The Hideaway (Lavender Shores Book 5)

by Rosalind Abel

  “That’s bullshit.” Micah shook his head, looking frustrated. Maybe at me, maybe at the entire situation. “There’s nothing wrong with Moses. Nothing wrong with you and me either.”

  There was a scoff on the other end of the phone. One I didn’t pass on to Micah.

  It was a pointless argument. They weren’t able to understand. I did. Completely. Though still looking at Micah, I addressed Gilbert. “I’m just glad he texted you to let you know he called his folks, that he’s with them. He wasn’t returning any of my… our calls.”

  “I bet that fucker Russell is loving every minute of this.” Gilbert’s growl was near deadly. “If you aren’t going to get Moses, then I will.”

  “No. You’re not.” I sat up straighter, and all apology and guilt left my voice. I might feel like shit about how Gilbert found out, but I wasn’t putting Moses at risk because of it. “You’re going to leave it alone. He’s seventeen. Think about all he’s been through. If we force the issue right now, it will only push him further way. Russell’s a horrible person, but he’s not as bad as my father, and he’s smarter. Now that the law is involved, Moses will be safe, physically at least. If we force him back here, get the law involved, he’ll close off forever.”

  “I seriously don’t know who you are right now.” And the disgust just continued to pour from Gilbert.

  Micah didn’t look completely convinced, but he gave a small nod. “Maybe you’re right.”

  I was right. I might be riddled with guilt and shame, I might be exhausted and spent, but on that point I was clear. I knew how it worked. I knew the power religion had, and I remembered the mind-fuck the Clarks could do with it. “Talk to Walden. I bet he’ll agree. I’m sure he or Lacy have some experience with kids in this situation. Well, maybe not Lacy, actually, since she’s only taught in Lavender Shores.”

  “I don’t give a shit what—”

  “Gilbert, stop. This isn’t up for debate.” I paused, softening my tone. “Think about what you’re feeling with what you saw. Just try to imagine what Moses is thinking.”

  Micah winced and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his hand from my leg and shifted to refocus out the window.

  Gilbert was silent for a while, and when he spoke again, his tone had changed. He sounded sad. “How long?”

  “What?” I shook my head, trying to make sense of his words, but then it clicked. I must have been truly exhausted for his meaning not to be clear. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do this, not right then. I stood, catching Micah’s attention and motioned downstairs. He didn’t need to hear this. I mouthed, “Be right back.”

  He nodded and looked away again. I could read his thoughts. See his defeat.

  Gilbert was already talking by the time I shut the apartment door and headed down the steps. His sadness gave way to anger once more. “I’ve counted you as a brother, even before you moved in with us. You’ve been sleeping with Micah, my little brother! For how long? For the whole time?”

  “No! I swear.” Whenever Micah and I would talk about telling the family, he’d never been worried about Gilbert. He’d said that of all the ones we needed to worry about, Gilbert would have our back. That with Gilbert’s sexual history, he wouldn’t judge. Somehow, though, I’d known better, but I’d let myself be persuaded.

  I’d known that precisely because of Gilbert’s sexual history, and because of his protective nature, finding out about us was never going to go smoothly. But I never dreamed he’d find out the way he had. I couldn’t believe they’d just shown up in my bedroom. Despite myself, a flash of anger coursed through me. “What were you all doing back, anyway? You weren’t supposed to show up until tomorrow.”

  The sneer in his tone was one I’d heard him offer to many other members of the town he’d despised since childhood, but never me. Never, ever me. “That’s what you’re going with? That it’s my fault that we showed up too soon?”

  Fuck. I was really messing up everything. “No. Of course not. But Micah and I were going to tell you all next week. We weren’t going to keep it a secret any longer. You just walked in too soon. If we had known, if you’d called—”

  “We did call. A couple of times. Your phone was off, or at least went straight to voicemail.” He nearly snarled. “Of course, I didn’t know I could’ve tried to call my little brother in the middle of the night to wake you up. I just figured you were asleep and it wouldn’t be a big deal. Guess that shows how much I know, huh?”

  I’d called Moses before I’d started Micah’s tattoo, but I hadn’t checked my phone after that. Not until Moses and Gilbert had disappeared into the night. None of this would’ve happened if Gilbert had stuck to the plan. Brought Moses back the following day. “Why did you come home early?” I wasn’t really sure why I even cared; it wasn’t the point. I just needed some of this to make sense. Some reason why everything was falling apart.

  “Walden’s dad had a heart attack last night. Walden’s already on a plane home. I’ve got a flight in San Francisco for this afternoon to join him.”

  I stopped pacing around Lavender Ink.

  Fuck. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Is he going to be okay?”

  For a second it seemed like Gilbert wasn’t going to answer, and when he spoke, it felt like he wasn’t certain he truly wanted to share the information. “We don’t know. He’s in critical care at the moment. That’s why we’re flying out so fast.”

  “I’m so sorry. If you need us to come down and help… need me….” Shit I was already talking about Micah and me as an us. That for sure wasn’t going to help.

  Gilbert scoffed, all ice and disdain. “No. I think that’s the last thing we need. You and I are not okay, Connor. Obviously. We are so fucking far from okay.”

  God, though I’d worried about it countless times over the years, hearing his words, his disgust, was even worse than I could’ve predicted. I’d been embraced by the entire Bryant family, but it’d all started with Gilbert. He’d been my friend first. He’d been the one who noticed the bruises. The one to actually ask me what was happening, the one to start it all. “Gilbert, I swear nothing happened when Micah was a kid. That was never….” The memory of Micah crawling into my bed when he was sixteen flashed in my mind. Of how he’d awoken me, how he’d aroused me.

  It was like Gilbert could hear the memory flash through my voice. “Can’t even finish that, can you?”

  “Let me go back upstairs and give the phone to Micah. You can ask him yourself. We can go through this together. There won’t be any secrets, not anymore.”

  “Dude, my problem is so not with Micah. I can deal with him later. My problem is with you.” To my surprise, some of his anger faded, leaving sadness in its place once more. “I took you into my family, counted you as a brother. And then find out you’ve pulled this shit.”

  I was losing him. “Just let me explain. Let Micah and I explain.”

  “Fuck off, Connor. Seriously. Fuck off.” He scoffed again. “Maybe Moses had the right idea.”

  Then he was gone.

  I stood there, staring at the screen, feeling like I’d gotten the wind punched out of me.

  Somehow, it was even worse than I’d feared, especially with Moses in the mix.

  God. This was my fault. All of it.

  After a while I put my phone away and glanced at the ceiling, hearing Micah’s pacing footsteps, and then walked over and sat on the chair Micah and I had used just a few short hours before.

  How the world had changed, again.

  Fuck.

  I had no idea how much time passed. As dawn peered through the edge of the blinds, Micah was sitting beside me, his hand on my knee.

  “How long have you been off the phone? You didn’t come back up.”

  I didn’t look at him. “I don’t know.” I started to tell him about Walden’s dad, but I didn’t have the strength.

  “You really think it’s best to just let Moses be with them?”

  I nodded. I wished I didn’t. I needed something t
o fight, something to do. But I could see clearly how that road would go. Just like I’d known what would happen with Gilbert and me.

  Micah sounded amazed. “I can’t imagine willingly going back with those people.”

  “Micah, Moses walked in and saw me in bed with my brother. What would you expect him to think? I lived up to everything he’d ever heard about me.”

  “But we’re not actually brothers. It’s not the same thing.”

  Maybe the Bryants would end up seeing it that way. I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe even Gilbert, though I had my doubts. But Moses wouldn’t see it that way. Since the day I met him, I’d held up my shining example of what a family should be, what it could be. How brothers and sisters treated one another, how fathers and mothers loved their children. I’d been such a fool. Even as I’d spoken about family to Moses, I’d promised myself I’d never touch Micah again.

  I’d known better on that, too.

  I didn’t have it in me to argue with Micah. Besides, it would be the same circular discussion we’d had thousands of times.

  “We’re not brothers, Connor. It’s not wrong.” Micah moved his hand from my knee and gripped mine, clinging nearly desperately. “What we have isn’t wrong. And people will see that.”

  I gaped at him. “Moses feels safer with the Clarks than with me. And I just had Gilbert walk out of my life. What more proof do you need?”

  He flinched, and after a heartbeat, let his hand fall away from mine. Micah stared out at the night with me for several minutes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve listened. I’ve been selfish. I only thought about me all these years. What I want. I never quite realized what you had to lose.”

  That had always been the point. He hadn’t understood. Having never experienced what I had growing up, he couldn’t know what being with him would cost me.

  Micah stood. “I’m sorry.” He walked out of my section and headed around to the front door. He had his grip on the handle when his words finally sank in. What he meant by I’m sorry.

  Fear shot through me. “What are you doing?”

  He looked over at me, shame and heartbreak etched over his face. “What you want. What you’ve asked me to do for years. I’m just sorry I’m too late. I’ll make sure everyone knows it was my fault.” He twisted the handle.

  “Like fuck you will.” I stood, anger finally burning past the fog that had clouded my mind since Gilbert and Moses had walked into the bedroom.

  Micah flinched again.

  “You’re not leaving. You’re not walking away from me now.”

  He looked confused, and sounded that way as well. “You were right. I can’t ask you to lose… your family.”

  I was around the half wall and yanked him away from the door, rougher than I’d intended. “You are my family. You’re not my brother, but you are my family. The kind I’m going to build a life with.”

  “But, now… with….” He looked so crushed, so wounded. “I can’t ask you to give up everything for me.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out more like a sob. “Oh really? That’s what you’ve always asked. Now you change your mind?”

  Micah sputtered but managed to find words. “That’s what I mean. I didn’t truly understand what you’ve been trying to say, or just thought you were wrong. I don’t know. But you weren’t wrong. Maybe I can fix this. Now that I realize that, I can’t ask you—”

  I tightened my grip, ready to shake him if I had to. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, Micah Bryant, but you are not walking away from me now. The damage has already been done, and if there’s anything good about tonight, at least it’s over with. Whatever is going to happen will happen. There’s no closing Pandora’s box.”

  Even as Micah started out the door, even with my hands gripped so tightly on his shoulders, I didn’t believe he’d really walk away. Maybe he thought so, but as fucked-up as the world was, I just couldn’t accept or entertain the possibility that after all this time, after finally falling into sync with each other, that this was how it would end.

  But at the look in his eyes, I started to wonder if I was wrong.

  “Micah, I don’t want you to fix this. I don’t want—” My throat constricted, but I forced through it. I could survive losing Gilbert and the Bryants. All of Lavender Shores, if needed. I could even survive losing Moses. I couldn’t lose Micah. I wouldn’t. “I love you. And unless you’ve changed your mind, nothing has changed for me. Actually, not even then.” I gave a jerk of my chin over to my tattoo station. “You finally have me. Every ounce of me, and no matter what Moses thinks, no matter what happens with Gilbert, no matter what happens to the rest of our family, I’m done for good. I am yours. I’ve always been yours, and we’ve finally crossed that bridge. I won’t go back. Please don’t leave me now. I can face all of it, no matter what comes, as long as I have you.”

  Micah stared at me, unblinking. I could see the change in his eyes, and I breathed a little easier. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I released his shoulders and captured Micah’s face in my hands. “I’m sure. You are the only thing I’m sure about.” I crushed him to me, holding him tight, letting him anchor me to the earth.

  With Micah by my side, I really could face anything. I wouldn’t lose him. Ever again.

  “You are mine, Micah Bryant. You hear me? Mine.”

  “Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around me and nodded into my neck. “I’m yours, Connor. I’m yours.”

  Nineteen

  Micah

  Now the moment had arrived, I was much more terrified than I’d expected. I’d envisioned it countless times over the years.

  The past hours had revealed many things to me. The pinnacle of which was that I’d been a fucking idiot. And Connor had been right all along. There had been reason to worry. There had been reason to keep it secret.

  I’d still suggested we should tell everyone at once. Connor insisted that was the quickest road to disaster I could’ve come up with. And, for once, I listened to him. It seemed there were things about our family he understood that I didn’t. Maybe just about people in general. And that maybe, as wonderful as our family was, at the end of the day, they were just people.

  Mom and Dad sat across the dining room table from us, both nervous, clearly knowing something was about to be dropped in their laps. I couldn’t help but sense a huge loss. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted that fantasy moment, to share with those I loved most about the man I was going to spend my life with and have them rejoice. But the reality was very different. Somewhere, outside the walls, Moses was with his horrid family, Walden was worrying about his father, Gilbert was probably on a plane, but even if he wasn’t, he wasn’t returning my calls. The Kellys and my sisters had no idea this conversation was happening, though they would soon enough.

  Connor cleared his throat, and I glanced at him. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

  Only one thing turned out exactly how I’d hoped. Connor was by my side. And we were telling my family, our family.

  In the moment when all of Connor’s fears had been realized, when the endless warnings he’d given me for years had come to fruition, Connor had chosen me. At the only time in our history where I would’ve walked away from him, and white-knuckled it to make it last, he’d refused to let me go. And he had chosen to face whatever came our way because of that decision.

  That assurance was better than any fantasy. No matter what came next.

  “Is one of you sick?” As she spoke, Mom reached out and took Dad’s hand, as if needing something to hang on to.

  “No, Mom. No one is sick.” That wasn’t true. “Well, you did hear about Walden’s dad, right?”

  Mom nodded. “Yes. Just awful. We spoke to Gilbert as he waited to board his plane in San Francisco. He sounded horrible. Just horrible.”

  If only that had only been about Walden’s dad. “Yeah, it is awful.”

  Silence fell. And I glanced at Connor once more. His gaze w
as fixed on our parents’ hands.

  “What’s going on, boys?” Dad’s voice was firm but not unkind. “Obviously something is up. Whatever it is, just get it over with. Your mother and I can handle it.”

  In my fantasy, I’d even had a speech prepared about Connor and me. But now, I didn’t have any words. I was terrified. I’d always wondered whether Dad would have a problem with it, at least a little, with all his concerns about founding families, but Connor had said he was more worried about Mom. Considering he’d been right about Gilbert when I never would’ve predicted Gilbert’s disgusted reaction, I couldn’t bring myself to say words that would hurt her. That would cause her to see me differently.

  As if reading my thoughts, Connor turned and looked at me, met my gaze. His eyebrow cocked, just slightly. But I knew exactly what he meant. What he was asking. Making sure I truly wanted to do this. That I was willing to pay the price. Making sure that I wanted him.

  That… I did know. It was the only thing I knew.

  I nodded.

  Connor gave the slightest nod of his own and then faced our parents. “Mom, Dad….” He winced. “Patrick, Regina, we have something to tell you, and we’re not really sure how you’ll feel, but we want you to know that we love you.” He winced again. “I want you to know that I love you. That there’s not a minute that goes by that I’m not grateful for you welcoming me into your home, and to your family.”

  At the twin expressions of hurt that crossed Mom’s and Dad’s faces as Connor called them by their first names, I wondered if he’d made a mistake, though I understood why he made the change. I started to jump in, to rescue Connor, to try to make this easier on him, but I couldn’t find the words.

  Connor took a breath. “I’m just going to say it, rip off the Band-Aid. Then I’ll answer anything you want, either of us will.” He looked down at the table and then seemed to force himself to look back up, meeting our parents’ faces. “Micah and I are together. We’re… I love him. We’re in love.”