Sam, however, reached for him and touched his arm, then pointed to the back door which Basil hadn’t gone through before. He nodded at Basil, then pointed again, and Basil understood what he was trying to say.
His legs shook a little, his body still humming from the endorphins released by the pain, but he managed a steady stride all the way back, then through the door which led right into a small room. The walls were covered in flash, a single table in the middle surrounded by five chairs, and the top a mess of markers, colored pencils, and charcoal sticks.
Derek was there, his face in his hands, elbows shaking as they held him up. He didn’t acknowledge Basil walking in, but when Basil touched his shoulder, Derek stiffened. He felt his throat tighten with what he was about to do, but all this reminded him that he was well and truly falling for this man, and this man was hurting.
“Derek,” he said aloud. He’d been practicing in secret, and no real way to tell if he’d gotten in right, but the speech lessons he’d taken when he was dating Chad had been burned into his memory forever. He’d always been bitter about them. Until now. Until Derek looked up with wide, watery eyes, shocked at the sound of Basil’s voice.
With trembling hands, Derek used the table to push himself up.He hovered over Basil for a second, hands in the air almost uselessly until they cupped the sides of Basil’s face and his thumbs stroked over his heated skin. He didn’t say anything, just looked at him, but that look was a novel of words.
He was hurting, and he didn’t know what he wanted, but there was gratitude lurking behind the pain at Basil’s presence.
“I’m sorry,” he said, continuing to speak.
Derek shook his head, his hands drifting from Basil’s cheeks to his wrists. He squeezed them gently, raising them, before letting him go. ‘Sign. Please. I know you hate voice.’
Basil went up on his toes to even their height, then he kissed him. Nothing deep, just a soft press of lips to remind Derek that he was here, and he’d do anything for him. Literally anything. He pulled back as Derek’s hands settled on his waist, and he gave himself enough space to sign. ‘What can I do?’
‘Nothing,’ Derek told him. ‘I need to…’ His hands fluttered to a stop, then he shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Basil knew, though. He knew what came after. The paper work and the meetings and dealing with everything left behind. There would be creditors to deal with, and debt, and any property. He knew very little about Derek’s past, but he knew his father had been a disgraced politician and that meant there would be more than just the standard will. It meant things would come to light, and Sage and Derek would have to come forward after disappearing, and it meant there would be questions.
Derek would have to decide if he wanted to tell the truth—if he wanted the world to know what he’d suffered at the hands of that man.
‘I want to help,’ Basil told him, making sure Derek didn’t break their gaze. ‘Please.’
Derek licked his lips, then nodded. ‘Stay with me? Tonight. Sage and I need to fly to New York. I can’t ask you to come, too far, toolong.’
Basil shook his head firmly. ‘No. Not too far. Not too long. Amaranth can work, I can go with you. Please.’
Derek looked torn, but eventually he nodded and dragged Basil into a fierce embrace. His stubbled chin brushed along Basil’s jaw as he smudged kisses all across his skin. Basil felt breath against his ear, a vibration under his fingers as Derek spoke something. Then he pulled back and repeated it in sign. ‘Thank you.’
Basil cupped his cheek and held him fast. There weren’t words to make this better, so he didn’t try to offer any.
Basil had finally drifted off,and Derek slipped from the bed as carefully as he could. He was torn in half, desperately craving touch and comfort from the man he was half-way in love with, and desperate to fall apart on his own because he hated when people saw him at his weakest. Most of the time he didn’t have a choice, but the way his father’s death was hitting him was like nothing else he’d experienced.
The anxiety was there—the crushing feeling like the world was spinning out of control and there was nothing he could do about it. But beyond that was an anger. An anger, because his father died before Derek could squeeze one last favor out of him. He died before Derek could force him to look both him and Sage in the eyes and acknowledge what he’d done. The man had left the world probably feeling like he’d had every right to torture his sons—that it had done some good for them.
And there was no way to change that now.
There was no way to drag that man back from the grave, from hell, and force him to face the messes he’d made during his fall from grace.
Derek made it to the living room, back pressed to the far wall next to the window, and he sank down. He let his face fall into his hands and his shoulders shook with dry sobs. His eyes were aching and raw, but no tears came. Derek had cried enough thanks to thatman, and he had nothing left to give. But the hollow feeling in his gut was eating at him and he just wanted it to stop.
He jolted when his phone began to buzz on the table, and he leapt for it before he remembered that Basil wouldn’t hear it anyway. He saw his brother’s name on the screen and debated ignoring it, but he wasn’t that cruel. He had to face this with Sage, regardless of whatever else he planned to do.
“Hey.”
Sage cleared his throat. “I just got off the phone with dad’s lawyer. He said there’s a lot to go over, but I…but he…”
Derek could hear what Sage wasn’t saying. “He left it all to you,” he said flatly.
“I don’t want it,” Sage said in a rush. “Fuck that old man, I don’t fucking want any of it.”
Derek let out a bitter laugh, letting his head fall back against the wall with a heavy thud. “I don’t care.”
“You took care of him,” Sage growled. “The last three years, when that stupid fuck was dying, you took care of him. You answered every call and didn’t say a word against the abuse he shouted at you, and you made sure he didn’t suffer. He fucking deserved to suffer, Derek, but you are a better person than I will ever be. I don’t want any of this.” Sage let out a tiny sob, and Derek swallowed back his own.
“I don’t want it either, you know,” he admitted, his voice raw and hoarse. “I don’t care that he left it to you. I wouldn’t touch it even if it would mean I wouldn’t have to use a single student loan ever again.”
