met him at a wreck, would you believe? He’s a paramedic. Tall blond,
sexy, eyes you can lose yourself in. We were going out for dinner when I got
back just to talk about moving in together.”
“Sounds…” Riley knew what
he wanted to say, but the words just weren’t coming together in any kind of
cohesive way.
“His name is Michael, a
good name, like Jack, right?”
“Mmph.”
“Riley? Stay with me.
Riley. Like Jack, right?”
“Jackson,” Riley said. That
was a fully formed word, and somehow the cotton wool in his brain moved enough
for him to focus on his husband.
“How did you meet him?”
Tom asked. “Tell me how you met your husband, Riley.”
Riley dealt with
irritation and pain that fought for dominance in his small capacity left to
think. Didn’t everyone know this story by now? Not the blackmail maybe, but
the murder and the secrets? Didn’t most of it already come out in People or on TMZ?
“Made ’im marry me,” Riley
admitted. Then he tried moving his head. The pain had lessened, and when he
opened his eyes, his vision was more focused. The room wasn’t as dark as he’d
thought; a thin sliver of light came through a window covered in bars and
beyond that black paint on the glass. He could see that. He could feel his head
in Tom’s lap, and the pain was receding.
“You made him marry you?
How the hell did you do that? From what I recall, Jack is the strong, silent,
not easily moved type.”
“Loved his sister,” Riley
said.
Tom chuckled. “You loved
his sister?”
“No, he did. My family… fucked
’is over, I made… it worse. Saw through my shit.”
Tom huffed a laugh, and
Riley found himself smiling in the half dark in agreement. “When they do that,
everything gets easier,” Tom offered. “And now you have children, a nanny, but
you don’t have any dogs.”
“What?”
“The usual scenario, the
nuclear family always has a dog, usually something dopey and hairy called Ben
or Smoke or something.”
“I like dogs,” Riley said.
The words were flowing a little easier now. “Dogs and horses… I never asked
Jack. I should… we used to have a dog, when I was a kid. My mom’s, this tiny
furry cairn terrier named Alfie. It loved my mom… I used to tease it when I was
small… but I know it loved me, found it in bed with me when I was ill once…”
“So when we get back, you
probably need to get a dog.”
“Max would love a dog. A
big one, maybe.” And Jack, he would probably love a dog as well once he got
used to it.
“I’ll back you up. I want
a dog, but I can’t see Michael going for it. He’s one of those men who likes
cats. Just weird if you ask me.”
Now it was Riley’s turn to
chuckle. Jack had a couple cats that roamed the ranch looking out for vermin.
They weren’t house cats, they didn’t come in for petting and love, but Riley
had caught Jack once holding one of the cats, a tabby, and talking to it about rat-to-feed
ratios.
“I… ask Jack… ’bout get… a
dog.” His words didn’t sound so good now.
“Can’t you just go out and
buy a dog?” Tom sounded curious.
“We decide things
together,” Riley said. “All of us.” And it worked. Him and Jack, Hayley and
Max, the twins. Even though the twins weren’t all that involved yet and Max had
his own unique perspective on life.
“So tell me more about
making Jack marry you.”
The story slipped out in
among moments when sleep threatened to pull him under. But Tom wouldn’t let him
sleep, and in the growing darkness in this room that smelled of dust and mold,
they stayed alive. Together.
When the earth moved and
an explosion rocked the ground they were lying on, Tom grasped him close and
swore succinctly. Was this the bad guys destroying where they were, or others
who would get them out of here? The movement hurt like a bitch as he dug his
feet into the ground. Nausea forced him to breathe.
Despite the pain, though,
all Riley could think was that somehow, one way or another,
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