Devoted (5 page)

H
e’d fucked up
.

From the instant the words left his mouth, he knew it. The abrupt change in Russ’s expression was heartbreaking, like a lance driven straight through his gut.

What had he been thinking? Why did he even bring it up? He knew it was too soon for that. Even
he
found the idea of Russ finding someone else upsetting.

Though his reason wasn’t exactly selfless.

Maybe Lynn was right. Maybe he’d been trying to insert himself into this situation and magically make things better.

What exactly was his plan? Introduce Russ to some nice girl so he could break out his tux and be best man again? Get shuffled back onto the sidelines where he could watch Russ and Ryan from a distance, knowing he’d never have what that woman had?

The idea of it already made him unreasonably upset.

But maybe he’d been thinking of something even worse. Maybe his treacherous heart hoped somehow Russ would consider
him
a partner.

He almost groaned aloud at the thought, using his free hand to scrub over his face. Was that really what he’d been suggesting?

It wasn’t the first time he’d had such a fantasy. Back when Carrie was still alive, it’d been trickier. He would never have wanted to hurt her, but he’d imagined Russ suddenly realizing he was gay, not straight. And Carrie somehow still being friends with both of them, and being actively involved in their life with Ryan.

Now, the fantasy was different. He was able to give Russ comfort, and through that, his friend would realize what a good partner he’d make; how good Jake could be for Russ and Ryan both.

Both fantasies were ridiculous and selfish; thoughts he rarely indulged in. Only when he’d had way too much to drink or was feeling particularly sorry for himself.

He was never going to be that partner for Russ. Thinking otherwise was a good way to become more acquainted with the bottom of a bottle.

And Lynn would kick his ass if that ever happened again.

So he made a point of sipping his beer slowly, vaguely watching the TV. It was left on some true-crime channel, something he normally found fascinating. Right now, he couldn’t follow along with the case or concentrate on much of anything aside from a strong desire to go upstairs and apologize to Russ for even suggesting something so stupid.

When he heard the stairs creak, he thought about doing just that. Apologizing from the get-go, just to clear the air between them.

But Russ beat him to the punch.

“Surprised you didn’t split.” He reached the end of the stairs and let out a sigh. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. You’re a better friend than me.”

Right now, Jake wasn’t so sure.

“Look, I’m sorry for biting your head off over the whole… remarriage thing.”

“It’s really okay. I was out of line.”

“You were just trying to help. It’s not even the worst idea in the world. I mean… anyone else on the planet would probably have better insurance than me, right? So that’d be one problem solved,” he said with a weak smile.

Jake returned it just as weakly, but as the words sat in his mind, he started to digest them. Russ had the best insurance he could afford while self-employed, which wasn’t much.

He might not be far off the mark in assuming a spouse would have better insurance. Possibly a lot better. Enough to keep Russ from having to potentially face selling off his business or even claiming bankruptcy just to pay Ryan’s medical bills in a timely fashion without completely destroying his credit.

And Jake had excellent insurance.

Fuck. Was he really thinking about this?

“What if you didn’t have to marry someone new?”

Jake’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Holy fuck. He’d actually let that sentence escape his mouth, which meant he actually had to follow it up with a coherent thought to get across the sudden idea that popped into his mind.

No matter how he looked at it, it was 100 percent certifiably insane. He should just march himself down to the clinic now and check himself in for this serious lapse in judgment.

“What, like start calling up exes and see who wants to get hitched so I can mooch off their insurance?” Russ said it so casually that it was obvious he wasn’t taking it seriously.

And why should he?

“Not exactly.”

Jake looked down to find his hand shaking. He gripped his beer bottle tight, trying to stop it from being noticeable. The words wanted to claw out of his throat, and he was having to choke them back with every passing moment. This was such a bad idea. He should laugh it off and never speak of it again.

But instead, he opened his mouth and the words came tumbling out.

“I have great insurance.”

Jake wasn’t breathing anymore. He wasn’t moving. He definitely wasn’t daring to look at Russ. His world consisted only of the insistent pounding of his heart and the cold sense of dread that filled his stomach like a lead weight.

And then Russ laughed, and Jake felt the most distressing clench as his heart constricted. Of course Russ thought he was kidding. The two of them getting married? That would have to be a joke.

“Are you offering to make an honest man out of me, Larson?”

Jake ventured a glance over at his friend. He was smiling, and there was a color to his face that hadn’t been present for a very long time. If Jake wasn’t about to die of humiliation, it might be worth it.

At least until Russ started to realize he wasn’t joking. Jake could see the change in him. His expression went slack, his eyes registering recognition. Russ touched his face, looked away, then looked back at him. It was almost comical.

“Shit. When you said you’d do anything for me, you weren’t kidding.”

I’d marry you in a heartbeat.

But he knew that heartbeat would never come. He could—and really should—play it off now. Just lie and say he was joking. But Russ would know. Jake was a terrible liar. And having that between them would make it even more awkward.

So instead, he decided to go full bore and plead his case.

“I know it sounds crazy—”

“Yeah, it does.”

“—but marriage is legal here now. We’d be given the same rights as anyone else. I’d add you to my policy, and Ryan would be covered, too. His surgery, all his care, it would cost a fraction of what it’ll cost on your insurance.”

Russ looked at him like he was crazy. His gut churned. “Yeah, it would be great if you could just add me to your policy. But we’d be
married
, Jake.”

“Legally, yes. But it wouldn’t have to be a big deal. We’d go to the courthouse, get it done without any fanfare, fill out the paperwork, and that would be that. After Ryan’s better, we can get it annulled.”

He lifted his hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this…”

Oh, he was digging his own grave when it came to his friendship with Russ. But now that he’d started, he had a compulsion to finish. Lynn was right. He was a glutton for punishment, and a poster boy for White Knight Syndrome.

“If you and I get married, nothing between us will change. You won’t have to make a commitment you don’t want to make. You won’t have to worry about betraying Carrie or explaining anything to Ryan. Everything will stay the same between us, except for a few pieces of paper.”

He was trying so hard to sell it, and at this point he had no idea if it was because he wanted to help, or if it was for more selfish reasons.

“Isn’t that the definition of insurance fraud? You and I could both be put away, or fined at the very least.”

“That’s why we keep it low-key. Like I said: We go down to the courthouse, get two random witnesses, and it’s done. Nobody has to know. Not even Ryan.”

“Okay, so let’s just say everything goes off without a hitch. Shit, no pun intended.” He took a long swig from his bottle. “What happens when you find some guy you
actually
want to marry? He should be your first husband, Jake.”

Pain gripped his heart, grabbing hold and refusing to let go. The words were right on the tip of his tongue.
You’re the only one I want. My first and only.
But he wouldn’t say that. Even if Russ somehow suspected that Jake had feelings for him, saying it out loud—and saying it now—would destroy their friendship for good.

“If he can’t understand why I did this, then I shouldn’t be marrying him at all,” he said earnestly.

Russ took a moment to digest that, it seemed. Jake watched his friend’s face; watched the contortion of lines that had never been there in college. A couple of creases in the forehead. Crinkles at the corner of the eyes. Life had taken a toll on Russ, but to Jake he still looked like the same guy he’d fallen for all those years ago when they’d been given their dorm assignments.

“I don’t know. This is… I don’t know.”

It wasn’t a no. Jake let out a breath and just nodded, taking another sip of beer. The liquid suddenly tasted more sour than he remembered.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it. I mean, it’s a better idea than robbing a bank or knocking over a liquor store or something, right?” He quirked a smile he didn’t really feel.

Russ shook his head, smiling in return. “Are you writing my vows for me? ‘I guess being married to you is better than robbing a bank?’”

Jake actually did laugh at that, and lightly punched his friend in the arm. “Asshole.”

At least Russ didn’t hate him. He could live with the embarrassment of throwing such a crazy plan out there. He might be able to live with it if Russ knew he would give anything to make him happy; to actually be a good husband who would love and support him like no one else.

But he couldn’t handle getting the cold shoulder. As long as that didn’t happen, things might turn out all right.

O
ver the past week
, the kitchen table had become the piece of furniture Russ hated most in the entire house, rising above even the floral divan his mother had given him as a wedding gift.

Ryan had gone to school, on the promise that he’d be excused from PE to avoid injuring his eye further. He hadn’t wanted his son to feel like his life was going to be completely uprooted because of this, so he’d done what he thought was best.

And while it gave him plenty of time to stress out over everything without having to worry about whether or not Ryan saw him, it also gave him… plenty of time to stress out over everything.

The kitchen table had become his war table. He’d eschewed working in his workshop for several hours each day in favor of going through every bill, every statement, every scrap of paper he could find to try and make it work.

They all kept telling him the same damn thing:
Nice try, buddy
, but it’s never gonna happen.

He was quickly facing a reality in which he’d have to get a loan from his parents, or suffer the interest nightmare of a payment plan.

Just thinking about asking his parents for money made his skin crawl and his throat close. They would do it. His dad would write a five-figure check without thinking twice.

But he’d gone down that road once before, back when he’d decided to start his woodworking business. He’d applied for every business loan under the sun and had been turned down, so he’d gone to his parents. They offered a no-interest loan, but what it actually turned into was a way for his father to look in on his life and his business as often as he pleased.

When the business hadn’t taken off, Russ had been in the red and beholden to his father’s “advice.” Not to mention the guilt trips his mother gave him whenever he and Carrie came over for family dinner.

He’d go down that road if there was absolutely no other choice, but he was afraid of the power it would give his parents. They already had plenty of opinions on how he should be raising Ryan; most of which involved letting them raise him.

And Russ would go out and get two “real jobs” before he ever let it come to that. He wasn’t going to be separated from his son.

He could shuffle his cards around and get on the lowest payment plan possible. The hospital couldn’t squeeze blood from a stone, after all. But he knew they’d try, and he’d end up absolutely screwed if another emergency cropped up.

And that wasn’t even taking into account saving for Ryan’s college tuition.

“Fuck!” Russ let out a growl of frustration, clutching his head in his hands.

He reached for the phone and prepared to swallow his pride. He had to do what was best for Ryan, not what was best for himself. If that meant calling his parents…

Anxiety wound through him and his stomach roiled as it rang once, then again before his father picked up.

“Russell, what a pleasant surprise.”

He doubted it was, but he’d gotten over his rebellious teen stage. He was tired of contradicting his parents at every turn.

“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”

“Business is going well, and your mother hasn’t found anything to nag me about today, so I can’t complain. What about you? I thought you’d be ankle-deep in sawdust by now.”

It sounded like harmless ribbing, but Russ knew better. It was a subtle jab at Russ’s choice to do blue-collar work when he could have gotten into business with his father.

“Something more important came up. Actually, I need to talk to you guys. Can you call Mom in and put it on speaker?”

If he knew his parents, his mother was already standing right there. He thought he’d heard her berate his father for his earlier comment, and sure enough, the phone clicked down almost immediately. He heard her voice shortly after.

“Russell, what’s this about? Is something the matter with your business? Do you need another loan?”

Russ gritted his teeth. Why did they have to immediately jump to that?

“The business is fine, Mom. It’s…” He raked a hand through his hair, trying to think of the best way to say it. “Ryan got injured during his soccer game last weekend.”

“Is he all right?” His father asked.

Which left his mother free to do the screeching. “I told you not to let that boy play such rough sports. I told you something like this would happen!”

Christ. It was easy to remember why he’d dreaded telling them.

“He’s okay. His leg’s okay, anyway. But he complained about some vision problems, and the eye doctor said he’s got a tear in his retina.”

“A tear? How could that have happened?”

“Don’t be dense, Edward. You know very well how it happened. He was hit while playing on that damn team. Russell, how could you put him through that?”

Russ’s fingers curled against the table, his nails scraping against the wood. He drew in a breath, then let it out slowly through his nose. “It was a freak accident, Mom. The doctor wasn’t even sure the contact caused it. It could have happened either way.”

“I can tell you what wouldn’t have caused it—a safer sport.”

“Let the boy talk, Margaret.”

“You aren’t taking him to one of those awful public hospitals, are you? We can get him a private room at our hospital. He’ll be much more comfortable there.”

This was why he hated asking his parents for money. Yes, they gave it freely and seemingly without thought. But it was always couched in condescension, and with a pretty blatant suggestion that Russ had no idea what he was doing.

He just couldn’t handle that right now.

“I’ve got it covered. Look, I have to run, but I wanted to let you guys know. Talk to you later.”

He hung up just as the protests started, and pressed the ignore button when his dad predictably called back. For a while he just stared at the home screen, trying to calm down. It took him a few moments to notice there was an email notification from Jake, with an attachment just named “policy.”

Russ hesitated. He could call his parents back; apologize and ask for a loan that would cover the cost of treatment at Northwest Regional. His parents wouldn’t like it, but they’d agree.

If he did that, though, he’d owe them. Yet again.

Whereas Jake didn’t seem to want anything in return.

Unable to stop himself, he opened the email. The PDF gave an overview of Jake’s policy, and he could instantly tell it was worlds better than his own.

Four words accompanied the attachment:

Jake had said it would be easy. In-and-out. No one had to know. And if no one knew, there was no one to judge. No one to tell him what a terrible idea it was and how he was going to sink like a stone to the very bottom layer of hell. If that was the case, he and Jake might not have anything to lose.

Just a contract between friends. Nothing more.

Christ. Was he really considering this? Russ let out a ragged laugh. He was pretty sure he’d seen a movie like this before, full of zaniness and hijinks.

Hell, even Carrie would probably approve.

But this wasn’t college. This wasn’t some crazy stunt to get a laugh. If he did this, it had to be because it was the best option for Ryan.

Russ let out a slow breath, weighing it out in his mind. He’d owe Jake for this, no doubt about that. But he knew his friend would never hold it over his head the way his parents, or even the bank, would.

Which option would disrupt Ryan’s life the least? When it came down to it, the answer was easier than he thought it would be.

Swiping his phone back to life, he responded to Jake’s email with just three words of his own: