Damage Control
Page 27
“That was… Dad said you were burned in an accident.”
“Dad says a lot of shit. It was not an accident. None of it was an accident.”
Ryan paled. “I… Tyler. Why didn't you ever tell me?”
“Yeah, well, you were off at Stanford at the time. And later…” Tyler shrugged. “Brad knows, and I would've figured he'd have filled you in, since being the family gossip is his calling. He was here after I came home and thank God he was, because he was the one who made sure I went to the hospital. It was Dad who came up with the accident story for the doctors.”
“I'm sure he was doing what he thought was best,” Ryan said, but even he didn't sound like he completely believed his own words.
“Sure, Ryan, if that's what you want to think, but what Dad thought was best referred to him, not to me or Mom. She was pretty pissed at Dad after my first stint in Bridges, and things got worse for both of us at home. I had to account to him for every second of my time, and Dad took all of Mom’s money. Closed her personal account and confiscated her jewelry. After that, even to buy groceries she had to ask him first for the money, and she had to produce a receipt for every purchase. Don't tell me that Dad wasn't a bastard, because he was, and he still is.”
“He's still our dad, Tyler.”
“I don't give a shit. He was a terrible father. He forced you into being his version of a perfect son while pretty much ignoring Brad and me. Then he found out I was gay and it was open season as far as he was concerned. But at least I can see how he fucked me over. He fucked you just as hard and you can't even see it, can you?”
“I don't know what you mean,” Ryan said, but he sounded uncertain. “He never hurt me.”
“Not physically, no.”
“What are you getting at?”
Tyler sighed. Ryan was going to make him spell it out. “Years ago, you were in love with Josh. It probably wouldn't have lasted, but who knows, because you didn’t lose him because you grew apart or fell in love with someone else. You lost him because Dad convinced you that you couldn't have him in the first place, that anything aside from being completely straight was just as unacceptable as bad grades or not being a varsity football player or any future that didn't lead to law school and taking over the firm. You let Dad make every choice for you, you idiot, and you’re still letting him do it.”
Ryan shook his head. “We are not discussing this.”
“Yes, we are. This is about Dad, and how he screwed us over when we were kids and how he's never stopped doing it. Why are you still in the closet? Why are you engaged to a woman you don't love?”
“Stephanie has nothing to do with this.”
“Are you serious, Ryan? You're engaged to a woman and I just caught you having sex with a man.”
“It wasn't…”
“Yes, it was, and if he went to his knees that readily, I sure as shit know it wasn't the first time for you two.”
“Tyler, we're supposed to be talking about the video, not my sex life and your unwanted opinions about it.”
“Then you shouldn't have tried to get in a quickie before we arrived.” Tyler shook his head. “Does Stephanie know what you're doing?”
Ryan only stared at him.
“And Patrick. What is he to you?”
“What is Josh to you, Tyler?”
“My temporary fake boyfriend. I think we've established that.”
“You two seem awfully friendly for a temporary fake relationship,” Ryan said.
“You practically pushed him into my arms. What did you expect would happen? I'm not made of stone.”
Ryan looked mulish. “And what happens when you go back to California?”
“Why do you care? It's not your business. Not anymore. You made that clear fifteen years ago.”
“Likewise, neither Stephanie nor Patrick are any of yours.”
Tyler sat down on the side of Ryan's bed. “You don't have to keep making the same mistakes,” he said. “Make some new ones. If you feel anything for that kid, you need to either keep him or let him go. But if you keep him, that means he's not a secret. You admit what you feel is real and not wrong and go with it. Hell, you wanna fuck both him and Stephanie, I don't care, if they both know what's going on and are okay with it. But stop pretending to be something you're not, and if you can't, then let him go. You hurt Josh. Really hurt him. I don't think you meant to, but you did, and he still has the scars. Don't do the same thing again.”
Ryan stared at him and said nothing for a long time, then he finally spoke. “How hard would it be, do you think, for me to get Josh back? He lives in Evanston, I'm pretty sure Rachel told me that. That's not far. It can't be even ten miles. I don't think it would take much—”
Tyler stood and faced his much-larger brother, his hands fisted unconsciously. “You leave him the fuck alone or I will hurt you, Ryan. The things Rachel will do to you will pale in comparison.”
Ryan laughed, and it was ugly. “That's what I thought. Relax, Tyler. I don't have any designs on Josh. I see you do, though. That's interesting.”
“Fuck you. God, you’re such an asshole.” Tyler sat down on the bed again, rage drained from him and replaced with a sick feeling of dread. He felt far too possessive of a man who did not in any way belong to him.
“You’re awfully high and mighty for someone poised to break a man's heart,” Ryan said, glaring down at him and looking like the spitting image of their father. Tyler had to give himself a little shake to dispel the image.
“Who's to say he won't break mine?” Tyler asked, thinking it was looking to be far more likely.
“I never said it didn't cut both ways,” Ryan said. His expression changed, his face showing what might have been sympathy.
“Right. Right.” Tyler didn't want to think about the future either, so maybe it wasn't fair to give Ryan such a hard time. Only he and Josh had gone in with no illusions. If either of them fell foolishly in love, they had only themselves to blame. It wasn't the same. Still, he began to feel like he'd purchased a brand-new glass house and a rock chucker to go along with it.
“You know,” he said, with a small smile for his big brother, “at least I'm not fucking Harry Potter.”
Ryan snorted. “Patrick doesn't look like Harry Potter.”
“Okay, I'll grant you the glasses are the wrong shape, but he's got messy black hair and pretty green eyes. Nice wand, too.”
“Shut up, Tyler.”
“All right, fine. Do whatever. Just don't come crying to me later.”
“Ditto. What about the video?”
“I still think it was Dad. What do you want to do about it?”
“We can't do anything without proof. I am not confronting anybody with something like this on just your hunch. My hunch is as valid as yours at this point.”
“Then prove it one way or the other,” Tyler said. “Use your boy—since I know you're going to anyway—and see what he can dig up. Don't tell him who he's looking for, if you're worried about it. Maybe we're both wrong.”
“And if it is Dad?”
“Can you recommend a good litigation lawyer?”
Ryan shook his head in exasperation. “You want to sue our father.”
“What if I asked for either an apology or a million dollars? Which would he choose, do you think?”
“This isn't going to end well,” Ryan said.
Tyler folded his arms across his chest. “Then he shouldn't have started it.”
Chapter 21
Josh Avoids Making a Scene
Tuesday, September 20th, 6:16 p.m.
Ryan’s overpriced condo
Chicago, IL
“So,” Josh said.
“So,” Patrick replied, scowling.
“What’s that about?” Josh gestured toward where Ryan and Tyler had disappeared. Josh knew the kid was mad about something, although he wasn't sure what, and Tyler was upset with Ryan, again for unknown reasons. As for Ryan himself, he was… well, Ryan. Josh had never been great
at reading him. Even when they'd been just kids, Ryan had always been a puzzle for him to solve, not always correctly. Today Ryan was irritated with Tyler, but there was something else there, too, and Josh had no clue what it was. Too many years had passed, and what small ability he'd had to read Ryan’s moods had long since evaporated away.
The kid shrugged. “Don't look at me. I'm just the hired help.”
“Me, too, I guess. So. You think the Cubs will make it in the playoffs this year?” Josh gave the kid a tentative smile.
Patrick gave him a disgusted look in return. “Screw the Cubs. What's with you and Ryan?”
“I don't see how that's any of your business.” Josh had no idea why this kid was so hostile, and even less idea why he was asking about him and Ryan. There was no him and Ryan, and even if there had been, who the hell was this kid to demand information about them like he had every right to know?
“Tyler said—implied—that you and Ryan were a couple. Had been one, I mean. Is that true?”
“Again, I fail to see how that's any of your business.” Why would Tyler have shared anything about him with a stranger? A cute stranger, it occurred to him, and one who worked with Ryan. Maybe he wasn't a stranger after all—at least not to Tyler. They were about the same age. It wouldn't be all that surprising that they knew each other, perhaps well. Josh’s stomach filled with acid, and his hand went to his pocket before he remembered that he no longer carried a roll of antacids around with him everywhere.
Patrick’s mouth folded into an angry line. “Stephanie’s bad enough, but at least I have an idea why he's marrying her. But you’re one step too far.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Along with his acid reflux, Josh was starting to get a headache. He rubbed the back of his neck and wished the kid would shut up.
The kid drew himself up. “Me and Ryan. We're together.” Then he wilted. “At least, I thought we were.”
Josh froze, the pain in his stomach and head temporarily superseded by the kid’s revelation. “No,” he said. “That’s not possible. He's straight. He always said so. I thought…” Josh couldn't finish that out loud. He'd thought that he was Ryan’s only exception in his very straight life because he'd been special. Important. Unique. This kid had to be mistaken or delusional. He couldn't be Ryan’s… whatever. Josh was supposed to have been the only whatever in Ryan’s life.
Patrick gave him a puzzled look. “Ryan isn't straight. He's deeply closeted, I'll give you that, but not even close to straight. I mean, he came on to me. The only thing I did to encourage him was exist and not freak out the first time he kissed me.”
Josh’s world began to tilt at a nauseous angle. “No,” he said. “You’re making it up. You have to be.”
The anger seemed to drain out of Patrick. “There’s a mark,” he said. “Birthmark, scar, something—high on Ryan’s hip that looks a little like—”
“A flower,” Josh finished with a sense of inevitability.
“More like a star, I think,” said Patrick.
With that, the elaborate fantasy world in which Josh and Ryan shared a tragic, doomed special love shattered into a million pieces, flinging shrapnel throughout Josh.
For over half of his life Josh had constructed and kept alive a make-believe and utterly false scenario in which the otherwise straight Ryan had one exception, Josh, and the two of them would live together one day in perfect bliss once Ryan admitted to himself he'd been in love with Josh all along. Josh knew it was a stupid fantasy, had always known it deep down. He was by no means the first guy to fall for someone straight and hope to turn him gay out of sheer love and willpower, but it was his stupid dream and he'd clung to it forever. He'd even been making great strides at letting it go recently. Josh thought he'd almost gotten to the point where he was ready to bury his stupid dream for good and replace it with a bit of refreshing reality, one in which he was happy with someone who wasn't Ryan.
But now this. As it turned out, his dream wasn't just stupid. It was the wrong dream. Ryan wasn't straight. He’d never been straight. Of course, he hadn't been. It had all been a lie. Every goddamned thing about his relationship with Ryan had been a lie.
Josh remembered all the times as a teenager that he'd thought, if only I was a girl he'd really love me. What a colossal joke. Then he’d hated himself for wanting the wrong things, only Ryan had wanted them, too, he just hadn't had the guts to admit it out loud. It wasn’t until college, when Josh had started seeing a therapist, that he had begun to accept himself as he was. And when he'd done that, he'd wanted the same for Ryan. They could both come out, and who would care? Only that had been a disaster, and Josh had felt terrible for loving his best friend and destroying their friendship because he’d wanted things Ryan couldn't give him. Now this. Josh was overwhelmed by a feeling of utter betrayal. He wondered how many men there had been over the years, then decided he didn't want to know. One or a hundred, it was all the same.
Instead of Ryan not wanting Josh because he was a man, it turned out that Ryan hadn't wanted Josh because he wasn't the right man. Why couldn't Ryan have just said that fifteen years ago? “It's not me, Josh, it's you.”
Except, no. That hadn't been true. Josh remembered that last afternoon they'd been together vividly. Ryan hadn't ended things because he didn't desire Josh. No. Not by a long shot. It had been because Josh was no longer willing to hide, and Ryan wasn't ready to admit that he wasn't straight. He still wasn’t, based on his current engagement despite this boy who radiated both possessiveness and frustration.
If Josh had never said anything, would he be in this kid’s shoes now, still Ryan’s unacknowledged shadow? The idea had a horrible feeling of rightness to it. He could imagine it in his head: leaving work and heading to this beautiful apartment where he'd never be allowed to spend a whole night. He'd never share his love with anyone in his life, other than Rachel and Brad, who already knew. Other than the time Ryan allowed him, he'd be alone.
It struck Josh with a sickening jolt that he'd spent the last fifteen years essentially as Ryan's secret lover without the benefit of having been his lover. He'd never fallen in love with any of the men he'd dated because he hadn't allowed himself that possibility, and he'd ended up living the very life he'd been trying to avoid. The whole idea made him want to vomit. At the same time, he felt for Patrick, who seemed caught in the same trap.
“How long?” Josh asked him. “Have you two been together, I mean.”
“Since January.”
According to Rachel, Ryan had asked Stephanie to marry him in August. Josh felt a stab of pity for Patrick. “And Tyler knows about you two?”
Patrick gave a bark of unhappy laughter. “He walked in and caught us. Just now.”
“Are you in love with Ryan?” Josh asked. Josh’s stomach roiled with an uneasy mixture of envy, anger, sympathy, and exasperation.
Patrick looked away. “I don't know. I…” He looked down and studied his hands, folded tightly in his lap.
“You are, aren't you?” Josh said, exasperation winning.
“Maybe. Tyler said I should leave, but I can't. I need this job.”
“Tyler's probably right. Does the job require screwing the boss?”
The kid looked startled. “No, of course not. I know if I broke it off Ryan wouldn't fire me. For one thing, I'd sue him for wrongful termination so fast his head would spin.”
Josh snorted. “But you don't want to end it.”
“No. I don't want to end it, and I can't imagine working with Ryan if I did.”
“Yeah,” said Josh. “I hung in for years, hoping he'd acknowledge he had feelings for me, then I finally gave up. What are you going to do?”
The kid shrugged and looked miserable. “I have no idea.”
The intercom buzzed, snapping them out of their moment of painful and awkward almost bonding over loving the wrong man. Patrick got up and went over to answer it.
“George says there's a Tom Harvey here to see Tyler and Ryan. Should
I let him up?”
“Yeah, that's Tyler’s publicist. Have him come up. I'll go get them.”
Josh had no idea which door off the hallway was the right one, so he started knocking until he got an answer at one.
“What?” asked both brothers in unison.
“Tyler, your publicist is here. He's on his way up right now.”
The door was yanked open. “Excellent,” Ryan said, and looked at his watch. “He's right on time.”
“You didn't think to mention Tom was meeting us here?” Tyler asked. He frowned, and the expression was a mirror of Ryan's familiar look of disapproval.
“You need to meet with him to discuss strategy,” Ryan said. “I thought you'd find this convenient.”
“Sure, fine,” said Tyler, and they all walked out to meet the man who would hopefully save Tyler’s career. “Although it would have been nice if I'd been consulted.”
Tom Harvey was younger than Josh would have expected, maybe in his late twenties or as old as thirty, dressed with exquisite casualness in jeans and a perfectly tailored blazer over an argyle sweater. He had mahogany-colored skin with traces of old and faded acne scars on his face, a smooth, freshly shaven bald head, and he wore heavy-framed glasses. He had an infectious smile and a good handshake, and Josh felt he was probably worth every bit of whatever outrageous sum he was being paid. Tom oozed confidence, charm, and the ruthlessness of a shark.
Josh took a different seat when they all settled back in the living room. Ryan and Tyler took up their respective positions on the couch, Patrick made sure he was in the chair next to Ryan, sitting down like they were playing a game of musical chairs with deadly stakes, and Tom took the chair next to Tyler. Josh sat apart, joining in the conversation only when asked a direct question. This was all beyond him, and he let their plans wash over his head while he drifted as if underwater, mostly deaf to his surroundings and partially blind.
In a twisted way, he'd achieved what he’d desired for years—he was sitting in Ryan Chadwick’s living room. How many times had he daydreamed about running into Ryan somewhere and being asked to come home with him for a drink and to catch up on old times? It was such a plausible scenario. All this time they'd lived less than ten miles apart, both of them close to the lake, looking out every day to the same view, although Josh couldn't help but notice that Ryan’s view was much nicer than his. His sister worked for him. Brad was his de facto best friend. Yet for years, despite proximity and the many ways in which their lives overlapped, they'd never run into each other. Not until Ryan had called him up last week to ask him to be his groomsman.