Heavens Aground (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 2)

by G. R. Lyons

  “Ryley…” Vic sobbed, clawing at him as he tried to get closer.

  Ryley wrapped himself around Vic and held him as he cried. “I'm so sorry,” Ryley murmured. “Oh, gods, babe, I'm so sorry.”

  Asher stood there, watching them, unable to move, fidgeting as he clutched a dishtowel in his hands. He couldn't even bring himself to put it down.

  Sure, Asher himself had cried plenty of times over the years—tears of fear, of frustration, of pain—but he'd never actually seen a grown man cry. His father didn't hold with such things. Hells, the man had even chewed out Asher for crying at his accident. There Asher had been, lying on the pavement, broken and bleeding, waiting on an ambulance to show up, and his father had just stood over him, telling him to man up and stop crying.

  But this? Vic looked like his entire world had just shattered into a million pieces and would never be put back together again.

  It felt like an hour of just standing there, awkward and useless, before he saw them move. Ryley managed to get Vic to his feet and kept an arm around him, leading the man off to his bedroom. Ryley glanced over his shoulder at Asher, signaling at him to wait.

  The two men got to Vic's room, and Ryley blindly pushed the door shut behind him, but it didn't latch, so it swung right back open again. Asher watched as Vic stood there, completely numb, seemingly lost to the world, while Ryley got Vic stripped down to his underwear and then tucked into bed. Ryley started to leave, but then Vic said something Asher couldn't hear, and Ryley climbed up on the bed beside Vic, holding the man as he gave way to tears again.

  Asher took a step, hesitated, then walked off to Ryley's room and closed the door. He sank down on the edge of the bed, completely at a loss for what to do.

  And wondering if he'd already lost Ryley before they'd even really gotten started.

  Chapter 13

  RYLEY CURLED up around Vic—not an easy feat when Vic was almost a whole foot taller than him—and held the man while he cried.

  Vic never cried. Never. He hadn't shed a tear when his grandmother passed away two years ago, and they'd been super close. Didn't even seem choked up when he called things off with Ryley. Hells, the man had barely flinched when he'd broken his arm in the middle of a rescue mission—hiking through the woods to find a missing woman and camping out along the way—and had to wait almost two whole days before he could get to a hospital. Ryley had broken his own arm as a teenager. He knew Vic had to have been in extreme pain, but the man bore it like it was nothing.

  But Cam? Cam was different. If anything in the world could reduce Victor Lucius to tears, Cam was it.

  “I failed him, Ry,” Vic choked out between sobs. “I failed him again.”

  “Shhh,” Ryley soothed, rubbing his arm. “It wasn't your fault, babe.”

  Vic nodded. “I should have been there. I shouldn't have left.”

  Ryley grimaced, but didn't say anything. If Vic hadn't come on this trip, they never would have found Asher, and Ryley knew Vic would never really regret that. It was just the pain talking.

  “He waited,” Vic spat, then sniffed and sobbed again before he went on: “He waited until I was gone. He straight up told me he heard I hadn't been to see Cam every week like usual, and dug around until he found out I was out of town, and went straight down there and–” Vic broke off. “Oh gods.”

  “I'm so sorry, Vic,” Ryley murmured. “Gods, I'm so sorry.”

  “We were so close,” Vic blurted out. “The doctors were so sure– Just a few more months, and–”

  Vic broke off again and didn't say another word, so Ryley just held the man as he cried himself to sleep.

  Ryley drifted off without meaning to, and when he woke in the dark, he groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out why his surroundings didn't feel quite right. He waited for his eyes to adjust, and found Vic curled up against him.

  Shit. Ash. Ryley carefully pulled himself free and crept out of the room, closing the door behind him. He went to his own room, and found Asher curled up in Ryley's bed, fast asleep, clutching the second pillow.

  Ryley checked the time. It was nearly dawn. They'd all have to be up in an hour anyway. No point in going back to bed, especially if he was going to have to take charge. He had no idea what state of mind Vic would be in once he woke, but he couldn't count on Vic being fully functional. Taking one last look at Asher, resisting the temptation to crawl into bed with the man and sleep the day away, Ryley stepped back out of the room and went to the dining table. He got Vic's laptop and files packed away, then got started on breakfast.

  He'd just finished eating when Asher came out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. Asher stopped in the middle of the living area and gave Ryley a cautious look.

  “Morning,” Ryley whispered.

  “Morning,” Asher replied, then just stood there in silence.

  Ryley pointed at the kitchen. “There's breakfast on the counter. I'm gonna go take a shower and start packing.”

  Asher got a puzzled look on his face that quickly gave way to something equally eager and anxious.

  “Hey.” Ryley grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “We're going home, Ash.” Ryley smiled. “Don't worry, we'll be right there with you.”

  Asher nodded slowly, and Ryley pushed him toward the kitchen so Ryley could get on with preparing to leave. He'd forgotten to shower the night before, so he rushed through that and got dressed, then got his and Asher's clothes packed, piling his luggage by the front door next to Vic's briefcase, then went to Vic's room.

  Poor Vic was still asleep, and looked slightly dazed when Ryley woke him.

  “Hey,” Ryley whispered, trying on a smile. “Wake up, babe. It's time to get going.”

  Vic groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

  “You hungry at all?” Ryley asked.

  Vic shook his head.

  “Alright. Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll get your stuff packed?”

  Vic frowned at him.

  “We're leaving today, remember?”

  “Oh.” Vic blinked a few times, then glanced at the bedroom door before realization seemed to dawn on him. “Oh. Gotta get Asher home.”

  “That's right. Come on.”

  Vic hesitated a long while, seeming to brace himself for the effort, but he did finally get up and shuffle off to the shower without Ryley's help. He was in there so long that Ryley was able to get all of Vic's clothes packed, and when he finally came out, looking completely numb as he rubbed a towel over his hair, he didn't make so much as a hint of complaint when he saw what Ryley had left out for him to wear. He barely even glanced at the clothes before he mechanically put them on. That in itself told Ryley that Vic was in absolutely no state of mind to function.

  This day was supposed to be about taking care of Asher, easing the tension of getting him onto a crowded cruise ship, celebrating the fact that the man was finally going home, but Ryley could hardly ignore Vic in his condition. The man had just had his entire world pulled out from under him, and Ryley was one of the few people who really understood just what that meant.

  Asher was quiet when Ryley finally got Vic steered out of the bedroom. He stood at the door, next to Ryley's luggage, fidgeting with something in his hands.

  “Here,” Asher said, thrusting the thing toward Vic, but Vic was too numb to notice, so Ryley took it instead. “I don't think it's broken.”

  Ryley glanced down. It was Vic's phone, the lock screen showing missed calls, texts, and emails—none of which Vic would even be able to think about—but not a single crack or scratch. Ryley tucked the phone into Vic's briefcase, then gave Asher's hand a squeeze.

  “Thanks, babe.”

  Asher smiled shyly, masking a look of disappointment that flashed across his face. Ryley wanted to kiss the man instead of just touching his hand, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do that in front of Vic. Of course, Vic had to know what had been going on between Ryley and Asher in the bedroom each night, but they had yet to do anything demonstrat
ive in front of him beyond sitting close to one another and giving little touches here and there. They hadn't even kissed in front of Vic.

  And Ryley meant to keep it that way. Especially now. Vic was fragile enough as it was without throwing in a reminder of how promiscuous Ryley could be.

  A pang of guilt shot through Ryley's gut. How the hells could he have ever cheated on Vic? Ryley knew what Vic's hard limits were in the bedroom, and he knew why they existed, yet he hadn't been able to honor them. Looking at Vic now, seeing a revival of the pain that had set those limits in the first place, Ryley wished he could take back every act of infidelity he'd ever committed.

  But it was far too late for that now. Not to mention, hardly the time to be thinking about it. He needed to get them to the docks so they could finally make their way home.

  Ryley got them checked out of the suite, called a cab, loaded the three of them and their luggage into it, and checked them all in at the docks. The Freedom wasn't quite as large a ship as Libertas II, and it was running a direct route back to Agoran rather than taking a slow pleasure cruise, so they'd be home in just a few days rather than being onboard for a full week, which would be good for both Vic and Asher. Ryley needed to get his men home and settled as soon as possible.

  They found their room, stowed their luggage, then Ryley took Asher back up on deck when Vic expressed a desire to have some time alone.

  “You sure you're up for this?” Ryley asked, brushing a hand along Asher's arm as they headed away from the room.

  Asher shrugged. “Might as well practice being around people.”

  Ryley smiled at him. “In that case, I'm proud of you, babe. Come on.” He took Asher's hand and pulled him up the stairs, then across the main deck until they stood at the railing, watching Erostil slowly fade into the distance.

  He heard Asher take a deep breath and blow it out heavily.

  “You alright, babe?”

  Asher nodded. “It's just weird. Leaving there. Going back.” He chewed his lip. “Gods, I don't know if I'm ready.”

  “Hey.” Ryley took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You won't be alone, alright? We're gonna get you to your uncle, so you'll have a familiar face. And even though Vic and I are gonna have to go back to work, we'll still see you. As much as you want.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Of course. Hells, you can come stay with me sometimes, if you want.” Ryley paused and leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Or I could sneak into your uncle's place and crawl into bed with you. I'm good at picking locks and bypassing security systems.” He flashed Asher a grin.

  Asher laughed and shook his head. “I don't want you to get in trouble.”

  “Babe, I was joking,” Ryley said. “Well, sort of. I wouldn't actually break in, but…” He leaned back to look up at Asher's face. “I would like to see you.”

  Asher got a hopeful look in his eyes. “I'd like to see you, too.” He paused, chewing his lip again, then said, “Honestly, I was starting to worry that maybe–”

  Ryley stiffened, and Asher cut off.

  “What's wrong?” Asher asked.

  Ryley slowly shook his head, a shiver running through his body as the foreign feeling invaded him. “I don't know,” he said, frowning. “It's like…I can feel someone near me.”

  Asher's frown matched his. “I'm near you.”

  “No…Yeah, I know…I mean…It's not that. It's…different. Sort of like…someone's watching me.” Ryley turned, and his eyes went directly to a man standing several feet away, their eyes instantly connecting.

  Another shiver ran through Ryley as Asher said, “I think you're right.”

  ASHER FROWNED, studying the man who was looking at them. The guy was completely bald, marking him as a pure-blooded Erosti, but unlike his fellow countrymen, the guy was actually wearing clothes. The really unnerving part, though, was the look on his face.

  Like he'd been standing there, waiting for Ryley to turn around and notice him.

  What the hells?

  The bald man cocked his head to one side, a look of confusion flitting across his face, then he strode toward them and gave Asher a brief nod before turning all his focus on Ryley instead.

  “Hail and well met, brother,” the man greeted.

  Ryley leaned back. “Dude, I'm not your brother.”

  The man smiled. “We are both Children of Kalos. That makes us brothers in spirit.”

  “Children of what now?” Ryley asked.

  The bald man's eyebrows went up. “Children of Kalos,” he repeated. When Ryley shook his head, the man suggested, in a tone that meant it should be obvious, “A mage?”

  Ryley jerked back. “I'm not a mage.”

  The man's eyes got wider. “Are you sure about that? Because I can read it on you loud and clear. I could sense your presence.”

  Asher felt Ryley shiver beside him.

  “I'm not a mage,” Ryley insisted, and he stormed off without another word.

  Asher watched him go, opening his mouth to call after him, but he didn't want to call attention to himself, not when he was surrounded by strangers. Not to mention, the curiosity was killing him.

  “Did you mean that?” Asher asked the man. “Ryley's a mage?”

  The man nodded. “All magi can sense one another to varying degrees. I could read the gift on him as easily as if it were tattooed on his face.” The guy paused and shook his head. “Forgive me. Fynn T'ardach. Former member of the Erosti Leisure Guild and novice member of the magi of Jadu'n.” He shrugged. “I've never been fully trained, but the gift is still there.”

  Asher slowly shook the man's offered hand. “Um, Asher Arden.” He paused, then added, “Just that.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Fynn glanced over his shoulder in the direction Ryley had gone, then looked back up at Asher. “He really doesn't know?”

  “He never said a word to me,” Asher said, shaking his head. “Then again, I've only known him a few days.”

  “Odd,” Fynn said. “It's usually a point of pride. A normal part of introducing oneself. But if he really doesn't know…” Fynn paused, shaking his head. “How could he not know?” he asked, seemingly to himself.

  The crowd on deck shifted, and Asher spotted Ryley on the far side, his elbows planted on the railing and his head in his hands.

  “Um, sorry,” Asher said, inching away from Fynn. “Excuse me.”

  He darted off, heading straight for Ryley. Asher slowed when he was a few feet away, then crept forward until he was right at Ryley's side, reaching out to grasp the railing and waiting for Ryley to notice him.

  Ryley tilted his head slightly, glancing in Asher's direction, and sighed. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off and left you like that.”

  Asher chewed his lip. “Are you really a mage?”

  Ryley jerked upright. “No, I'm not a fucking mage!” he growled. “Gods, first Vic, and now this guy. What the hells, Ash? Why won't these people leave me alone? I can't be a mage. It just doesn't make any sense–”

  Asher winced as a twinge of pain shot through his hip right before Ryley broke off his rant. Ryley covered his face and slowly inhaled, holding the breath for a moment before he slowly let it back out again. The pain in Asher's hip stopped, leaving just a dull ache.

  Ryley opened his eyes and looked up at him. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off on you. This whole thing is just so frustrating.”

  Asher had so many questions, but he didn't want to bother the man if Ryley didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he dredged up a smile and touched Ryley's hand. “It's alright.”

  He didn't bring up the incident again, but he did spot Fynn a few more times over the next couple days, eyeing Ryley with curiosity. The man never approached them, though. He kept his distance, and Ryley either didn't notice or was choosing to ignore the man's presence. Asher did catch Ryley stopping every once in a while to close his eyes and slowly breathe, though. None of it made any sense, but with each passing hour, Asher found himself l
ess able to think about it.

  They were getting closer to Agoran. Closer to Asher reuniting with his uncle. Closer to the city where he'd once lived, and where his father presumably still did. And when the harbor at Morbran City finally came into view, Asher clung to the deck railing, chewing his lip while his heart started racing.

  He was finally home.

  * * *

  RYLEY WATCHED Asher disappear into the crowd. Gregor Arden had met them at the harbor, and the reunion between uncle and nephew had been a beautifully tearful one on both sides. Ryley couldn't help beaming at the sight. Even Vic managed to come out of his funk long enough to greet Mr. Arden and make plans to finalize their case—they'd have to set up a transition plan for Asher on top of getting him to doctors to make sure he didn't have any immediate medical needs—but as soon as the Ardens were out of sight, Vic deflated again.

  “Come on,” Ryley said, hailing a taxi. “Let's get you home.”

  Vic frowned. “Home?”

  “You can stay with me.”

  Vic opened his mouth as though about to argue, then shut it again without saying anything. The man didn't have his own apartment yet, and though most of his stuff was still at Zac's place, Vic was in no state to be a proper house guest for Zac and Adrian. At least Ryley had some familiarity with the whole Cam situation, so he could watch over Vic for a few days until the man was able to get back to the land of the living.

  They got to Ryley's house, and he set Vic up in the spare bedroom. Vic shut the door, wanting some time alone, so Ryley headed to his own room to unpack and get ready to go back to work the next day. Ryley started some laundry, then checked his mail. He had a few bills that had gone past-due while they'd been out of town. Ryley tossed the envelopes down onto his messy dining table with a shrug. He could deal with those later.

  Ryley finished his laundry—for the most part, anyway, not bothering to go to the effort of pulling the clean clothes out of the basket to put them away—then sat down to dinner, alone. Vic hadn't made a sound all afternoon. Hadn't come out of the room. Once Ryley was showered and ready for bed, he knocked on Vic's door.