by Jaime Reese
∞ ♥ ∞
Vann stilled in the car. Drayton was officially losing his fucking mind. He walked around the front of the car over to Vann’s side and swung open the passenger door, barely missing the metal guardrail framing the edge of the drop into the high trees.
“What the hell are you doing?” Vann yelled over the sound of the highway and the cars speeding by.
“Get out of the car.”
“You’re fucking crazy!”
“We’re talking. You don’t want to do it in the car, we’re doing it out here.”
Vann remained in the passenger seat, staring at this possessed version of Drayton he didn’t recognize. Over the course of their friendship, the lanky, cute-as-hell bookworm with the thick-framed glasses had transitioned into a lean, sexy smart-as-hell boyfriend who’d colored far too many fantasies when they were together. But it seemed Drayton had gone through yet another transformation during the last decade. He’d managed to fully develop that often hidden layer of confidence he had always been reluctant to show to others. He stood poised, exuded strength, and commanded attention. It was sexy as all hell and a bright flashing indication to Vann that Drayton had moved on and become the strong, independent man Vann always knew he’d become.
All without Vann at his side.
He couldn’t see how he fit in the equation anymore, and the striking confirmation of what he had suspected while doing his time had suffocated him from the moment he’d clicked his belt in place and they’d begun the long drive to the halfway house.
Drayton had moved on.
Drayton had moved on…without him.
“Get out of the fucking car. Now!”
Vann swallowed heavily. He unclipped his belt and pushed out of the car, standing in the small distance between the parked car and the metal guardrail offering the only protection from the steep drop into the trees that didn’t seem to look as nice now as they did when they were speeding by in a blur.
“Talk to me, Vann. Say something. Say anything!”
Vann crossed his arms and sneered at the honking car that sped by. If they kept lingering out here on the side of the highway, neither of them would be yelling or talking for much longer. Drayton yelled again and Vann finally mirrored his stance. “What do you want me to say?”
“Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me these last ten years?”
Vann scowled. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me?”
“No, I don’t have a fucking clue. You know why?” Drayton took a step forward when Vann didn’t answer. “Because you didn’t let me visit you and you didn’t write back! Ten years, Vann. Ten. Fucking. Years. You want to know what it’s been like for me? It’s been hell. A painful, lonely hell without you.”
Vann took a deep breath. “Ditto.”
Drayton planted his hands on his hips and quieted, shaking his head after a few moments. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. Why did you refuse to see me?”
“I…told you why in that letter. It would have been too hard.” He forced each breath in and out. There was so much he wanted to say but didn’t have a right to say any of it. He’d lost all rights to anything with Drayton the moment he had set foot in that prison. And even though Drayton hadn’t said anything, everything about him was different. He was more confident than ever and exuded success. He looked stunning, more striking as if that were even possible. All clear signs Drayton had found a way to move on.
“Bullshit.”
Vann clenched his jaw. “No, Dray. Not bullshit. You think it was easy for me to not see you? Do you think I wanted to do it on my own?” Do you think I wanted to give you up?
Drayton stepped forward, his mouth set in a straight, firm line. “Bullshit. What aren’t you telling me?”
“I killed your fath—”
“He was trying to kill me,” Drayton yelled. “You saved me!”
“I. Killed. Your. Father! I can’t ever take that back. I ripped apart your family because I was with you.”
Drayton vehemently shook his head. “We did nothing wrong. Nothing! He was the homophobic son of a bitch worried about what people thought. He was the one who came into my bedroom in the middle of the night swinging a nine iron. Had you not been there, I’d be the one dead right now.”
Vann quieted. He hated remembering that day. The memory always too vivid in his mind and impossible to ignore. Seeing Drayton, unmoving, covered in blood with his father hovering over him ready to swing again. He remembered the pain, the aching hollowness in his chest when he held Drayton’s limp body in his arms. He could still hear the echo of his yell, begging Drayton to breathe again.
“Vann! Are you listening to me?”
He shook his head, returning to the here and now and—what the fuck—craziness of standing on the highway shoulder that was barely the width of a car.
“I know my hell was different than yours. But I chose you!”
Vann scowled and swung his arms open in frustration. “What the hell does that even mean?”
Drayton looked up to the heavens as a growl tore from his lips. “Were you not listening to me? After that day, my mother forced me to decide…you or the family reputation and everything that came with it. I chose you.”
The sound of the honking horns faded into the sudden buzz in his head. Drayton walked up to him and cupped his face.
Vann gasped at the contact. No one had touched him that way in so long that every dormant neuron in his system took notice and sparked to life.
“Vann,” Drayton said with a sigh, brushing his thumb along his shaved jaw. “You were worth more to me than the family name and money. I never stopped loving you. Never. Not for a single second. Not when my mother disowned me, not when she stripped me of my trust fund, and not when she kicked me out of the house without a penny to my name. Not. Once. You’re always here,” he said, pointing the tip of his finger to his temple. “And here,” he added, placing his palm against his chest. “That’s never changed.” He stared, waiting for a response.
Vann couldn’t breathe. His throat was tight, and it took entirely too much effort to focus on anything past the hum in his body.
“And I know you wrote that letter to protect me. I. Know. That. I never second-guessed that for a moment. But I didn’t want to move on without you. The only reason I was able to move forward is because I imagined you there, with me. Every single step of the way. I never, for a single second, lost hope that you would be out of there. I guess…I guess I didn’t think you’d…” Drayton hesitated then cursed under his breath. He released Vann’s face and his throat worked as he swallowed heavily. “Did…you stop loving me back?”
Vann couldn’t think clearly enough to string together the thoughts struggling in his brain. Drayton still loved him? Drayton. Still. Loved. Him. “I…I couldn’t see the moon anymore.”
Drayton’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.
I feel so fucking stupid. Inside, there wasn’t much to hold on to, just random memories. It was amazing how the brain managed to grab onto the tiniest of things and make them the foundation for something grand. “You told me…‘whenever I look up and see the moon, you’ll know I’m looking up at that same moon thinking about how much I love you.’ I…I couldn’t see the moon from my cell,” he finished on a whisper, shocked he had been able to push the words through the knot that had lodged itself in his throat.
“You think that meant I stopped loving you?”
Vann shrugged. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew it was silly. But rational thought wasn’t always at the forefront when stuck in a small concrete square for so many years surrounded by a group of inmates classified as brutes and savages. “I haven’t seen the moon since I went in.” He finally looked up and made eye contact with Drayton. He had to look away again from the intensity in those gray eyes. “I figured there was no way you could ever see me differently after what I did, and I couldn’t stand that.” He swallowed heavily, trying to voice his thoughts. �
�But you were always the nice guy, trying to do what was right. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come see me. You just didn’t fit in a place like that. And…I didn’t want you to see me in there. I knew you’d be sad and I couldn’t stand the thought of doing that to you. I made my decision that day. And I accepted the fact that I took a life and had to pay for that with mine in return. But I didn’t want you to trade in yours too and be forced to see me when there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d ever get out. That wasn’t fair to you. You were free to have a life and I didn’t want to hold you back from living it,” he finished, pushing the words through his now gravelly voice.
“So you made the decision for me?”
“I was trying to do the right thing for once in my fucked-up life.”
“Don’t ever make a decision for me without talking to me first. Do you understand?”
Vann nodded.
Drayton pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around him. “After you’re settled in, we’re going to talk this out and we’re going to work through whatever we need to work through. I love you, Vann. I always have and always will. If you don’t love me, tell me right now, and I swear, I’ll stop.” He released Vann from the embrace but braced his arms as he searched his features.
Vann scowled. “You always saw through my bullshit. No sense lying to you now.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Drayton’s mouth and a sudden calmness washed over his expression.
“When the hell did you become so damn bossy?” Vann asked.
The smile finally broke free. “Damn I missed you.”
Vann reached out then hesitated. He had no right to ask anything more of Drayton after everything he had done for him already. Dray couldn’t possibly understand how important he was to him—being a part of the only happy moments in his life and how his letters helped him stay sane during the last ten years. His fingers itched to touch him. His soul craved the reconnection and begged for the contact. He pulled his hand away then glanced up at Drayton, hoping to hide the pain ripping through his body. He wanted to touch him again, to feel those arms wrapped around him, holding him close.
“It’s okay,” Drayton said, taking his hand and pulling him into an embrace.
Vann sighed, soaking in the warmth of Drayton’s body enveloping him. He eased into the hold, perfectly molding against Drayton’s lean-muscled frame. The pain of separation ebbed and a calming peace began to spread through his limbs. He had missed this more than he could ever explain—a feeling of wholeness and rightness he only ever felt in Drayton’s presence.
He groaned when a honking horn of a passerby burst their private bubble. “We need to get off this highway. It would really suck if we became roadkill.”
“Get in the car,” Drayton said, finally releasing him then turning away to walk around the car to the driver’s side.
Vann didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly opened the door and jumped back into the safety of the quiet cockpit-like cocoon. Drayton waited until a few cars passed then opened the driver side door and slid inside, closing the door, finally silencing the chaos around them.
“You’re fucking crazy, Dray.”
“Yeah, well. That’s what you’ve always done to me,” Drayton said, clipping his seat belt in place and ending the conversation.
Vann took another deep breath, reveling in the silence for the rest of the drive to the halfway house as he processed everything Drayton had said in the last few hours. Not a word had been spoken in the last two hours, but a different type of quiet had settled between them, almost an understanding in the absence of the tension that had been tangible since they’d left the prison.
Night had fallen by the time they pulled into the rear parking lot of a large home sandwiched within—what looked like—a business district. He pulled the pen from the spiral spine of the notebook, jotted down a quick note on the inside cover, and reclosed it.
Drayton shifted the car to park and remained seated as the car idled.
“Was that considered our first fight?” Vann asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. We’ve never yelled at each other and I don’t want to start now.”
Vann quieted. The tension was less, but the air between them was far from the comforting ease he remembered, punctuating the growing chasm threatening to keep them apart. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Drayton pivoted his head against the headrest to face him. “Tell you what?”
Vann looked down at the notebook in his hand, flicking the edge with his thumb. “What your mother did. You never mentioned her disowning you.” He looked over to Drayton. “Why didn’t you tell me you were alone?”
“You wouldn’t see me.”
“But you didn’t include it in any of the letters.” Vann looked away, fidgeting with the notebook again.
“I didn’t want there to be anything negative. I imagined it was tough being inside and…I didn’t want to risk saying anything to make things worse. I thought focusing on our moments, memories…the positive things would be better. I thought that might…help.”
Vann glanced up, looking out the front windshield at the house that would be his home for the next few months. “You didn’t tell me about the car line. What you invented. You didn’t tell me about changing your name,” he said, distantly. There was so much that had changed and so much he didn’t know. Every letter from Drayton reminisced about some moment of their years together. Each letter was positive, happy, and light but barely a mention of present-day events, especially life-changing ones. He craved knowing the milestones, but missed the tiniest of things—if Drayton still hated tomatoes in his salad, if he still hated wearing anything orange or red, if the rare cool breeze hitting his face still made him smile.
“Taking your name would have led you to think something—”
“Dray, don’t,” Vann said in a reprimand, turning to face him again. “We both held back here. And I admit I fucked up by not sending you letters or having you come visit. I had my reasons but…” He shook his head, needing to dispel the million thoughts racing through his mind. Nothing he wrote ever came out right. He couldn’t lie to Dray, and writing a letter saying everything was fine was complete and total bullshit. Besides, Drayton would see right through that. He always did. And there was no way in hell he ever wanted Drayton to actually see him as that stereotypical “bad guy” everyone said would end up in prison one day. He had never wanted to prove someone wrong more in his life.
He took a deep breath, hoping to calm the negative thoughts battling for attention. “Why didn’t you tell me about the car line? That’s a huge thing. That’s a great thing. I would have figured you would have bragged about that endlessly.”
Drayton flinched. “I didn’t want you to think I was rubbing your nose in anything. I mean…you were stuck inside while I was outside—”
“Living. Changing the world. Just like I knew you would. That would have been nice to know,” he finished quietly.
“I couldn’t see you or talk to you, so I didn’t want to risk writing something in a letter that might piss you off or add any more distance between us. I just…” Drayton exhaled heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I never gave up hope. Never.” He slammed his head back against the headrest.
Vann looked out the front windshield, watching the cloud-filled night sky. He glanced at the house when the lights turned on inside and a tall, lean, dark-haired man opened the back door. He smiled and waved, then closed the door behind him as he re-entered the house.
“That’s Matt Doner. He and his partner, Julian Capeletti, own the house.”
Vann nodded, peering up at the window of the second floor as someone stepped away from the blinds. “I should probably go in.” He exited the car, not waiting for a reply.
Drayton quickly followed, exiting the driver’s side and closing the car door. He walked around to Vann’s side. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
<
br /> Vann shook his head as he glanced up again at the cloudy, night sky. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I need to do this on my own.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t overthink things. It just means I want to walk into that house and start this new change on my own. It doesn’t mean I want to do everything on my own from now on. Okay?”
Drayton reached out and pulled him into a desperate embrace. “Cut me some slack. I just got you back after a decade, and I’m not thrilled about losing you again.”
He wrapped his arm around Drayton’s shoulder, screwing his eyes shut as he tightened his hold. He brushed his fingers up Drayton’s neck and into his hair, releasing a shaky breath as the silky strands slipped between his fingers. “I’m scared, Dray,” Vann confessed with a whisper. “A lot’s changed and I’m just…trying to make sense of things and finding out where I fit in all of it.” He parted his lips on an exhale when Drayton’s lips pressed against the scar on his temple, a permanent reminder of the night that still haunted him. He missed this—the closeness, the intimacy, Drayton’s constant need to touch.
“You fit right here, with me. That won’t ever change.”
Vann sighed, still holding Drayton close, not really wanting the intimacy to end.
“We’re seeing each other while you’re here. And we’re talking on the phone. Got it?”
Vann nodded. “I don’t know the rules, but yeah. Didn’t you tell me that once I got settled in, we were going to work through this? I’m holding you to that.”
“Deal,” Drayton said with an almost quiet laugh, releasing him from the embrace.
Vann took a deep breath and closed his eyes, memorizing the melody of Drayton’s soft chuckle. “I know I don’t deserve this, but…” He shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed the tip of his boot into the ground. “I want you, Dray. That’s never changed. I want this. I want us. If…you want that too.”
“I want it all.”
He looked up, silently gasping a breath at the hope sparking in Drayton’s eyes. He wanted to reach out and pull him close again. He wanted to feel those arms again, touch his hair, his skin, kiss those lips. He swallowed heavily and blew out a heavy breath. His body was going from zero-to-sixty in two seconds flat, and he was having a hard time controlling the charge zipping through him. “I need to know you’re mine, fair and square. Not out of pity, obligation, or because we were together for years before shit happened. I know I’ve changed, but I want this. I’ll work my ass off for it. I know it sounds weird, but—”