Claire breathes deeply into the phone. “Benji?”
“Yeah, he’ll do it. He can deal with it.”
A few moments of stilted silence filter through the phone line. I never bail and I never rock the boat. But the idea of passing over just one more day with Beau to spend it with someone else who has an affinity for pain play, well, my heart won’t allow it. Which is entirely new for me. The guys that make it hurt are usually my favorite, not the gentle giants that treat me like I’m as fragile as glass.
“Do you want me to reach out to Beau to let him know?”
“No,” I tell her firmly. “I’ll head there now. Also, only charge him your cut. Don’t take a cut for me.”
“Trevor,” Claire says, voice a frightened murmur. “I hope you know what you’re doing, honey.”
“Everything is fine.”
Except when I hang up with her, I know not everything is fine. And I know that for sure when I get home, hastily pack a bag, grab my keys to my shitty Toyota Corolla, and point my car towards Clay Springs. The seven-hour drive takes me just under five. Probably less to do with speeding and more to do with my total dissociation and need to just… get there.
My heart beats wildly as I slowly pull up to the gate in front of Beau’s property. I didn’t think this through at all. Thankfully, a large truck pulls up on the main road behind me, coming to a stop to investigate.
“Trevor?” a familiar voice calls out.
I lean my head out the window to find Colby standing just outside his truck. When he notices it’s me, his smile widens. He jogs towards my car, coming to a stop by the driver side window.
“Oh wow, he could really use you right now. Are you surprising him?”
I swallow hard against every rotten emotion swelling to the surface. “Yeah, it’s a surprise.”
Colby winks at me, before typing a code into the gate pad. “Be sweet with him. The past few days have been rough.”
I watch him with detached fascination as Colby runs back towards his truck, then disappears across the road to his own property. The gate beeps when it’s fully open, so I take that as my cue to pull on through. The road is more winding than I recall in my dreams. My car comes to a squeaking stop in front of the still all-too-familiar house. I really need to get my brakes checked.
A ragged Beau steps through the front door with a confused look my way. But at the sight of me, he softens like the weight ofthe world is falling off his broad shoulders. I make a mad dash to him without even grabbing my scant belongings. Beau gratefully slumps against me like he trusts me to hold him up. I pull him tight to my body. Beau might be taller, broader, and physically stronger than me, but I can still easily bear his weight.
“Lets go inside,” I whisper as I gingerly guide him back into the house.
Gently, I push him down onto the couch, and take a seat next to him, pulling him against the curve of my body. His head rests against my chest with all the pain of someone that’s lost the dearest thing to them. I know that pain, know that hurt. Everything inside me demands that I try to heal it, to take away that hurt. All I can do is be here for him when he needs me most.
I play with the dark brown hairs at the nape of his neck. His hair is longer than a few months ago, curling more at the edges. The house is exactly the same though, which I find comforting for some odd reason I can’t explain. Like Beau is too big of a force to change too much. Too steady to be rocked.
Beau doesn’t cry, but I think it’s an almost-thing. I hum some song I don’t know the words to as I comfort him with my touch, gliding my fingers through his hair, tenderly massaging the base of his neck.
My heart cracks wide open for him. The fierce need to make this better, make it easier on him, is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. I watched him make everything easy for his family for Andy’s wedding. Watched him bend backwards for them. And I know he’s doing that now too. So, I’m going to be his shoulder through the funeral. Then I’ll go back to the clubhouse. Back to my life.
“The agency said you weren’t available,” Beau says softly.
The urge to tell him all my secrets, all my truths, bubbles up inside me. Threatening to boil over like a steam engine barreling towards the end of the tracks. But I can’t, not now, not withhim just barely hanging on. Maybe one day, when we find one another again outside of this messiness, but not now. All he needs from me now is my weight to bear the heaviness of his grief. I’m going to be for him what I needed so many years ago.
“It was a misunderstanding. I’m here now.”
Beau rolls his head to look up at me. I push him down until his back is on the couch, so I can tenderly cup his face. His beard’s a little longer than I remember too. More wiry, more wild. I oddly like it. I run my finger under his lip and smile down at him.
“There you are.”
“My dad died.”
“I know.”
Beau shakily covers his eyes with his forearm. “My dad’s gone,” Beau says, voice trembling.
And then Beau’s crying, big, wracking sobs that break my already fractured-to-pieces heart. I carefully wiggle so that I can lie down over his body, pressing my weight down on him. His arms wrap around me, holding me tighter against him as if I can sink into him.
