by Jen Davis
“Matt? Is that you, doll?” Even if anyone else in the world had ever called him doll, he’d still recognize Sara’s throaty voice anywhere.
“It’s me. What’s going on?”
“I need you to get down to the Q-Center ASAP. Please. Hurry.” She disconnected before he could ask any more questions.
For a minute, he thought maybe Robby had put her up to the call, but he dismissed the idea as quickly as he had it. Sara didn’t strike him as the type to play games, and the last time he’d seen Robby, the guy seemed more than happy to be done with him.
He swiped the keys off the coffee table and speed-walked to the car. When he’d had questions and needed someone to talk to about his feelings, Sara had been there for him. Busy or not, he wouldn’t let her down when she needed him.
Riding the accelerator hard, he made the normally fifteen-minute ride to the center in ten, even in the dusky tail-end of rush-hour. He did a quick scan for Robby’s car when he pulled up to the curb, then breathed a sigh of relief because it wasn’t there.
Sara waited for him inside, seated with her elbows on the big wooden table and her scarf-covered head cradled in her hands. A cast covered her right forearm. She jumped to her feet at his approach.
“Hey. Where’s the fire, hon?”
She reached out and grabbed his hand. “You need to find Robby.”
He pulled out of her grasp. “Did he ask you to call me? Things between us are over.” He didn’t ask about her black eye, though he suspected she was the friend Robby had visited in the hospital.
“What?” The confusion on her face looked too authentic. “When? Why?”
“Because I can’t keep him and keep my son.”
She frowned. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Robby Jordan is one of the best men I know. He’s been through hell and back, and he’s still more worried about looking out for other people than himself.”
“It doesn’t change the things he’s done—or that my ex can’t see past it.”
“So…what? You don’t love him enough to fight for him?” a soft male voice answered before Sara could.
Matt almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of the boy he’d seen Saturday with Robby. “You.” The kid looked so different, now wearing a pair of Levi’s and a Star Wars T-shirt.
“Yeah. Me. Robby got me out of a nightmare situation and brought me here. He’s been helping me get my head on straight ever since.” His glare could strip the paint from the walls. “And if you won’t fight for a future with a guy like him, you never deserved him to begin with.”
He fought to keep calm. “It’s not so simple—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The kid advanced on him like a bull in a China shop, but Sara gripped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“Enough, Brady.”
Matt rubbed at the back of his neck and tried again. “We’re talking about my son. I can’t give him up.”
“No one is telling you to. But if you love Robby, fight for him. Fight for your kid too.”
“It’s more than just the club.” Matt shook his head. How could he explain? “You don’t know the things he’s done. The things Jimmy’s mom heard about him.”
Sara released Brady, her lips pursed. “You would let her judge him for what happened to him when he was Brady’s age? You say he did things as if he had a choice. You think a teenage boy can give consent when his next meal depends on the man who keeps him off the streets?”
Sara didn’t give him time to think it through. “Those men abused him in the worst possible way, and he took it because he had to. I don’t even know how he got out because he sure as hell didn’t have any help.”
Robby’s words barreled into his brain with a vengeance.
“I prayed to God to strike him dead and when He didn’t, I did it myself.”
His stomach turned over. Suddenly, the words stopped feeling like a lie.
Robby had killed someone.
Holy fuck.
The air in the room felt thinner as he sucked in a breath. Why hadn’t he pushed for more? He’d been so focused on his own heart breaking, he didn’t ask any real questions—and when Robby lashed out, he never really tried to understand. He’d only thought about losing Jimmy.
“And now, his fucked-up family,” she lifted her fingers in air quotes, “is here to deliver one more kick in the head.”
“His family?” he echoed, his brain still firing frantically over his revelation.
“It’s why I moved heaven and earth to track down your number, Prince Charming. His dad and his brother showed up here, raising hell, calling him a sinner and an embarrassment.”
Her words dragged him back into the moment. “Where are they now?”
She shrugged. “I hoped you’d be able to track him down. Make sure he’s okay. Of course, I didn’t know then you were capable of throwing him away just like everyone else ever has.”
Sara squeezed her eyes closed and drew a deep breath before opening them again. “I’m not saying your boy shouldn’t be your first priority. I think a lot of us would be better off if our parents cared so much. But you can’t just throw up your hands and let Robby go without a fight. Did you fight for him? At all?”
“No,” he breathed. Had anyone ever fought for him?
The answer dropped like a lead balloon.
Not until now. Not before Brick and Kane and…him. He would fight for Robby. He would meet Patty’s challenge head-on. Make her understand. For once in his life, he would stand up and fight.
If Robby killed a man, he did it to survive. He’d never hurt someone for pleasure or for personal gain. Matt knew it as sure as the sun, and he’d make sure Robby knew it too.
Heat crept up his neck. It wasn’t too late, though. Was it?
“You did the right thing, calling me. No matter how much of a fool I’ve been, I won’t make you regret it.” Though Robby probably regretted ever laying eyes on him after he walked away with the man’s heart still on the floor. “I should’ve trusted we could find a way to make things work. I want to help him now, though. See if there’s anything left to salvage.”
And see if there was any chance Robby might trust him enough to finally tell him the whole story.
Chapter
TWENTY-EIGHT
Robby
The splash of cold water on his face helped ground Robby amid the rioting emotions sparked by his family’s surprise visit. Leaning against the bathroom, he closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the running faucet.
His father didn’t deserve to occupy his thoughts. He’d written the entire lot of them off a long time ago. But the derision in his father’s voice brought him back to the night his entire world fell apart. He needed to stuff it all back inside the little box in his head.
The doorbell rang and his breath caught. Surely, they hadn’t followed him home, not after he’d sent them packing so spectacularly. His father did what he wanted, though. Always had.
Fine, then. He’d just tell him to go to hell all over again.
The bell sounded a second time before he could get his hand on the knob. “Wasn’t I clear enough—” The words died on his lips at the sight of Matt on his doorstep. He’d honestly never expected to see the man again.
He hardened his expression when he realized his jaw had gone slack. “I think we’ve said all we needed to say, don’t you?”
“Sara called me.” Matt bit his bottom lip. “She said your dad showed up. Are you okay?”
“Okay?” He scowled. “Yeah, Matt, I’m okay. I’ve learned how to live with disappointment.”
“I’m sorry,” Matt murmured. “Can I—Can…I please come in?”
Robby turned his back, but he left the door open as he walked into the living room. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall.
Matt shuffled in behind him. “I handled everything wrong the other night.”
Robby cocked his head. Waiting.
“Steve’s boyfriend overhea
rd us talking to Patty at the tattoo place. He said he knew you. Told us all kinds of horrible stories about your past.”
Sinking onto the sofa, Matt dropped his head into his hands. “I didn’t believe him. I called him a liar and told him to go to hell. So, he offered to take me there—to the club—and I saw you.”
“I wasn’t there for kicks,” Robby growled. The very idea made him want to be sick.
“I know. I didn’t go there to catch you doing wrong. I was trying to prove to Patty it was all a lie.” Matt lifted his head, his gaze searching. “I met Brady today. He and Sara set me straight on a lot of things. I was a fool not to fight for us. There’s so much about you I didn’t know. Why didn’t you just tell me before?”
He planted his feet and dropped his arms. “You make it sound so easy. Tell me, when exactly was the right time to bring up my past? When we met? When we became friends? How about when you found out I went to N.A.? Brick doesn’t even know the stuff I’ve done.” Though he realized now his friend would never judge him for it.
Neither would Matt. Even after everything went down, it was never about Matt judging him.
“I planned to tell you. Once we—” Made love? Screwed? “—slept together. I knew you deserved to know, but I never got the chance. Or maybe I just put it off because I didn’t want to face it. We’re talking about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I told you everything going on inside of me. I kept waiting for you to tell me whatever it was you were holding back, and you never did.” Matt shook his head, his hand hovering over his mouth. “I was afraid to ask.” He dropped his hand and lifted his chin. “But I’m asking now. Please tell me.”
“I’m not trying to take anything away from the stuff you’ve had to work through.” Robby needed to make him understand. “But the problems I had with my exes weren’t like the ones you had with Patty.”
Untucking his long sleeve T-shirt from his jeans, he pulled it over his head and dropped it at his feet. Slowly, he turned, giving Matt a full view of the crisscrossed path of scars across his back, before he faced him again. “You think I ever wanted you to see this?”
Matt’s eyes shone as he gritted his jaw. “Who did this to you?”
Robby shrugged. “Mostly a guy named Harry. He was a friend of John’s, and sometimes, they used to trade. Me for Harry’s boyfriend, Parker.”
Matt sucked in a breath. “Steve’s boyfriend, the one who took me to the club.”
“We used to be friends, sort of, but his life went one way, and mine went another. I got out, and he didn’t. I don’t know if he hates me for it or what. But, yeah, Harry was pretty sick, a sadist. He didn’t think of us as human. We were just things. To screw or to hurt or humiliate. The guy was dead inside. We were like ants burning under a magnifying glass. He got off on making me cry, bleed, hurt. I only went to him a few times—Parker lived with him for months. Who knows what that does to someone?”
“This guy, Harry, is he the guy you were talking about? The one…”
“I killed? Yeah.” His body shook as he said the words out loud, but Matt didn’t shrink back this time.
He’d never admitted what he’d done to anyone. He couldn’t even bring himself to pray about it. “I did a lot of drugs by then, just to get through it all. The night it happened, though, Harry had invited a bunch of guys over, and I was there as a party favor.”
Robby sank down onto the sofa next to Matt and stared at the floor. “I’d coked up plenty before I went, but it didn’t help much. It was like having four Harrys all at once.”
The memories bubbled close to the surface. “I knew he roofied me sometimes, and it was a blessing really because at least I don’t remember everything. I know there were videos he posted online. They’re probably still out there somewhere.”
Matt tried to take his hand, but Robby pulled away. The idea of anyone touching him right now made him physically ill. “That last night, I think our drinks got switched or something because I remember everything. But when it was all said and done, and the other guys had gone, Harry was practically unconscious.”
He relived the events as he recounted them aloud.
Every part of him hurt. The cold trickle of blood dripped down his back from the flogging. He’d be shocked if his ass wasn’t bleeding too. Even his own prep couldn’t prepare him for taking on so many men at once. They were all gone now, except for him and Harry.
Every move was agony. It hurt to swallow, a reminder of the guy who choked him when he came. It hurt to sit, to walk.
He pulled a bag of cocaine and a razor blade from the back pocket of the jeans he’d discarded on the floor.
Then, Harry laughed.
It was a drunken, filthy, and cruel chuckle, and it broke something inside of him.
He looked at the stocky, hairy, smelly bastard, reclining naked on the sectional couch, and all he could think of was making it all stop.
Clenching the blade, he strode forward, leaned over, and sliced. Everywhere he knew the blood would run quickest.
Harry was dead before he could even think about what he’d done. When it finally sank in, he carefully wiped his prints off the razor with a paper towel, then pinched it in Harry’s own hand.
He scrambled into his clothes and left the bastard in a pool of blood rapidly sinking into the upholstery.
“I went back to John’s, packed a bag, and never looked back.”
A lone tear trickled down Robby’s face before he swiped it away. Apparently, he was still capable of crying. “It took me a while before I could stop thinking about the coke all the time, especially when the memories got bad. But my meetings made all the difference. I haven’t gotten high since, and I haven’t cut myself either, no matter how bad it gets.”
“Cut yourself?” Matt’s voice remained even, but judging by the look in his eyes, it cost him.
Robby took a deep breath, then held out his arms. The shiny, silvery-white lines chronicled his last few months as John’s item for trade. “I never wanted you to see. Every day I look at these, I’m reminded how weak and pathetic I was back then.”
“Bullshit.” Matt’s sharp tone cut him off. “Your scars don’t prove you were weak. They prove you were strong enough to survive.”
“The cutting gave me some control at a time when I didn’t have any. Just like the coke, I knew I was hurting myself, but I didn’t care. Now I do.” Reminding himself he’d broken his shackles gave him the strength to finally throw the blade away the night Matt walked away. He refused to reenter the cycle of self-harm.
Still…
“I understand if you can’t look at me the same, knowing what I’ve done. Sometimes, I can barely look at myself.”
Matt’s intense stare softened. “God, Rob, none of this was your fault. You’ve been through hell. And I won’t judge you for what you had to do to pull yourself out. I love you.”
Something hard inside Robby yielded, but it didn’t change the reality of what had happened. “I believe you, and I love you too, but I’m not sure where we can go from here. You didn’t leave because you didn’t love me. You left so you could keep your boy—you can’t just will the problem away. And I kept things from you. Things you deserved to know if we ever had a chance at a life together.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I understand why you didn’t tell me.”
He chuckled softly. “Liar.”
Matt gripped his hands and scooted closer. “You were ashamed. Afraid. Even if you did have a choice, and I don’t think you did, your past is behind you. Patty has no right to judge you for it. I won’t let her keep us apart. There has to be a way to hold onto you and Jimmy both. Please.” His voice cracked. “Please let me try.”
He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. But he’d unloaded a lot on Matt tonight. What if he decided one day the truth was too much? What if the next time Robby’s past popped up, it tipped Patty right over the edge?
“I think we both need a little time. A little space
.”
“But Rob—” Matt sunk to his knees on the floor. “I’m ready to fight for us. Let me.”
Robby slid his hand over Matt’s cheek. “I need you to go. I’m not saying forever. But I am asking, for now. If you love me, respect me enough to do what I’m asking. You need to think about Jimmy. You’ll never forgive yourself if you lose your chance to be his father.”
Matt took a deep breath. He covered Robby’s hand with his own for a heartbeat, then released it and stood.
“I’ll go.” Head down, he started to leave but stopped with the door open. “I’m not giving up on you, though. As long as there’s a chance, I’ll keep coming back, until I can prove to you I’ll never walk away again. I’m going to find a way to keep you and Jimmy in my life.”
Chapter
TWENTY-NINE
Robby
It felt surreal going back to the construction-site without Matt there, knowing he’d probably never return. In a way, though, it freed them both. There was no room on the job for love or the loss of it. Whether he and Matt ever worked through their issues, Robby needed to keep a clear head at work.
At least it was what he told himself.
“You’ve been ducking my calls,” Brick rumbled as he stepped into the trailer where Robby sat behind Xander’s computer.
“Mine too,” Kane groused, closing the flimsy door behind him.
The two men settled on the small sofa against the long wall, their big shoulders taking up all the space. They mirrored each other, arms folded, jaws tight.
“This isn’t just a honeymoon period for you and Matt, is it?” Brick cocked his head. “Something’s going on.”
Robby thought about lying. About smiling and saying everything was fine. But it wasn’t. And if his best friends in the world—his brothers—couldn’t handle the truth, well, they weren’t the men he thought they were.
“I’ve never really told you a lot about myself.”