Restoration 01 - Getting It Right (33 page)

“I’ve said it before, Mom, but I’ll say it again. You need to see a therapist. Talk it out.

Get some help, because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“James—”

“No, I mean it. I’m done feeding your drama and your delusions. Get professional help, please.”

“Or what? You’ll stop talking to me? Forget I’m your mother?”

James allowed his silence to create an answer inside her own head, based on her worst fears. He couldn’t outright say yes, he’d forsake her, because that wasn’t a threat he could ever hope to live up to. She was still his mother, crazy and all. But she needed help, and he was done enabling her.

Her tears dried up. Her face hardened with anger, and that was the moment that James gave up. He wasn’t going to be manipulated anymore.

“I love you,” James said, “but it’s time for us to leave.”

Nathan didn’t protest. He said a polite goodbye to Grace while James waited by the front door. His mother didn’t speak to or look at him.

James’s anger compounded with each step he took toward his vehicle. Anger at her, at himself and at the entire fucked-up situation. He needed to let go of the past so he could truly have a future with Nathan. If that meant tough love with his mother, so be it. She had to want to get better. He couldn’t make that decision for her.

His choice to get sober and stay sober had taught him that.

God, I need a beer or five.

The thought jarred him, and his key missed the ignition. He’d done so well these past two weeks. He was not going to allow his mother’s drama to tip him back off the wagon.

I am
not
. No beer. No nothing.

A good hard fuck wasn’t entirely out of the question, and it would help keep his mind off his craving for alcohol. But since their first time trying anal sex, Nathan had only initiated it twice more, and they weren’t at the point yet where James felt comfortable going hard and fast with him. He wasn’t going to force the issue to keep himself sober. He had more fucking willpower than that.

I think.

“Do you want me to drive?” Nathan asked.

“No.” James collected himself, and then jammed the key into the ignition.

He drove by rote, grateful Nathan wasn’t trying to make him talk. He wasn’t entirely certain of his route or his intentions until Nathan made a soft, startled sound.

“I thought we were staying at your place tonight,” Nathan said.

“I am.” Jesus, that sounded harsh.

“And I’m not?”

“I’m sorry, I just need a little space tonight.”

“Space.”

He risked a glance at Nathan and wished he hadn’t. The hurt etched on Nathan’s face made James’s insides quake. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, these are the kinds of problems that partners help each other through. You aren’t supposed to run off and deal with it alone.”

“This coming from the relationship expert.”

“Oh fuck you, Jay. I get that your mom pushed your buttons tonight, but you did the right thing. She needs professional help, and she won’t get it if she still has you to coddle her and feed into her delusions.”

“I still feel like a bastard for doing it.”

“That’s because you love her.”

James didn’t answer. He also didn’t alter his route.

Eventually he pulled up to the curb in front of Nathan’s duplex. Nathan stared at him from the passenger seat, making no move to exit.

“I really wish you would come inside and talk to me,” Nathan said after the stare down had lasted a full minute. “I’m worried that you’re going to grab a six-pack on the way home, and that the last two weeks will have been for nothing.”

“Oh really? So our time together is only meaningful if I’m sober?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s how it sounded.”

“Don’t fall back into old habits. We’re trying to move forward, remember?”

“I know that, Nate, but sometimes even couples need time apart. I just… please?”

Nathan grunted. “I wanted to talk to you tonight, about something important.”

As angry as he was at his mother, James couldn’t ignore Nathan when it really mattered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Will you come inside? For a few minutes, please?”

“Nate, I’m tired and—”

“It’s about the night I was assaulted.”

No other words could have gotten James’s attention more directly or intensely. “Did you remember something new?”

“No, it’s not new. Something happened before the actual assault. Something I left out of my police report because it was private and, I thought, irrelevant to the case.”

Nathan Wolf didn’t fudge reports or leave things out. The enormity of his secret made James’s gut tighten—the very worse of which sprang immediately to mind. It explained Nathan not paying attention to his surrounds as he left the alley, allowing himself to be jumped.

Fuck.

“Was it with one of the johns?” James asked.

“No.”

Oh thank Christ.

“It was one of the prostitutes.”

“What?” James unlocked his seat belt and shifted around to face Nathan, hatred for this nameless, faceless person flaring bright. “One of them—they—I mean, fuck, Nate.”

Nathan blinked at him as if he was insane, and then understanding made his eyebrows lift. “Oh shit, Jay, not that. I wasn’t raped, I swear.”

Relief had a difficult time driving his anger away. Something had happened with one of the working boys, something big enough for Nathan to omit it from his statement. James wasn’t going to like the answer he got. “Then what happened?”

After a deep inhale and a long, slow exhale, Nathan said, “I was still mad about what happened on the parking garage roof. Pissed off and hurt that you rejected me when I’d admitted something so intensely private, and this isn’t me blaming you. It’s how I felt.” He picked at nonexistent lint on his trousers. “When I was info-gathering for the Spokes case I got to talking to a pro named Wily. He was smart and not just street-smart. He didn’t buy that I was a friend trying to track Spokes down. I didn’t admit to being a cop, but he knew I wasn’t like him. We bullshitted for a while. He was nice, good-looking. Clean.”

James didn’t like where this was going but he had no power to alter their course.

“Wily asked why I looked so sad, and I told him I got rejected by a guy I’d loved, mostly subconsciously, for a long time. The truth. Wily said the guy was a fool and offered me a free blow job to cheer me up.”

He needed to hear Nathan say it. “And?”

“And I said yes. I don’t know if I did it to punish you, or to prove something to myself, but Wily put a condom on me and blew me in the alley behind the 7-Eleven.” Nathan spoke so plainly, as though he was reading the ingredients on a cereal box. No emotion. Not regret or shame. Not even pride. Nothing.

No hint as to how James was supposed to feel about this, because his own emotions were failing him. Numbness crept in around the edges. He’d pushed Nathan away that night. He had no right to get mad about Nathan finding comfort elsewhere. James had had more sex partners than he could count. He couldn’t be jealous over one guy sucking Nathan’s dick.

Oh yes I can.

“A fucking hooker, Nate?”

Nathan flinched, the first real sign of regret creeping into his eyes. “I never gave him money, and he didn’t ask for any. It was just something between…acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances shake hands, they don’t suck each other off.”

“So you got to be best buddies with all the guys you’ve fucked over the years?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Sure it is. You weren’t the first guy to suck my dick. Sorry, James, but you gave up that right when you pushed me away.”

“I’ve explained that!”

Nathan slapped his open palm against the dash. “I’m not telling you this to pick a fucking fight, okay? I tried not to think about it at all until recently.”

“Why? What changed?”

“Besides us?” Nathan didn’t hide his sneer. “How about I found out that Wily was the third victim of our serial killer? The case I’ve been working since I got back.”

A flare of sympathy dimmed some of James’s outrage—but not all of it. “That sucks, Nate. Did you tell anyone else about your connection?”

“Hell no. There is no connection. Wily died weeks later in a different part of town. Look, he’s been on my mind ever since I found out he was dead, and I wanted you to know this. I don’t want to keep secrets from you. Of all people, James, I need to be honest with you.”

James couldn’t fault Nathan the way he wanted to. Nathan had only been back a little over a month, and that wasn’t enough time to expect him to unpack every little thing he’d kept to himself. James had imagined this secret to be so much worse than a consensual blow job, and he was fucking relieved it was so small.

Relatively speaking.

It was big for James, who’d been proud of being the only guy for Nathan. The only guy he’d been with. And now that wasn’t entirely true anymore.

“You know,” Nathan said, “I honestly can’t tell if you’re mad at me or not, and that’s not normal. So are you mad, or what?”

“I don’t know what I think right now.” And that was the truth. After his dramatic showdown with his mother, he didn’t have the strength to fight with Nathan. He wanted a drink, and then sleep. Definitely sleep.

The drink was a bad idea, but he still fucking wanted one.

“You’re still not coming inside, are you?” Nathan asked.

“No.” James didn’t have to think about his answer. More than ever, he needed to be alone for a while. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“Right. Call me later, okay? Or tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll call, I promise.”

Nathan took his time getting out of the vehicle. Prolonging the goodbye or searching for some other argument to keep James there, he had no idea. James wouldn’t stay. He needed to think, plain and simple.

I need a drink.

He couldn’t have one if Nathan was around playing his conscience.

Nathan didn’t say anything else. He tossed a sad smile James’s way, then shut the door.

James watched, his heart beating too hard, too fast, as Nathan walked up the short path to his side of the duplex. In only a moment, the front door swallowed him up.

I should go in with him.

“Fuck it.”

Quarter to eight on a Sunday. James did a three-point turn on the quiet street and headed to a nearby liquor store that stayed open until eight o’clock. Moving on some part of his lizard brain that wanted this to happen, James was in and out of the store right before it closed down for the evening.

He drove back to his apartment building on autopilot. Parked. Then he sat in his idling vehicle with the brown paper bag on the passenger seat, while his thoughts tumbled around in his head.

Nathan had let a hooker suck him off.

His mother was delusional and he’d basically cut her out of his life.

He was an alcoholic and he’d just bought a bottle of Bushmills.

He craved that burn.

It terrified him too.

James tugged his phone from his pocket and dialed. Two rings and it switched over to voice mail.

He hung up.

“Fuck this.”

He tucked the bottle under his arm and headed for the stairs. If Wally called him back before he got to his apartment, fine. If not? He had a date with his Irish whiskey, sobriety be damned.

Five steps from his door, an unfamiliar voice called out, “Excuse me?”

James paused, annoyed at the interruption. A young man he didn’t know was walking toward him, hands tucked into the pockets of his loose jeans. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, sorry to bug you, but I’m down the hall and I locked myself out. Do you happen to have the super’s number?”

Idiot.

“Sure, somewhere inside,” James said. “Give me a second, okay? I just got home.”

“Of course, no rush. I appreciate it.”

James unlocked his door, aware of the young man hovering nearby, watching him with an unguarded smile. As though he had a secret he couldn’t wait to share. It prickled at James’s sense of wrong. The neighbor didn’t try to come inside, though. He lingered in the doorway while James rifled in a drawer for the information he’d tucked there when he first moved in.

His phone rang during the search. Wally calling him back. James silenced the call. He didn’t need to vent about the whiskey purchase with his neighbor standing right there.

“I like your place,” the stranger said.

“Thanks.” James found the sheet of paper he needed.

“Drinking alone tonight?”

He’d come a few steps inside, and that ticked James off. He hadn’t been invited.

“That’s the plan,” James said. “What did you say your name was again?”

His neighbor grinned, and something in that wicked smile made James’s insides wobble.

“I didn’t, Dr. Taggert.”

Nate paced his living room like a caged lion, angry and unable to breach the walls around him.

Stuck in a situation he hated and didn’t have a clue as to fixing it. The night hadn’t gone anywhere close to how he’d expected and fessing up to the blow job while sitting outside had not been the plan at all. He’d wanted to do it inside so he could explain properly.

Instead he’d blurted it all out like a teenager who’d been caught with his hand in another kid’s pants.

James Taggert was the most important person his life, but goddamn he could also be the most irritating.

Stubborn, stubborn fool.

The only positive side to the night had been James’s refusal to be reeled in by his mother’s drama. Walking away from someone you loved who was obviously hurting was never an easy task. Walking away from a parent had to be excruciating.

And then James had gone and walked away from Nate.

Again.

Circumstances were far different from that night five months ago when James had let Nate walk away from him, but the feelings were the same. Anger. Embarrassment. Confusion.

He’d told James something intensely private—
again
—only to be rebuffed.

Again!

Both of them were good at their respective jobs, but when it came to communicating with each other? They fucking sucked at it.