“Rhys loves him.”
“I know.”
“Does Sebastian?” Beckett asked.
“I think he does, even if he forgets it sometimes.” Remington shrugged. “Sometimes Rhys gets a little heavy-handed in the way he demonstrates it.”
Beckett’s brows pulled together in a V. He could see the potential for that, sure, but with him, Rhys had never forced anything on him. But it was clear that the way Rhys was with him was not the way Rhys was with everyone else.
“You look like you don’t believe me.” Remington smiled.
“I believe you,” he said. “It’s just not my experience.”
“Is being with him not arduous?”
Beckett cleared his throat, embarrassed, shoulders slumping forward just barely. “To be honest, I’m not sure what that word means, Remington.”
What a reminder of how out of place Beckett was in this world he’d stumbled into.
“Sorry.” Remington’s cheeks flushed. “Jace says I do that a lot. It means like it takes work.”
“Being with Rhys is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he whispered.“And I’m not with him for his money.”
“I believe you.”
Beckett was about to ask about Jace when the door to the condo flew open, revealing a red-faced Sebastian…and only Sebastian. He looked like he was about to fall over and Remington flew toward him, wrapping Sebastian in his arms and bringing him inside. Remington peeked out the door and frowned, guiding Sebastian back to the table. Once they sat, Sebastian grabbed Rhys’s wine glass and drank the whole thing in one swallow.
“Where is Rhys?” Beckett finally asked. Time passed, the door stayed closed, and Sebastian stayed silent.
“Sebastian.” Remington dropped into a squat and rested his forearms on Sebastian’s knees. “What happened? Where is Rhys?”
“Uhm.” Sebastian blinked, like he didn’t know where he was. He scanned the room, scrunched his nose, and turned his stare finally to Remington. A tear slipped out of his eye and he sniffed, wiping madly at his cheeks. Remington grabbed his hands and settled them in his lap.
Beckett tangled his napkin in his fingers, standing. The chair slid back across the tile, drawing both of their attentions. Sebastian blinked rapidly, like he’d forgotten Beckett was even there.
“Where is Rhys?” he asked again, pulse racing.
“Father.” Sebastian cleared his throat, another tear sliding down the slope of his nose. “Father came.”
Remington’s shoulders sagged, like those two words were code for something Beckett would never understand, but then Sebastian looked directly at him and Beckett understood everything.
“He left,” Beckett whispered, hoping more than anything Sebastian would correct him, but all he got was another tear reflecting off the light of the chandelier hanging over the dining room table.
“He…Oh, God. I’ve been so horrible to him and he just…everything…” Sebastian devolved into mumbling nonsense, but Remington pulled Sebastian into his arms, again like all of the words made sense to everyone in the room but Beckett.
“Where is Rhys?” Remington asked, taking Sebastian’s face in his hands and forcing his attention. “Sebastian, where is your brother?”
“Our father is making him go home.” Sebastian’s face crumpled, but he pulled out of Remington’s hold to turn to Beckett. “He’s coming back, though. He’ll come back.”
Beckett dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone to call Rhys and get a straight answer about whatever was going on, but Sebastian reached for him.
“No,” Sebastian said. “He said don’t call. He’ll call when it’s safe.”
“When it’ssafe?” Beckett balked, curling his fingers around his phone. “What does that even mean?”
“Our father is a powerful and manipulative man,” Sebastian said, swiping angrily at his eyes until the tears stopped leaking.
Beckett fisted his hands at his sides, adrenaline coursing through him.
