by Andrew Grey
“I’ll tell them,” Roberts said and left the room.
Dante stood, the bedding falling away, and he got dressed, lifting his legs as though they were made of lead. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“You aren’t going to.” Beau got the bag he used when he came to Dante’s from the corner and dressed as quickly as he could.
“What does that mean?”
“That I am going to talk to him. I have some questions that I’d like to try to get some answers to, and you’re the object of his hatred, though I suspect he has just as much guilt as you do. I suspect it was easier for him to turn the guilt into anger at you than to deal with it himself.” Beau pulled on his shirt and then took Dante’s hand. “I want you to wait outside the room. Other than knowing I’m your boyfriend, he doesn’t have any other connection to me.” Beau sat and waited for Dante, who seemed to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. Beau stood again and gently brushed Dante’s hands to the side to take care of the buttons for him. “You were amazing when he burst in here. No fear and a tower of strength.” He finished with the buttons and wiped imaginary lint off Dante’s shoulders.
“I was scared half to death, and I knew I had to keep his attention on me. That way if anything happened, you’d have a better chance of surviving.” He pulled Beau into a tight hug. “All I kept thinking the entire time was that I was going to lose you. I just found you not too long ago….”
“All I wanted was to give help some time to get here.”
Dante nodded. “Why didn’t he just shoot us and get it over with? He was out of his mind on something.”
“Probably. His eyes were huge. But I think while his rage took over with whatever he was using, deep down he’s not a killer, and that’s what held him back. He was obviously angry, but you kept him talking, and mentioning his sister was genius. It reminded him of someone he cared for.” Beau held Dante in return.
Dante touched his cheek. “I love you, Beau. I know this is probably a weird time to say it, but I do. I love you with everything I have, and if I’d had to, I would have given myself for you.”
“I know that.” Beau touched his lips to Dante’s. “I love you too.” He pulled away. “We need to get downstairs, because they aren’t going to wait very long.” Beau wanted answers and he wasn’t sure how to get them, but he had to try. He would have held Dante like this forever if he could. They’d both had a scare, and Beau figured he’d fall apart once they were alone again, but right now he had something to do.
“Let’s go downstairs so you can play Perry Mason.”
Beau sighed and turned away to leave the room. They descended the stairs together, and Beau went into the living room, where the officers were waiting. Harper Bledsoe sat on the sofa, his hands zip-tied.
“Officer Howard,” Beau said, recognizing him as the officer from upstairs. In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t recognized him. Now that he could breathe, he easily did.
“This is very unusual, and we have advised him of his rights. So he may not talk to you at all.” Officer Howard turned to Harper and then back to Beau.
“I don’t want to ask him about tonight.” Beau slowly stepped into the room and lowered himself into a chair across the way. He kept a good distance but wasn’t going to be intimidated. “Upstairs, you said that we were all the same. That people at the Center didn’t help your sister.”
“You’re all the same. You don’t care.” Harper pursed his lips.
“I’ve only been here six months and I never knew Allison, but everyone tells me how wonderful she was. So I have to wonder, what did she need help with?” Beau leaned forward.
Harper shook his head.
“I would have helped her if she had come to me.” His gaze on Harper, Beau’s eyes softened and then hardened once more, biting his lower lip. “I promise you, I have never turned anyone away. What sort of help did your sister need?”
Harper didn’t say anything, and Beau began to feel that he was on a fool’s errand. Whatever had happened and was the source of this anger, frustration, and guilt would stay locked away forever. Between Dante and Harper, those secrets were going to drive him to distraction.
“I only wanted to help.” Beau stood and went to leave the room.
“Allison had surgery about four years before she died. She’d always had back problems. But they got worse, so she had surgery.”
Beau slowly turned around at Harper’s words. “Was it a success?”
“Yes. They corrected the vertebrae that were misaligned and pinching the nerve. But she was in a lot of pain.”
Beau nodded but didn’t move any closer. He didn’t want to do anything to stop Harper from talking.
“They gave her pain medication, and after months, she was still in pain and taking the pills.”
Beau nodded gently. “Did she become dependent?”
“Yes.” Harper hung his head. “I tried to help her but didn’t know what to do. She swore me to secrecy. I tried, I really did. I remember staying up with her on more than one occasion so she could try not to take the pills. I did try to help.”
“I’m sure you did. But that kind of addiction takes a lot of help and is very hard to beat. I want you to know that.” Beau swallowed hard, knowing Dante was listening even if he wasn’t in the room.
“She didn’t want anyone to know. Our parents wouldn’t have been understanding. I know our mother would have taken the addiction as a personality failure of some sort. So we kept it to ourselves.”
Beau understood. Addicts often were desperate to keep their addiction a secret from everyone in their lives. “Allison also had depression and—”
“Yes. She drank as well. I know that. I kept hoping she didn’t take the pain pills with alcohol.” The lines on Harper’s face grew more pronounced. “I sent her to the Community Center because you keep things confidential. That’s what I saw on your website. She went a few times and then said they weren’t helping her.” Tears ran down his face. The aggression and adrenaline from earlier were gone, having drained away, and now Harper was the picture of regret and loss.
“Was that before she married Dante?”
“No. It was after. She didn’t want him to know either, but how could he not? They were married. They lived together. How could he not know that his wife was addicted to painkillers?”
“Did your parents ever find out?” Beau asked, and Harper shook his head. “Allison was obviously very good at keeping her secret.” Beau almost stepped forward. He wanted to help. It was in his makeup to try to help people like Harper. “Dante knew Allison suffered from depression and he got her help. She was seeing a doctor for it.” He wasn’t going to go into anything more. “Thank you, Harper.” Beau turned to Officer Howard. “I know what he did and that you need to follow the law, but please make sure he gets the help he needs. There have been too many lives ripped apart by what happened, and that needs to stop here.”
“I’ll do my best,” Officer Howard promised.
“Thank you,” Beau said quietly, watching as they got Harper to his feet and escorted him out of the room.
“We are going to need to talk to the two of you.”
Beau nodded and left the room to join Dante, then led his shocked, wide-eyed lover away from the activity. Dante and Harper didn’t need to see each other again.
“How did you know?” Dante asked. “You obviously led him to that admission.”
They stepped into Dante’s office, and Beau closed the door. “I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know for sure.” He swallowed hard and wanted to go to Dante, but he could feel him closing himself off. Dante sat in one of the chairs, looking at the floor.
“I didn’t know. I thought she just suffered from depression, and I tried to get her help.” He raised his gaze as Beau sat in the chair next to him, taking his hand. “But what I want to know is how you seemed to have it figured out and I never saw it. You didn’t even know her.”
Beau sighed. “When I first met you, I sa
w something familiar in you. Because I work with the families of substance abuse, I saw a lot of what I see in them in you. It’s part of what told me that there was more to you than just your reputation. I could see the real man under the façade and pain.” He felt his cheeks heat but pushed onward. “Anyway, after you told me about Allison, I went into her room.”
A knock on the door interrupted him, and Beau groaned. He had been hoping to get all of this out into the open.
“Yes?”
Roberts poked his head inside. “The police are waiting for you.”
Beau nodded and stood. “I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re done.”
They left the room, Beau holding Dante’s hand, and joined the police in the living room. With Harper gone, they answered all of the officers’ questions as best as they could. There were some they could only speculate on, but they gave the police as much as they knew.
By the time they were done and the police had left the house, they were exhausted. Beau had trouble keeping his eyes open and sat on the sofa, holding Dante’s arm, leaning on his shoulder.
“I almost lost you,” Dante said in an ominous whisper. “I never want to go through that again.”
“Me neither. No more lunatics through the front door.” Beau blinked and closed his eyes once again. Part of him was afraid to sleep for fear of being attacked again, though the rest of him was too exhausted to stay awake.
“How did you know about Allison? I know it’s late, but….”
Beau forced his eyes open and slowly got to his feet, figuring he could show him. “Come with me.” He led Dante up the stairs, then past Dante’s bedroom to the one next door. He opened the door and they stepped into the dusty, disused room that had been Allison’s. Beau went to the bathroom and pulled open the medicine cabinet. He handed Dante one of the bottles inside. “OxyContin. Look at the pharmacy and the doctor.” Beau left the bathroom and went to the bedside table, where he pulled open the drawer. He took out another bottle and brought it to Dante. “There’s more, from a different pharmacy and doctor. They were filled three days apart.” Beau waited for the realization to kick in for Dante.
“My God. How did I not know?” Dante held the bottles.
Beau understood. “Addicts are often very good at keeping their secrets, and she was probably convinced that she needed the medication. I’m willing to bet that there were other doctors and pharmacies. These are the only ones I found.” Beau took the pill bottles from Dante.
“Allison was an addict?” Dante asked in what Beau thought might have been a sort of daze.
“Yes.” Beau set the bottles aside and took Dante’s hands. “I need you to understand that there were a lot of things going on with her and Allison took her own life. I know you’ve felt guilty for a long time, but you have nothing to be guilty about. Allison had depression, and my guess is that she self-medicated with alcohol and pain pills. It’s surprisingly common.” He tugged Dante closer, engulfing him in the tightest hug he could.
“What does this all mean?” Dante asked.
Beau released him and guided Dante out of Allison’s room, then closed the door. “First thing, it means that you have Roberts open that room and clean it out. Second, you stop feeling guilty about everything that happened. You didn’t kill Allison, and regardless of what you thought all those years, you weren’t responsible for her death. She was and no one else.”
He got Dante into his bedroom and tugged off his clothes. It was the middle of the night and finally the house was quiet once again. Beau climbed into bed next to Dante, tugging him close and doing his best to try to soothe him. God, he hoped they could sleep, but he wasn’t counting on it. He hadn’t expected things with Dante to be quite this exciting. Hopefully the danger was over and the two of them could settle down a little.
BEAU WOKE the following morning to quiet, thank God. No phones waking him and no one bursting into their room brandishing a gun. Dante was awake, sitting up in the bed, covers pooled around his narrow waist. “What’s going on?” Beau rubbed his eyes. “How long have you been awake?”
“Hours.” Dante lay back against the headboard. “It’s hard for me to believe that I blamed myself for everything for all this time and….”
Beau rolled over. “Did it ever occur to you that you kept secrets and took a lot of this on because you didn’t want to hurt Allison’s family? You did your best to preserve her memory for the people who loved her. That says a lot about the kind of man you are.” He shifted closer. “But it’s time you rejoined the rest of the world and stopped beating yourself up over something you didn’t do. You weren’t the cause of Allison’s death. You tried to help her. If she had told you everything, you might have been able to get her the help she needed.” Beau gently reached for Dante’s cheek. He loved the scratchiness of his beard in the morning.
“Of course I would have.” Dante leaned forward, pulling his knees up close. “She was my best friend, and I didn’t know she was an addict. I had no idea.” He leaned his head forward and grew quiet. Beau waited, and after a minute, Dante loosened up. Tears streaked his cheeks, and Dante pulled Beau to him, finally letting go of the years of pent-up emotion. Beau would never tell anyone that Dante cried on his shoulder. That was between the two of them, the ultimate show of trust. Beau held Dante’s head, allowing him to let it out.
“I love you,” Beau whispered, and Dante raised his face, his eyes puffy, his lips searching for Beau’s.
“I love you too, and I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Dante’s words came out hoarse. “This place is huge, and I… I want you here with me. I know it might seem like it’s too soon, but…. You already spend your time here, and when you don’t, I look forward to when you do….”
Beau held Dante as tightly as he could, pressing him back on the bedding, excitement coursing through him. “Of course.” He missed Dante just as much when they were apart. “But just so we’re clear, I don’t want my own room.” He smiled and ran his hands over the drying tracks on Dante’s cheeks.
Dante smiled, a warmer and more genuine smile than Beau had ever seen from him before. “The Beast is dead,” Dante whispered softly, almost to himself, and it touched Beau’s heart to hear it. He’d known all along that Dante wasn’t a beast and that the one person, more than anyone else, who needed to realize it was Dante himself.
“Well.” Beau met Dante’s gaze. “Maybe the Beast could stick around, but confine himself to the bedroom?” He wagged his eyebrows, and Dante laughed, unselfconsciously, before rolling Beau on the blankets and pressing him into the mattress.
“I think I can do that,” Dante growled, and Beau let go, putting himself in the hands of the once Beast of St. Giles and knowing there was no one else he’d rather be with.
And he wouldn’t change a thing.
Epilogue
The following January
“I DIDN’T really need a new tuxedo,” Beau said as he struggled to fix his bow tie.
Dante stepped up behind him, and Beau’s pants tightened just from his proximity. “Yes, you did. The one you had was at the end of its life.” Dante reached around and efficiently tied the tie. “There you are. You’ll be a wonderfully perfect host for tonight.” Dante leaned closer to kiss his cheek.
“I wish I didn’t have to.”
“I know. But think about how perfect the new center is going to be.” Dante turned him so he could look at him. “You’ve done an incredible job getting the new center designed and the city to use the insurance money to build it.”
Beau scoffed lightly. “You put pressure on the mayor and didn’t let him back out.” Sometimes the Beast came out when needed.
“I still don’t like that slimy bastard, but he did give the Center a long-term commitment on the space, so I’m letting the good people of St. Giles decide about him in the next election.” Dante turned to the bed to pick up both black coats and hand Beau his. “Now we’re raising money so the Center can be outfitted the way you want.�
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The ruins of the old Community Center had been torn down, and Beau had worked with the town to approve plans for the new structure. The shell of the building had been erected just in time for winter, and now interior work was well underway.
“I’m still hoping to bring in a psychiatrist so we can offer full medical facilities.” Beau shrugged on his coat.
“Don’t you worry. If you find someone, we’ll work out an arrangement with the Foundation.” Dante had already told him that so many times, but Beau wanted the Center to be self-sufficient. “And I know what you’re thinking.”
“You do, huh?” Beau grinned. “Fine. I’ll accept your help as long as it’s temporary.” He melded his body to Dante’s. “I never could say no to you, and you know it.”
“Darn right.” Dante grinned, his smile radiant. “Now, let’s go downstairs and make sure everything is ready for company.”
The tickets to the benefit had sold out in record time once Beau had announced it was being held at Bartholomew Manor. Beau hated the name and thought it belonged in the Batman movies. Still, everyone had wanted tickets. Dante had taken some convincing, but Beau had sold it on the fact that Dante needed to be seen, and opening his home, their home, for the benefit would help dispel more of the rumors.
“I really think we’d have been better off to have held this at a larger location.”
“After this benefit, everyone will be talking about what a good host you are and how welcoming you were to everyone. They will not be talking about the Beast.” Beau had made it his mission to dispel those rumors. They were firmly entrenched, but he and Dante were doing their best to give the people of St. Giles something else to talk about. Like the fact that they loved to walk through town, holding hands. Beau had figured if they were talking about how much they cared for each other, few people would have time for stories of the Beast. And it seemed to be working.