“They’re good kids.”
“I have no doubt. It’s not a coincidence or a hassle. Not something I have to fix, but two kids I get a chance to know. No child is a burden, Rhett. Not one. They came into your life and then into mine for a reason.”
“You and destiny,” I tease because she’s a huge believer in fate.
“You’re damn right.” She kisses my cheek. “I love you, kiddo.”
“I love you too. Thank you for doing this.”
She only smiles at me, confident and strong as ever, shooting me a wink before she heads back into the room to explain more to Ian.
I don’t know why I’m one of the lucky ones that got out. But I won’t deny Max and Ian the chance to do the same.
FORTY-SEVEN
The social worker is here, sorting out paperwork, and Ian looks dead tired as he answers more questions. When they’re finished, Blair gives Ian a kind smile. “You ready to go home?”
He bolts straight up in the chair now, his eyes on Max as he shakes his head from side to side in a panicky motion. “No. I have to be here when he wakes up. He’ll freak out. He hates hospitals. Please don’t make me leave him.”
Blair swoops to his side, pulling him into an embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re exhausted though. You had a horrific day, and you need rest.”
His bottom lip trembles as he looks at her, scared and unsure. “He can’t wake up alone. He can’t.”
“I’ll be here,” Rhett declares.
“Me too,” I add because there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere.
Ian looks at both of us, still clearly worried. “He’s terrified of the dark. Don’t turn off the light. And he hates doctors.”
We both nod in assurance, and Rhett walks to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I promise you. We won’t leave him, and we’ll keep the lights on. Okay?” He kneels in front of Ian to look into his eyes. “Blair and Rhys, they’re such good people. I know it’s hard to believe, but I swear to you, they’re both good. And Bree and Fletcher will be there too. You’re in good hands or I wouldn’t let you go.”
Ian searches Rhett’s eyes—eyes I know are sure and full of strength. “Okay.”
We say goodbye as Blair hugs Rhett and promises him she’ll take good care of Ian and they’ll be back tomorrow. Then it’s just Rhett and me in the room with a sleeping Max. The nurse brings in two cot-like chairs, but neither of us lie down.
His body is thrumming with rage, and I can see and feel it from across the room as he stares at Max, who’s broken and beaten and lying in the hospital bed. “Rhett.”
He stalks to me, nearly manic. “It’s not fucking fair.”
His voice is quiet, but I hear the fury in it. “No. It’s not.”
“Why them?” He’s shaking, and I want to pull him to me, but I know he doesn’t want to be touched right now. He can’t be. “Why kids who’ve already had a shitty life? Why are they prey for men like that?”
It’s a rhetorical question. No one has the answer for that, and I don’t offer one.
“It’s not fair. They’re smart and funny. Good kids. They don’t deserve this.”
“No one does.”
His pained eyes meet mine. “You didn’t have to come.”
I nearly laugh at that because of course I did. Not only because I care about these kids, but because I can’t accept that Rhett and I can’t be together. All I’ve thought about the past month is him and how I want him.
How I can’t force myself into the box created by my father, no matter how badly I want to do good things with my grandfather’s company. I’ll just have to find another way.
Because I want Rhett.
But now’s not the time to tell him. Now, all I can do is be here for him. The night drags on, and neither of us really sleep. We don’t talk either, though, because there’s nothing else to say right now. It’s bullshit that assholes like the man who beat Max up exist. That they can hurt kids and get away with it for too long before someone finally intervenes.
The next day, Max is well enough to go home, and the doctors release him into Blair’s care. He’s dazed and clearly tired, but he goes with Ian and her back to her house. Rhett goes with them to get them settled, saying a quick thank you and goodbye to me. But I’m not done with him.
I say goodbye, but I know it’s not permanent. Not this time.
I go to my parent’s house, where it’s quiet after the party they threw yesterday for Thanksgiving. The house is pristine, which means the housekeepers have diligently done their job, as always.
I’m looking for my father but see no sign of him. He’s probably flown off somewhere already, unable to stand family life for too long. I do find my mother, passed out with a satin eye mask on her face and wine glass next to her on the couch.
“Mom.”
She stirs but doesn’t wake.
I need to do this before I lose my nerve. I need to tell someone. “Mom,” I say again, louder this time.”
She sits up from her slouched position on the couch, removing the eye mask and glaring at me. “What?”
Yeah, I’ve always been an inconvenience to this woman, but I assume she’ll be the easier of the two to break the news to, so I just go for it. “I’m gay.”
Her nose crinkles in instant disgust as she sits up straighter and blinks at me. “What did you just say?”
I stand firm. For Rhett but also for me. Because I can’t hide this anymore like some sort of disgusting secret. It’s not. What I feel for Rhett is beautiful. “I’m gay,” I repeat.
She scoffs, annoyed as she looks over at the empty wine glass, clearly disappointed there’s none left. “No. You’re not.”
“Yes, I am.” I can’t believe she’s being like this. I mean, I can, but I can’t. I thought she’d be the easy one. Which I guess speaks volumes about how difficult it will be with my father, but I don’t care.
“You’re not. And even if you were . . .” She stands, and her eyes—that everyone has told me my whole life are exactly like mine—bore into me. “You’ll change that. It’s unacceptable.”
“It’s not something I can or even want to change. I’m in love.” It feels good to say it out loud, despite her sour face.
She snorts. “Love. Please. This is ridiculous. Stop saying these things.”
I lean in. “I’m gay, and I’m in love, and I don’t give a fuck what you think about it. I’m quitting school and moving back here to be with him.”
Her eyes are shooting daggers in my direction, but I don’t back down. “No. You aren’t. You’ll lose everything, you know that. He’ll never give the company over to a . . .” She waves her hand in the air, looking for the appropriate hateful word, I’m sure.
“I don’t care.”
“No?” She might actually be evil. “You don’t care about your grandfather’s company? I know you do, Grayson.”
Of course, she’d try to use that against me. “I don’t care. I’ll build something else.”