Ash flipped over to lie on his back, eyes flat and blank, his handsome face ravaged by inner torment. “We thought he cared at first, our foster father. He’d buy us candy and take us to ball games and the circus. Our foster mom was timid, churchgoing, and clueless.” He hugged the pillow to his chest. “Later on we found out he’d hit her if she didn’t do what he said, when he said it. Dinner on the table and beer in his hand when he walked in the door. If not…” Ash punched the pillow. “But never where anyone could see. Or bad enough so she’d haveta go to the doctor. She’d lie for him anyway. He was a cop, a good ole boy. Who’d they believe, him or us?”
It was worse than Drew had imagined. These were the stories he’d only heard about, the ones he saw on the television that made him start the clinic in the first place.
Ash let go now, the words spilling from him like water. “When he moved on to us boys, I let him do whatever he wanted to me, ’cause they were littler, you know? I tried to protect them from him.” A lone tear trickled down his cheek. “I thought when I left they’d come with me, but they were too afraid to leave.”
“Who were they, Ash?” Drew covered Ash’s hand, shocked at the cool, clammy feel of his skin.
“The closest thing I’ve ever had to brothers. But I abandoned them, left them with him.” Ash’s eyes, huge, wounded, and now shiny with tears, captured Drew and pulled him into their gray depths.
“I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I’d end up dead if I stayed. I never thought they wouldn’t come with me, but at the last minute Luke changed his mind and Brandon was too young. I shoulda stayed.”
“You don’t know. Maybe it worked out for them. Maybe he left them alone.” Drew stroked his hand, trying to soothe his agitation.
“No, no, I know something terrible happened.” Ash sat up, pale and trembling. “You don’ understand.” He put a hand to his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”
Stumbling out of the bed, he rushed to the bathroom. Drew followed him silently, watching as he retched in the toilet. He slid down next to Ash and put his arm around his shoulders, holding him close, letting the man lean against him. He smoothed back the sweat-drenched hair and murmured quiet, nothing words of comfort into Ash’s ear until he finished. Without saying a word, he rinsed out a hand towel in cold water and placed it on the back of Ash’s neck.
A moan broke free from Ash. “Drew, why are you still here?”
“Because you’re my friend. And I don’t abandon my friends when they need me.” Without giving it a second thought, he brushed the hair off Ash’s face and kissed his cheek. Ash grew still, and Drew immediately sensed his withdrawal.
“Uh, I think I need to rinse my mouth and brush my teeth.” Although Ash stood without help, Drew noticed he still needed to brace his hands against the sink to steady himself. Their eyes met in the mirror. “I can take care of myself.”
Stung by Ash’s aloof and cold behavior, he nodded and withdrew to sit on the bed. After waiting several moments, a horrified thought crossed his mind. Was Ashhurtinghimself in the bathroom? Visions of the man bleeding had him up and off the bed, halfway across the room, when Ash opened the bathroom door, wrapped in a robe.
“Are you all right?” His gaze flickered to Ash’s arms. “I, was, uh getting a little worried.”
Ash’s hands tugged at the sleeves of his robe; a gesture Drew now knew to be a defensive one of long-standing habit. “About what? Thinking I was doing something to myself in the bathroom?”
There was a cruel tinge to his words, but Drew, knowing Ash better now, understood. It was his way of keeping him at arm’s length so he wouldn’t find out more or get any closer to him. What Ash didn’t know was that Drew had an infinite level of patience. The man could take as long as he wanted, but Drew would find a way to help him.
“Are you back to being that asshole from when we first met? Is that how you think you’re going to push me away? Maybe Peter is afraid to step on your toes, but I’m not.” Drew tipped his head back a little to stare into Ash’s eyes. For a moment he thought he saw something flicker in those clear, silvery depths before the shutters came down, blanking out any expression.
Ash opened his mouth, but the phone rang, cutting off whatever spiteful remark he might have planned. Drew watched the alarm flare in Ash’s eyes before he hastened over to the night table and picked up.
“Hello?” His breathless voice caught, then became sharp with excitement. “No, no, it’s not too late. I told you to call no matter what the time. Are you sure, Martinson? Tell me everything you know.” He listened for a moment, and Drew could tell by the expression that lit up his face, something important had happened. “Wait, can you hold for a moment?” Ash put the phone down and gave him a sideways glance.
“Um I have to take this call, and it’s private, so…” Ash shrugged, his gaze flickering back to the phone.
Son of a bitch, he’s dismissing me as if I worked for him. Hurt, Drew gave a tight nod. “Sure. See you around.” Ash had already returned to the phone as if he didn’t care what Drew’s answer was.
Before he left the room, he heard Ash’s voice, raised in excitement. “You found both of them, or one? Tell me everything.”
I’m doing this to try and help him. That was the justification Drew played over and over as he listened in the doorway, trying to make sense of the conversation.
Chapter Thirteen
After he hung up the phone with Martinson, instructing him to spare no time and expense to continue his search, Ash glanced at the clock by his bed. Surprised to see it was only one thirty in the morning, and restless enough to know he wasn’t ready for sleep, he threw on a pair of pants and a shirt, drank a bottle of water in a few gulps, and left his apartment. His body hummed with excitement as he exited his building, automatically heading toward a bar he frequented when he wanted anonymous, hot sex.
The dim, below-street-level bar was packed, he noted with satisfaction. There would be no problem with him working off the buzz of pleasure that had built up in his body during Drew’s aborted visit.
At the thought of Drew, regret slammed through him, hard and vicious, but he quashed it down, unwilling to face those feelings at the moment. He slid into a seat vacated at the bar, and Danny, his usual bartender, had his vodka poured and ready.
Though still somewhat light-headed from the evening’s earlier drinking, he needed the sweet, beautiful oblivion only alcohol could give him, to help him forget what a piece of shit he’d been toward Drew.
“Hello, Ash, how’s it shaking tonight?” Danny winked at him as he shook a martini for another customer.
“Good, my man.” The vodka slid down his throat like water. “Another one, Danny. It’s been a bitch of a night.”
