“You think the world has changed,” he said. “And maybe it has, for you. Maybe for your generation, it’s easier. But for me? For men my age? The fear doesn’t just go away because the law’s changed. The trauma doesn’t disappear because society decided to be a little more tolerant.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes intense. “There are still people out there who think we’re sick. Who think we’re predators. Who think we deserve to die. And yeah, maybe they’re not the majority anymore. Maybe they’re not as loud. But they’re still there, Simon. And they’re still dangerous.”
“So you’re just going to hide forever?” I asked, my voice breaking. “You’re going to let them win?”
“I’m trying to survive,” Tony said. “I’m trying to protect what I’ve built. I’m trying to keep the life I’ve fought so fucking hard for.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Simon
I stared at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I was twenty-nine years old,” he said. “Working at a firm in Little Rock. Good firm, respectable clients, steady paycheck. I was building something. And then a case came across my desk. A man who’d been fired from his job for being gay. His employer found out, and they manufactured reasons to terminate him. It was discrimination, plain and simple.”
Tony’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I took the case. And I fucking won. And then there was another one. A couple who’d been denied housing because the landlord didn’t wantthose peoplein his building. Then a teacher who’d been forced out of his position because parents were afraid for their children. Afraid he would molest them because he was gay. I represented them all. I fought for them. Not because I was gay, because it was the right fucking thing to do.”
“Tony—”
“They fired me,” he said, and his voice cracked. “The firm fired me. Said I was bringing controversy, that I was damaging their reputation. I’d already joined the club by then. I was a member of a fucking outlaw motorcycle club, but somehow defending gay men was damaging their reputation. They said clients were uncomfortable with myagenda.And it didn’t stop there. They blackballed me. There wasn’t a single firm within fifty miles of Little Rock that would touch me. I couldn’t get hired anywhere. Not because I was gay, but because I was willing to stand up for people like us.”
He turned away from me, his shoulders rigid. “So I had to start over. From nothing. I worked my ass off to build my ownpractice. The club fronted me the money; they made it possible for me to become someone who could protect people who had no one else. Men and women like us, Simon. People who needed someone to fight for them when the system wanted to crush them.”
“Jesus, Tony,” I whispered.
“That’s why I do what I do,” he said, his voice raw. “That’s why I became the lawyer I am. Because I know what it’s like to be powerless. I know what it’s like to watch people suffer because of who they are. And I wanted to be the person who could stop that. Who could stand between them and the people who wanted to destroy them.”
He turned back to me, and his eyes were filled with pain. “But I can’t do that if I lose everything again. I can’t protect anyone if I’m ruined. If I come out, if I make myself visible, I risk losing the practice I built. The reputation I fought for. The ability to help the people who need me most.”
“So you’re trying to survive,” I said slowly, understanding dawning. “You’re trying to protect what you’ve built so you can keep protecting others.”
“Yes,” Tony said. “I’m trying to protect what I’ve fought so hard for. What cost me everything once already.”
“And what about me?” I demanded. “What about us? Don’t I deserve to be part of that life?”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” Tony said, his voice desperate. “You don’t understand what it would cost me to come out. The club—they might accept it, or they might not. My practice—I could lose clients, lose cases, lose my reputation. This town—they might tolerate you because you’re one of them, but me? I’m an outsider, Simon. I’m the biker lawyer from Arkansas. They’d crucify me.”
“You don’t know that,” I argued.
“Yes, I do,” Tony said. “Because I’ve seen it happen. I’ve watched it happen to men braver than me. And I can’t... I can’t do it, Simon. I can’t risk everything on the hope that maybe, just maybe, people will be kind.”
“So you’d rather keep me hidden,” I said bitterly. “You’d rather keep us hidden.”
“I’d rather keep us safe,” Tony corrected.
“Safe,” I repeated, then I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You think this is safe? You think what we’re doing is safe? We’re destroying each other, Tony. We’re killing each other slowly, and you want to call that safe?”
“I don’t know what else to do,” Tony said, and his voice was so raw, so broken, that it made my chest ache.
“You could try,” I said quietly. “You could at least try.”
“And if I fail?” Tony asked. “If I come out and lose everything? If the club turns on me, if my clients leave, if this town decides I’m not welcome here? What then, Simon? What do we do then?”
“We’d have each other,” I said.
“Would we?” Tony asked. “You’d leave Diamond Creek? Or would you resent me for dragging you down with me? Would you hate me for ruining your life?”
“You wouldn’t be ruining my life,” I said. “You’d be giving me one.”
