D’Artangnan had been willing to die for him.
As he lay over him, bleeding out, he’d told him he’d be his one and only forever. That he loved him, and that he’d wait for him on the other side.
It hurt to think someone else might have heard those words too.
Michael shared.
“I also work for the Blackhawks. I was shot protecting Christopher Leonard. I nearly died.”
Graham’s heart thumped in his chest as it raced in fear and horror that he nearly died then too.
As he was resting against him, Michael could feel the thumping against his back.
He continued.
“They sent me here to recoup, and to hide out. This was where I was supposed to lie low.”
Graham was curious.
Something was confusing him.
“From what, exactly? It couldn’t be good since they sent you here and we’re haunted by some angry ghost that’s trying to kill people. Callen and Chris both are well aware of that.”
Michael was honest.
What choice did he have?
While he knew that Graham had never loved anyone else, and kept his promise to be true to him, Michael hadn’t. He’d betrayed them both on that front.
Oh, they’d both fucked plenty of people to survive, from what he saw on that bathroom stall wall, but Michael had jumped the gun and proposed to Riley.
He’d moved on.
Like a coward.
“It was to protect me from someone who had really hurt me.”
Graham’s heart ached.
“The person who shot you?” he asked, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder.
Well, here it came.
He was going to have to say the words, and he knew that was going to be problematic.
“No, it was to protect me from my fiancé.”
It hit like a well-aimed bomb.
In seconds, hope and the memories were decimated, as Graham knew his worst fears had come true.
D’Artangnan Graves, the only love of his life, had moved on, and had a life back home.
The second the words were out of D’Artangnan’s mouth, Graham moved, pushing him away, and scurrying to the bathroom like he was being chased.
He needed to escape.
Here came the hangover, and the cold-hard slap of reality that what was, would never be again.
