
But Justin found strangely little comfort in the proximity tonight. Why? He still hadn’t cried. What was wrong with him? If only emotions could be as plain as the silly representations in the cartoon. But his tears wouldn’t come. His feelings had no label. His mind was unable to stick to one thought for very long, constantly veering off and then circling around to where he’d been before.
And always there was Hale. It seemed inappropriate to think of him under these circumstances. Maybe it was because no matter how hard he tried, Justin couldn’t separate Hale from Griz’s death. They had to be connected.
He would bet his dominant punching hand that the old man orchestrated the situation with Hale. It had to be Griz. Hale said he’d gotten a note that told him where to look for Justin. Griz had also encouraged Justin to have a friend. Hell, he’d all but said Justin would never make it alone. The old man hadn’t long left, and it would be just like him to make sure he, Gin, and Charlie had someone to look out for them when he was gone.
Something in Justin’s gut told him that was the deathblow. Griz had said he’d influenced things, but he was never allowed to interfere. Maybe meeting Hale outside an Arena was considered interference, and Griz paid the price.
Only one choice, then. Justin had to back off from Hale before someone else got hurt. He’d have to ask Hale to leave him alone, to give up the job. Could he do that?
Yes. He’d do anything to survive, to keep his family safe.
Counterargument. What if Griz really did die so he and Hale could meet? If Justin backed down, threw it all away, then Griz would have died for nothing. Griz’s death had to mean something. Justin thought back to their last meeting. Had he promised Griz he would try to make friends? He couldn’t remember. Already his memories of the man were slipping away.
No. He couldn’t give up Hale, not completely. They’d have to spend time apart. They definitely couldn’t work together. They couldn’t train together. And they couldn’t be more than friends. He’d keep his promise to Mr. Mays, even if he hadn’t really made one. He’d keep his end of the bargain, but he’d do it in the safest way possible.
Hale wasn’t going to like it, but Justin would have to convince him somehow. It felt like a resolution, but he’d already changed his mind so many times. He didn’t know what to do.
The cartoon ended. Charlie was breathing softly. Gin too had fallen asleep on the other end of the sectional. Very carefully, Justin extricated himself. Charlie stirred and took a deep breath but didn’t wake.
If only Justin could sleep so soundly. But maybe there was a way to decide all of this, a way to finally make a choice.
He stood, waiting for blood to return to his tingling arm before he moved. No—his feet worked just fine. He clenched and unclenched his fingers in a willful act of avoidance. He was delaying the inevitable. He had been all evening.
When he turned on the burner phone from Scarecrow, he was going to have a message. The idea made him cringe, like a punch you could see coming but couldn’t stop. A text message would confirm everything he had been thinking, that someone in Shadow Fray—the Shadow Masters—had orchestrated this whole deadly affair. It would be one more coincidence where there were already too many.
But maybe it would be good to have confirmation. At least then he would know where he stood—that he was right and not just paranoid. So get it over with.
He retreated to the guest room. He was surprised by his steady hand as he pulled out the phone and switched it on.
No. No, he didn’t want to know he was right. Better to be paranoid. Better to at least be able to hope. Maybe things could continue like they were, and he and Hale had a chance for something. Things this morning had felt so right, and not just the sex part—when they were fighting, it was like they were in their own world. When they talked, time flew by.
He took a deep, steadying inhale, waiting for the screen to synch. Please, God. Even though he wasn’t in the habit of praying, he definitely believed in God. He didn’t ask for much, but a sign right now would be nice. Like in a movie from the Old World.
The message would be the sign. If there was a message, he’d back off. He and Hale would separate. Perhaps eventually, Justin could be distant friends with a man in another city.
The phone beeped as it came to life. Found a signal.
If there was no message from Scarecrow, Justin was going to up the ante and kiss Hale. After all, he was finally coming to terms with his feelings. He was stupid for not taking the chance, for not doing it already. He’d been afraid, but now he wouldn’t chicken out. He’d give things a chance. It was a bargain. A bargain with God.
Shit, he should be counting to sixty. How much time had passed? Twenty seconds? He wasn’t supposed to leave it on for more than a minute.
He counted to twenty. Nothing. He’d give it to the count of forty to be safe and then shut it off.
He got to thirty. Thirty-two.
The phone beeped a death knell as the text came through.
10/24. C U Saturday.
Justin turned the phone off.
Chapter 22
IT WAS too good to be true. Hale’s relief could only be measured in comparison to the amount of time he’d spent hoping this was what he’d see when he pulled into work—this exact image. Justin was leaning against the back of the truck, waiting for him.
Hale hadn’t expected to see him today—merely hoped. He had come early like usual, well before sunrise, telling himself he needed the extra time to do the job alone. Lies. He’d come hoping to see this. In the purple predawn, he got a thrill from Justin’s shadowed image—back against the rig, one foot propped behind him, arms crossed.
He pulled his bike into the garage as Justin watched him. Something was off. But of course something was off—Justin’s friend just died. Hale had the urge to jump off his Harley, run to him, and hold him.
As Hale walked to him, Justin didn’t move. The posture that had seemed rugged and sexy now appeared closed off. Justin was trying to shut him out. That was fine. Expected, under the circumstances.
Hale put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. He needed to touch him.
“How are you doing?” he asked gently. Up close, Hale could see Justin looked exhausted, his eyes heavy like he hadn’t s
lept much.
“I’ve been better,” Justin breathed out. Screw this. Hale grabbed him and brought him in for a hug. Justin stiffened but then softened, encircling Hale with his arms. Hale urged Justin’s head down for more closeness. Justin sighed, relaxed completely, and buried his head on Hale’s shoulder.
Hale just held him.
He could feel the occasional tremor, heard a small sniff letting him know Justin was crying. Not hard, but crying nonetheless.
And he was honored. After only a couple days, he knew how closed off Justin could be. Crying on another man’s shoulder wasn’t in Justin’s repertoire. Hale held him a little tighter, flexing his muscles to let Justin know he was strong enough to hold him, that this was okay.
Everything will be okay. That’s what he’d tell Eddie if she started crying, what he wanted to say to Justin now. But Justin wasn’t a child, and as much as Hale wanted to make it okay, he couldn’t. He said the only thing he could. “I got you, and I’m not letting go. You won’t be alone in this.”
Justin sniffled against his shoulder. “God, you’re making this so difficult.”
Making what difficult? Hale sensed Justin was getting ready to pull away and flexed his arms again, holding him even tighter. Nope, he wasn’t letting go. No way. Justin put more of his weight on him then, the tremors becoming more pronounced though the tears were mostly silent.
It took a moment for Hale to think of something he really wanted to say. As he began, he knew his own voice would sound rough. “You know, when my wife died, I cried for months. I didn’t even cry for the right reasons. But you, you have reason to cry. Use me. I’m here for you. Maybe if I wouldn’t have been crying alone, I wouldn’t have cried so long. I could have saved myself so much grief and trouble. So let me do this for you. Let me be here for you.”
He held Justin for a while, and finally his friend calmed down a bit, breathing easier. When Justin pulled away for the third time, Hale let him go but stayed close.
Shadow Fray Page 24