“I saw what you did. I’m going to kill you.”
Patrick laughed. “Take the kid out for a burger or something. It’ll make his life. Besides, it won’t kill you to go out with someone. Besides babysitting me, that is.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You’ve got enough problems in your own love life, asshole. Leave mine alone.”
Patrick just grinned wider and ate a fry.
After they settled into the Z and Rhys started the car, he glanced at Patrick. “I’m about to be an asshole.”
“You mean more of one?”
Rhys snorted as he pulled out of the parking lot but didn’t respond.
Patrick sighed. “Somehow, I had a feeling you were going to do this. And you’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”
“Nope.”
He looked out the window, staring at nothing. “I went last week.”
“I thought you might have. How did it go?” Rhys looked over at him as they waited for the light.
Patrick didn’t answer at first, debating how much to say. “It… wasn’t easy. I had to nearly beg Sophia to keep it to herself.”
“Did you talk to him?”
Patrick just snorted and refused to justify that one with a response.
Rhys took the on-ramp to the highway, going a little faster than was strictly necessary, then glanced over. “And?”
“And… it sucked. He’s hurting. He’s supposed to be getting over me. Moving on. Finding someone that’s good for him.”
“Where you’re not, is that right?”
Patrick looked over and glared at Rhys. “You know that’s the truth.”
“Bullshit.” Rhys sounded almost cheerful about that.
Patrick glowered harder. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I thought you agreed with me.”
“I didn’t fight about it,” Rhys corrected. “That was not agreement.”
“Lack of argument is implicit agreement.”
“Have you been talking to your brother?” Rhys asked.
“Fuck you. Colin has better arguments than that. In the courtroom and out.” Patrick looked out the window again.
Rhys laughed, then sobered. “Have you talked to anyone in your family?”
Patrick shook his head. “Mama’s still doing the same thing. Alana’s sent me a few texts, and I’ve been keeping her up with what’s going on. I think she’s talking to Quinn and Tutu for me. Colin and Leia… I think they’ve been trying to play intermediaries. The others….” He shrugged a shoulder.
When Rhys didn’t speak, Patrick glanced over. The muscles in Rhys’s jaw were working. “You know I don’t have any family left, right?”
“Yeah, I knew that.”
“My mother was pretty much it, and she’s gone. So… I don’t have a lot of experience with families, okay?”
“Okay.” Patrick raised his eyebrow, curious to know where Rhys was going with this.
“But it seems to me that, aside from a few choice people, your family is full of assholes. And I don’t mean the kind of asshole I call you or myself. But the real ones.”
Patrick scowled. “But—”
“No. No buts. How many of them have stood up for you?”
“I….” Patrick paused to think it through. “Alana and Quinn. Tutu. And, well, Colin and Leia care.”
“But have they stood up for you to your parents?”
“Well, it’s really my mom,” Patrick said.
Rhys shook his head. “I don’t give a shit if it’s one or both. Have they stood up for you?”
Patrick sighed, looking out the window again. “No.”
“Assholes.” Rhys cut over, switching lanes quickly and flying off the interstate.
“That’s my family you’re talking about,” Patrick said quietly.
Rhys looked over at him when they reached the bottom of the ramp. “What kind of family leaves you to deal with a life crisis like this on your own?”
Patrick frowned and didn’t answer. He didn’t like what he came up with.
Rhys let it go and navigated the surface streets of West Hollywood in silence. Patrick had seen the route to Sophia’s so many times, he didn’t even need to pay attention, so he was a little surprised by how quickly they got there. Rhys must have sped.
He tried to go to the same table he’d had the week before, in the dark corner. But Rhys literally pulled him away and led him to another one, farther out in the audience, right in the middle toward the front. Patrick scowled. “I am not sitting here.”
“The fuck you’re not. Sit. I’ll get drinks.”
Patrick shook his head. “Look, it’s enough I’m here. I don’t need to be where he can see me.”
Rhys sighed and rolled his eyes. “You have plenty of experience on stage in front of those lights. You know he can’t see very well out here.”
Patrick scowled. “But he can see. I—”
“Just sit, for fuck’s sake,” Rhys growled and stormed away.
Patrick glared at Rhys’s retreating back, fuming. But when he glanced around, his table had been filled, and the other on the opposite side was also filled. With a sigh he sat.
“Good evening, darlin’.”
“Hi, Sophia.” Patrick stared glumly at the still-empty stage. “Rhys wouldn’t let me sit in the corner.”
“Good. It’s about time you get out here.”
Patrick rolled his eyes and turned to his friend. She wore gold tonight. Her gold satin dress matched the killer heels and jewelry, and she looked as beautiful as ever. Patrick shook his head. “Is everyone determined to make me miserable?”
Sophia chuckled. “No, darlin’. We’re not trying to make you miserable. You’re doing a great job of that without our help.”
Patrick scowled. “I—”
“Oh, please.” She snorted.
“Sophia! What the hell else am I supposed to do?” He knew as soon as the question was out that he’d regret it, knowing what her answer would be.
“Talk to him.”
Patrick sighed and closed his eyes, turning back in his chair. He shook his head. “You know I can’t.”
“He thinks you’re over him.”
Patrick nodded. “Good. He’ll move on.”
“I do believe he’s tied for the most bullheaded man on the face of the planet,” Sophia said.
“With Chance?” Rhys asked, and Patrick opened his eyes to glare at his friend.
“Yup,” Sophia agreed.
Patrick glared at Sophia too. “Can you two not talk about me as if I’m not here?”
Rhys set a bottle of Harp in front of Patrick, then took his seat. Ignoring Patrick, he asked Sophia, “Is Chance being just as stubborn?”
Sophia nodded. “Yes. Won’t listen to a bit of reason.”
“You talk to Chance about me?” Patrick looked over at Sophia.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? I swear, I’ve never met two more stubborn people on the face of the planet.” Rhys shook his head.
“I know it. Doesn’t matter what we say.” Sophia sighed.
“Hello! I’m right here!”
Rhys and Sophia looked at him. “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you there,” Sophia said.
Patrick scowled at her. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m hilarious.” She shook her head. “And maybe now you have an idea of how it’s been feeling to talk to you. Like we’re talking to a fucking brick wall.”
Patrick sighed and slumped in his chair. “Sophia, honestly. Would you want to talk to me after what I’ve said? Done?”
Sophia didn’t answer, and Patrick looked up. She frowned at him. “Look, at this point, it doesn’t matter if he wants to. You need to try.”
Patrick shook his head. “I can’t. I… fuck, I have no idea how to begin to fix something like this. He doesn’t want me anymore, and I don’t blame him.”
“Oh, darlin’, I’m sure he does. He’s just hurt. He just needs to know you want him.”
“But….” Patrick sh
ook his head helplessly and took a drink of his beer. “He’s still better off without me, Sophia. I don’t….” He sighed and gave up.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Are all men this stubborn?”
Sophia snorted. “Not quite, but most are.”
“Well, fuck. Maybe I don’t want to be gay.” He shook his head.
Sophia laughed, and Patrick scowled. “Not like we’ve got a choice, is there?”
Rhys raised his eyebrows. “No, we don’t, do we? So why the fuck haven’t you told your family that?”
“I did.” Patrick frowned.
“And? Did they accept that?”
Patrick didn’t answer. Rhys already knew what it would be.
Chance started singing then, and Patrick turned his attention to the stage, pissed he hadn’t seen Chance tuning. Patrick’s eyes drank in the sight, taking in the fact that Chance’s hair seemed a little healthier, and he seemed like he’d been eating. But his eyes still held the same haunted look.
And the voice held the same pain behind the lyrics of the song.
This time he started with “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and Patrick frowned. “He needs to get the fuck over this shit,” Patrick grumbled.
“Yeah, because that’s so easy to do,” Rhys said with a snort. “I mean, look at you. You’re all sunshine and rainbows, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you, asshole. That’s different.”
“How?” Sophia asked. “How is your pain different than his?”
“I didn’t say it was. But….”
“But what, Patrick? He loves you. He still loves you. He’s been just as bad as you. I’ve had to force him to eat. Marcy drags him to the diner.”
Patrick swallowed, eyes dropping to the table. “I didn’t want that for him. I just… I wanted to stop hurting him.” He swallowed again, trying to keep himself under control. He’d managed three full days without losing it. He wanted—desperately—to make it four. “You can’t tell me that it doesn’t hurt him that I have to hide him.”
“Why hide him, Patrick?” Rhys asked.
Patrick looked up at Rhys. “Why? You know how they reacted!”
“Your family again.”
“Yeah, my family. Family’s important, Rhys. Especially to them.”
“Apparently not important enough,” Rhys countered. “Because if they were, if it mattered, they’d be here for you. They wouldn’t be giving you shit—they’d be celebrating the fact that you found someone you love so much.”
Patrick dropped his face in his hands, vaguely noticing the shift in song. Yet again, Chance played “You’re Beautiful,” and Patrick fought to keep from crying. He was damned determined not to break down in the bar.
“I don’t… I can’t… I don’t know how,” he finally forced out. “I love him. God, I love him. And because I do, I don’t want him to have to go through my shit. It’s not fair to him.”
“And deciding for both of you isn’t either,” Sophia said. Patrick looked up at her, and she shook her head. “Did you give him a chance, Patrick? Did you let him show you how well he’d handle all of this? Did you let him try?”
Patrick stared at her for a long minute as the truth of that sank in. Chance had said something similar to Patrick when he’d broken up with the man. It’d been easy to discount Chance’s argument then because he’d been sure Chance just wasn’t thinking clearly. But to hear it from Sophia…. She couldn’t have made more of an impression if she’d slapped him across the face.
He stood up abruptly as his emotions crashed in on him again and the enormity of just how much he’d fucked up hit him. He looked up, and Chance’s eyes met his. He had no idea how Chance managed to focus on him from behind the lights, but he couldn’t care. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, couldn’t possibly have moved in that moment.
He needed to. He needed to go. He was dead positive everything he was feeling, every hurt, was on his face in that moment. He panted hard, struggling for control, but his lungs, his body, weren’t cooperating.
A billion things backed up in his head in that moment. So many things he wanted to say.
I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much. I need you so badly. Please forgive me….
None of them even began to cover the mess his head was in. Thankfully, none of it came out. His mouth stayed firmly closed, his gaze stayed locked to Chance’s for another long moment, but when Chance stopped singing and playing, Patrick woke up, realizing what he was doing. He swallowed hard several times, but when the pressure in his chest nearly consumed him, he drank Chance in with his eyes one more time.
Then he bolted. Again.
He stopped at the bench outside, sat, and put his head between his knees. He fought for air, fought to keep from losing it. He sucked in air and blew it out. Over and over, focusing only on the simple act of breathing.
At some point, he became aware that Rhys was sitting next to him. “I can’t go back in.”
“Patrick, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
Patrick sat up and looked at his friend. He shook his head. “There’s nothing else to do, Rhys. I have fucked up so royally… there’s no recovering from something like this. I… you heard Sophia.”
Rhys sighed. “Honestly, if you just—”
“Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t tell me to talk to him.” He stood up, shaking his head again. “It’s over. He’s gone. He’s going to get over me, like he should. That’s all there is to it.”
He backed up when Rhys stood. “Wait, just wait.”
Patrick shook his head again. “No. I’ll… I’ll see you. I gotta go.” He spun around and took off, even though he had no real clue which way to go.
He found himself on Santa Monica Boulevard and glanced over his shoulder to see the Z pulling out onto the street. He looked up the boulevard and saw a cab with its light on approaching. Throwing another look back, he stepped out into the street and waved. When the cab slowed, he threw himself in. “Burbank. San Fernando. Please.”
Chance watched Patrick practically run out the door. He couldn’t mistake the mess of emotions on Patrick’s face, no matter how much he wanted to tell himself Patrick was happy without him. He couldn’t keep lying to himself about that.
He belatedly realized he’d stopped singing, stopped playing, and the audience was watching him. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry folks.” He quickly switched songs, starting up the Bon Jovi that got requested a lot and forcing himself to focus on it.
It was only by going on almost autopilot and forcing himself to concentrate on the music that he got through the first set. And even then, it was shorter than he normally did. But after only five more songs, he just couldn’t force it anymore.
He sank into the chair at his table and dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t even look up when the shot of whiskey was put in front of him. He downed it, then picked up the bottle of beer and drank it as well. Finally, he set it down and looked over at Sophia. “You knew he was going to be here.”
Sophia nodded. “You two have got to stop this ridiculousness.” Chance opened his mouth to argue, but Sophia put one hand up. “No, that’s exactly what it is.”
“He broke up with me, Sophia. What’s there to be ridiculous about?”
Sophia sighed. “He really didn’t want to, darlin’.”
“Bullshit.”
Sophia considered him for a moment. “Well, we’re makin’ progress. That’s a little less vehement than it used to be.”
Chance rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.
“Tell me he looked happy.”
Chance frowned. “I can’t say that, no.”
“He’s been miserable. You know how Marcy and I won’t leave you alone?”
Chance snorted. “Unfortunately.”
“Yeah, well, Rhys is doing the same thing for him. It’s the only reason he’s leaving the house.”
“Rhys.” Chance frowned.
“He’s a friend and only a friend. I’ve had a nice long talk with th
at man. Boy, is he a mess.” She shook her head. “But Patrick doesn’t love him, Chance. He loves you. He thought he was doing the right thing for you.”
Chance scowled. “By breaking up with me? That’s the right thing?”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t an idiot about it. He’s trying to protect you. From his family, from himself.”
“I don’t need protection.” Chance shook his head. “And isn’t that for me to decide?”
“Like I said, he’s an idiot. So are you.”
Chance scowled again. “Thanks.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“No.” Chance shook his head, downing more of his beer. “I’m not going to him.”
“He doesn’t know what to do, Chance. That poor boy is so lost.”
“Yeah, well, he’s the one who did it.” Chance stared into nothingness, trying not to think of the look on Patrick’s face. The self-loathing, stunned expression. The misery. The pain.
So much for not thinking about it.
Sophia growled. “I swear, if this wasn’t a wig, I’d pull my fucking hair out over you two.”
Chance looked over at her. “I am—”
“So help me, Chance Dillon, if you say you didn’t do it one more time, I’m going to punch you.”
Chance frowned. “But—”
“But, but, but!” She threw her hands up, glaring at him and shaking her head again. “Tell me, what about that song you were always singing him?”
Chance blinked, surprised by the shift. “What song?” he asked, but he thought he knew which one she was referring to. It was the same one he’d sung to Patrick in Hawai’i. And since then, he’d been singing it every week to the man he loved. Until a few weeks ago, that is.
“You know exactly which song I’m talking about. Don’t give me that shit. Tell me, was that bullshit?”
Chance narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“All those promises in that song? You once told me the whole thing was basically you two. Was that bullshit? All that about not giving up?”
Chance frowned, not liking the direction she was taking. “He—”
“Don’t give me that shit about him giving up first, goddammit!” She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. “And right here, right now, I’m asking you. Was that a lie? That verse, the second one about needing space? Navigating?”
No Sacrifice Page 59