Every single word was like a physical blow, and it took Derek several minutes to regain his voice. “Why don’t I remember that at all?”
Sage laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I mean shit, we were like seven? Eight? And dad was already being an epic dick to you, so you had other shit to worry about. I mean, I wasn’t even supposed to see that conversation, it was an accident. But I know that place was hers. Whenever shit got bad, whenever she looked like she couldn’t take it anymore…”
“That’s where we’d go,” Derek finished quietly. “We stopped going that second year after she died.”
“I just think,” Sage said, touching the edge of the blurry, black and white photo printed next to the property assessment, “I think she’d want that for you.”
Derek looked up at him, a bitter laugh tumbling past his lips. “She never stepped in. Not once.”
Sage’s eyes fluttered closed. “Der…”
“No,” Derek said fiercely. “I’m not going to condemn her because she was probably getting it just as bad as we were—maybe worse. But she made me feel so alone. Like I wasn’t worth making that man just…just stop. Then she went and died, and I really was alone. You were the only one,” he stopped when his voice cracked, and he quickly took a drink to help regain his composure. “I don’t want that because of her.”
“So take it because of me. And you,” Sage said, and Derek narrowed his eyes in confusion. “We can remake that place as something else—take it back, make it something good again.” He rubbedhis hand over his mouth, then smiled a strange, almost sad smile. “I wanted to take Ted there, but I was too afraid to ask dad for the keys. But I have these memories of…of running through the woods and climbing trees and it was one of the few times in my childhood I felt unafraid. I just…I wanted to keep that.”
Derek felt a pang in his chest, almost physical pain, and he rubbed the heel of his palm up and down his sternum before looking back at his brother. “Okay,” he said. His voice was hoarse, but it was strong, and he meant it because he knew what Sage was saying. “Okay. The rest…”
“The rest we fucking get rid of. We help Sam and Maisy, and I’m going to start talking to someone else because I want to do something good with this. I don’t want to just dump it on some charity that’s going to pay their CEO a three million-dollar bonus and give us some bullshit tax write-off. I want to know kids like us have a place to go that isn’t some frigid warehouse with flea-infested blankets and cold poptarts every day for months.”
Derek smiled at him, reaching for his wrist, and he squeezed down hard. “Yeah. I’m with you, okay? We can fucking do this.”
Sage turned his hand over and squeezed back, and Derek knew he’d never really be alone.
Basil wokefrom his attempt to sleep off his migraine, a little confused by the unfamiliar smell and feel of the bedding wrapped around him. It took him a long second to remember where the hell he was and why, and then he became aware of the warm body that had woken him.
Derek was in the room, though he hadn’t bothered with lights or pushing back the curtains, instead curling up behind Basil with a firm hand around his waist. Basil could feel a tension in him, and he shifted, reaching for the little bedside lamp, letting the room fill with a soft glow. Turning around, his eyes met Derek’s and he sawthey were red-rimmed and swollen, though long-since dry of any tears he’d shed.
Not wanting to make Derek work to understand him, he simply lifted his hand to Derek’s cheek and held his palm against the flush-warm skin. ‘Hi,’ he mouthed.
Derek chuckled, his shoulders rising and falling with it under Basil’s other hand. ‘Hi,’ he mouthed back.
Basil leaned in and kissed him, slow and drawn out, trying to give him as much comfort and support without words as he could manage. Derek took every second of it, his fingers a little rough and desperate as they clung to Basil’s waist. But it didn’t go deeper, and Basil could feel with Derek’s hips pressed against him, his boyfriend wasn’t hard.
When he pulled back, he dragged his hand away from Derek’s face. ‘You ok?’
Derek shrugged, his body going slack with a deep sigh and he rolled onto his back. Basil propped up to look at him properly as Derek struggled through his signs. ‘The meeting was long.”
Basil reached out, rubbing his thumb gently over Derek’s wrist before pulling away. ‘Tell me.’
Derek sighed. ‘I’m slow, sorry. Frustrating.’
‘I don’t care,’ Basil insisted. ‘Please. I came here to help. Talk to me.’
Derek licked his lips, then pushed his hands down onto the mattress and propped himself up, scooting back to lean against the headboard. He crooked one knee up, dragged a hand down his face, then finally met Basil’s gaze again. ‘There’s a lot of money. Almost three million in cash,’ he spelled the number out, and Basil’s eyes went wide. His parents had left a sizable inheritance, mostly from their life insurance policy, but nothing like that. Not even close. ‘More in property. He left it all to Sage.’
At that, Basil felt himself make a noise—something of protest, maybe, or of sympathy. It got Derek’s full attention, and normally he would have been self-conscious, but not here. Not now. ‘I’m sorry.’
Derek shook his head firmly, his eyes going hard. ‘I don’t want it. Sage wants us to use it to create a charity to help people like us. Homeless teenagers. It’s the only good thing we could do with that man’s legacy.’
Basil felt the center of his chest go warm, and shit, he knew what that was. He might not have a lot of experience with love, but he was being bashed in the face with it. His fingers itched to form the sign, to place it against Derek’s softly beating heart because he deserved to know. But now was not the time.
‘He also left me a house,’ Derek carried on. His eyes closed a minute, like he was absorbing pain, or maybe old memories. ‘Remember that cottage by the lake I told you about? From my paintings?’
‘Yes,’ Basil replied.
‘He left that to me. I don’t know why, but Sage thinks we should keep it. Make it ours again. Make it something good.’
‘Is that what you want?’ Basil asked.
