Chapter Seventeen
May 2009—One year after
“Hey, Jesse.”
Jesse swung around to see Trevor sitting a few feet away, his hands folded together on top of the bar.
“Hey.” Jesse walked over and leaned his hip against the counter, looking down at him solemnly. “I had a feeling I’d see you tonight.”
“Any chance you can get out of here?” Trevor asked, a relieved expression flitting over his face when Jesse said, “Absolutely. I told my manager I might have to duck out early today. Be right back.”
Jesse headed to the manager’s office to square things away with Karen, easily the coolest boss on the face of the earth.
“He’s here,” he told her, and she nodded.
“Go ahead and take off, then.”
Jesse thanked her and she added, “I do have you on the schedule for tomorrow evening, but if you can’t make it, just call me in the morning, okay?”
“Will do. You’re the best, K.”
Jesse grabbed his keys and wallet out of his locker and headed back to Jelly’s main restaurant area, seeing Trevor hovering by the door. Taking a deep breath, Jesse headed to join him, noticing that Trevor had a red day pack slung over his shoulder.
“I was thinking, could we maybe go back to that trail?” Trevor asked tentatively, glancing down at Jesse’s work jeans and black sneakers. “We can stop by your apartment first.”
“Nah, I’ve got some gym clothes with me.”
Trevor followed Jesse to his truck and climbed into the passenger seat. They drove north in silence, and it was near dusk when Jesse parked in the same dirt lot as last time. Nobody else was around, and Jesse leaned over to grab his duffel from behind his seat before getting out of the truck and yanking his Jelly’s T-shirt over his head.
“Brrr.” It wasn’t super cold, but the late-spring chill pebbled his nipples and caused goose bumps to spring up on his arms, and he quickly pulled his sweatshirt on. He skimmed his jeans off next, wadding them up and tossing them in the back before stepping into a pair of track pants.
As he re-tied his sneakers, he caught a glimpse of Trevor staring straight ahead, his fingers clenched tightly on the red pack.
“You have a flashlight?” he asked, and Trevor jumped, like he’d been completely lost in thought.
“Yeah, and plenty of water. Some for you, too.”
Jesse pulled his own day pack out from behind Trevor’s seat and checked over the contents. “Okay, I’m ready.”
They headed out, Jesse taking the lead, and the pinkish glow in the sky faded, darkness settling over them. The moon was bright enough to see the trail, so Jesse didn’t bother with his flashlight. As he walked he breathed deeply, searching for calm, reminding himself over and over that he was at home in Colorado and not on night patrol in hostile territory.
The trees are different. The sky is different, light pollution from the city instead of a million stars. No monkeys.
Jesse kept cataloging the ways the two forests didn’t compare, and the surge of initial adrenaline finally receded into something more manageable. He could hear Trevor walking behind him, his footsteps loud as he scuffed along, kicking rocks and pebbles to skitter off into the underbrush. The lack of noise discipline made Jesse grit his teeth, and he couldn’t help but scan the treetops, looking for threats.
“You okay?” Trevor’s voice was slightly breathless from exertion, a little bit husky, and Jesse jerked his attention away from potential ambush spots and focused on the trail ahead.
“Yeah,” he replied, striving to keep his voice even. “I’m fine.”
Jesse wanted to keep talking, wanted to find a topic of conversation that would distract him from his anxiety, but he was one hundred percent here for Trevor tonight, and he was determined to let Trevor set the tone.
It seemed like forever until they reached the overlook spot, and Jesse was drenched in a nervous sweat despite the coolness of the night. When Trevor dug a water bottle from his pack and held it out to him, Jesse winced at how his hand shook as he reached to take it, praying Trevor didn’t notice.
They sank down to sit on the rock bench, and Trevor let out a small groan. “It gets a little easier every time, thank God, but I still feel it the next day.”
Jesse swished a little bit of water around his mouth, leaning to the side to spit it out. “How many times have you been up here this month?”
“Three,” Trevor admitted. He waved his hand at the vista below, the twinkling lights of the city, the red-and-white streaks from the cars on the interstate. “I can only imagine how much he loved this view.”
Jesse swallowed his next mouthful of water. “He did. He told me more than once how relieved he was to be stationed back in his home state after boot camp. Not everyone is that lucky.”
They fell silent and gazed out over the vista, the wind shushing quietly in the trees behind them, a few insects chirping. At last Trevor sighed. “In a lot of ways you know him better than I ever will.”
“Trevor—”
“It’s true. You saw a side of him I can’t imagine he would’ve ever let me see.”
I can’t relate to that, and he can’t relate to this.
Jesse winced, thinking of Riley’s words to him that night in their hooch. “All I know is that your son loved you. So much. He talked about you all the time, and I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass. He respected and admired you.” He paused. “You raised him to be a good man, an honorable one. I know it’s not much comfort.”
“It is.” Trevor looked at him, his voice suddenly a little stronger. “It’s a lot of comfort, Jesse. More than you know.” He dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. “I bet he thought all the wedding stuff was stupid, though.”
Jesse was startled into a laugh, deciding to be honest. “Yeah, he did,” he admitted. “He wasn’t looking forward to wearing a top hat and tails, I can tell you that. Said he’d feel like a fuckin’ penguin.”
Trevor gave a watery snort. “Oh, boy. I can picture him saying that, too, clear as day. But the thing is, I know he would’ve done it, with a smile on his face, never letting on how ridiculous he thought it was.”
“He said if it made you happy, that’s all that mattered.”
When Trevor looked at him again, the flash of mischievousness in his eyes reminded Jesse so much of Riley that he caught his breath.
“If I tell you I thought it was stupid, too, would you judge me?”
Jesse burst into laughter. “Never! When Riley would tell me about it, I used to think, ‘To each his own, man. To each his own.’”
“Good ol’ Carl.”
Jesse hesitated. “You, uh, hanging in there, as far as that goes?”
He’d called Trevor to check on him that morning after the zoo, and God, he’d wanted to find that fucker Carl and punch his lights out at the sound of the quiet pain washing through Trevor’s voice. “He left me, Jesse. It’s for the best.”
“Yeah, I am,” Trevor said, breaking into Jesse’s vengeful thoughts. “Actually, he came and picked up the rest of his stuff this morning.”
“Today?” Jesse clenched his fists all over again. “What the fuck?”
“I doubt it even occurred to him what today is, Jesse. It was convenient for him to come by, so he did.”
“Jesus. I’d love to throw that dude a fuckin’ blanket party, I really would.”
Trevor’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
“A blanket party? Well, it’s just like it sounds. You throw a blanket over someone’s head and a bunch of people gather round to beat the shit out of him.”
Trevor choked. “Oh my God,” he wheezed. “Have you ever had that done to you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jesse stood up, lacing his fingers behind his neck. “In boot camp. During a live fire exercise I had an AD, and I almost shot off a sergeant’s foot.”
“An... AD?” Trevor asked, his tone one of fascination.
“Accidental discharge. Of my firearm,” he clarified when Trevor’s mouth dropped open. “Basically, I didn’t have the safety on and my gun went off. Stitched the ground right next to this dude’s foot. Because of it the whole squad had to run an extra five miles before rack time, and everyone was fuckin’ pissed. So that night after I fell asleep, all of a sudden this thick woolen blanket was thrown over my head and held down.”
Jesse closed his eyes, and pantomimed flailing around. “Guys were hitting me with socks filled with bath soap. I couldn’t see for shit, couldn’t see where the blows were coming from, or who was doing it.”
“That’s barbaric,” Trevor said indignantly.
Jesse sat back down. “Nah. It’s discipline. The powers that be let us self-police with shit like that. Believe me, I never accidentally discharged my gun again.” He shuddered. “I could’ve killed that guy, or shot his legs up and ruined his career. The least I could do was take a few bruises for that.”
“Wow.” Trevor shook his head wonderingly. “Well, Carl doesn’t deserve a blanket party.”
Jesse gave a disgusted snort. “The hell he doesn’t.”
“He didn’t sign on for this, Jesse.”
“What, so I guess ‘for better or worse’ doesn’t apply to him, huh?” Jesse snapped, then subsided. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re entitled to your opinion.” Trevor leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I think the night of the dinner party it finally hit him I wasn’t ever going to be the same guy he fell in love with, and one year wasn’t the magic number for me to ‘get over it.’ Our relationship became secondary to my grief, Jesse, and he deserves more than that.”
Jesse leaned forward, too, mirroring Trevor’s pose. “Well, I’d still like to rough him up just for showing up today of all days. You didn’t need that.”
Trevor was silent for a moment, his face pale in the light of the moon. He heaved a quiet sigh. “One year ago today. I—” He blinked rapidly, and Jesse scooted a little closer to him.
“It’s okay, Trevor. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Trevor turned to stare at him, his eyes stark. “You were there for Riley, too, weren’t you? The day he died.”
Jesse’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled for the words. How do you talk to a grieving father about watching his son die? God help me.
Before he could say anything, Trevor shook his head. “No. I wanted tonight to be about his life, not his death.” He slipped his hand in his pocket to bring out a smooth stone.
“What’s that?” Jesse asked, his voice gentle.
Trevor rubbed the stone with his thumb. “I took Riley to California once over his summer break. We spent two weeks there, doing Disneyland, San Diego, everything.” He opened his palm, letting Jesse see the rock, which looked like an ordinary gray stone found on any beach. “He found this in one of the tide pools on Coronado Island, and insisted I keep it. I don’t know why, I think it’s because of how perfectly smooth it is.”
He held it out, and Jesse ran his fingertips over the satiny surface, feeling its residual warmth from being in Trevor’s hand.
“I stuck it in my jacket pocket and forgot about it, and then when we got home and I realized I still had it, I put it on a bookshelf in the living room and never thought of it again. Today when Carl came to get his stuff, I was checking over the bookshelf to make sure he hadn’t put anything there, and I saw it.” Trevor closed his hand around the stone. “I carried it around all day today, thinking of our trip, how much fun we had, how much I miss him.”
Trevor pulled away from Jesse and stood, picking his way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the city spread out below. Jesse got up and followed him, hovering close.
“I went into my office, searching for a place to put it so I could look at it always.” Trevor clenched his hand so tight his knuckles turned white. “Riley didn’t care about this rock, Jesse. It’s pretty, and smooth, and it caught his attention for like thirty seconds. I didn’t care about it. If I’d found it in my pocket before we got home from California, I would’ve tossed it out. Instead, I stuck it on a bookshelf and didn’t think about the stupid thing for years, and now here I was trying to turn it into some great memento.”
“Trevor—”
“I remembered something we talked about in that grief group I went to, about making a tangible expression of letting go. Not of the person so much, but of an idea of them, something that’s maybe holding us back. What’s hard for me are the might-have-beens, all the dreams, the hopes. The adult friendship I wanted us to have.”
He let out a shaky breath.
“Riley wasn’t even supposed to be mine, but yet there he was, a wonderful, temporary gift I was given. My plan was to die first, an old man surrounded by my son and his family. My family. Now it’s just me, and all those fucking might-have-beens.” Trevor’s voice was anguished, but his eyes were dry. “I have to let those go, Jesse. I have to, or I’m not going to survive this.”
He held the rock out again, flipping it over, and before Jesse could say anything, Trevor drew his arm back and flung it with all his strength over the cliff, stumbling a little with the forward momentum.
With a muffled exclamation, Jesse grabbed the back of Trevor’s jacket to keep him from falling, and Trevor wrenched away, staring out into the darkness.
“I’m going to sell the house.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jesse put his hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Sell it for you, or because Carl said you should?” he asked gently.
“For me. It’s time. At first I didn’t want to because of the memories, but now I have to because of the memories. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, it does,” Jesse said, “but Jesus, Trevor, you don’t need to make all these decisions tonight. Come here.”
He led Trevor back over to their rock bench and knelt to rummage in his pack. “In Afghanistan, the tradition is to shoot flares off on the one-year anniversary of someone—of losing someone.” He pulled a small box out of a zippered pocket and held it up. “Obviously we can’t shoot off flares around here, but I thought maybe we could light these for Riley tonight.”
Trevor stared at him before reaching out to take the box from him. “Sparklers?” he said wonderingly. “You bought sparklers?”
“Yeah. I brought a lighter, too.” Jesse brandished it. “Hey, if you don’t want to, that’s—”
“No, it’s perfect. Riley loved these things on the Fourth of July.” Trevor took one out. “Here, light me.”
It took a few tries, but soon Trevor’s sparkler was burning, the little stick spitting and glowing bright in the dark night.
Jesse lit his off of Trevor’s, holding it away from himself, watching the shower of sparks. “God, I haven’t done these since I was a kid.”
“You can write in the air with them, remember?” Trevor made a curlicue motion, leaving behind a spiral of light that dissipated a split second later.
Jesse tried it, and soon they were laughing, trying to top each other’s skywriting artwork, running through the box of sparklers until they were down to the last few.
Finally Trevor sank down on the stone bench, holding his aloft and looking up at the sky. “I miss you, Riley James. I love you.”
Jesse hoisted his sparkler up, too. “Miss you, Riles.”
“What’s your favorite memory of him, Jesse?” Trevor asked, staring at the hypnotic shower of sparks he held, waving it idly as it burned out.
Jesse fished another sparkler from the box and lit it from the dregs of his, handing it to Trevor and getting one for himself. Only a couple left now. He thought for a moment, aware of Trevor looking at him expectantly, and his heart started to pound as a particular memory surged to the forefront of his mind.
“My favorite memory?” Jesse took a deep breath, almost light-headed. “Uh...”
Was he really gonna do this, say the words that would change everything?
He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat several times in rapid succession, his fingers clenched in a death grip on the sparkler.
Trevor looked mystified as he fished out a bottle of water and handed it over. “What is it?” he asked cautiously. “What’d he do?”
“Nothing,” Jesse forced out, draining the bottle with a couple of huge gulps. “He didn’t do anything. It’s—” He took one more deep breath. “It’s just that my favorite memory is the time we were sitting on a beach, drinking beer, and Riley gave me the courage to come out to him.”
An almost comical look of disbelief flitted across Trevor’s face. “Say again? I don’t think I heard you.”
“My—” Oh, God. “My favorite memory is the one where I came out to him, Trevor. He’d already guessed, but that day he gave me the courage to actually acknowledge it out loud.”
Trevor stared at him for a moment, then blinked. “Wow.”
“He was the only one who knew, and the only one I trusted.” Jesse watched his sparkler fizzle out, and with a trembling hand he set the blackened wire stick down carefully with the others collected on the bench next to him. “Considering my job, and the fact I’d be kicked out of the Army if the wrong people found out, well, him knowing was a little bit of safety and sanity for me. I wasn’t so alone anymore. That’s what I meant when I said Riley was there for me in ways no one ever was, even my parents.”
“Oh, Jesse.” Trevor’s voice was hushed. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just be proud of your son.” He paused, emotion clogging his throat again. “The truth is I have a lot of favorite memories of him, and I could’ve told you something light and funny, ’cause there’re tons of those.” Jesse shook his head. “Jesus Christ, he could be a fuckin’ goof.”
Trevor just looked at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears, waiting for him to finish.
“But what he did that day will have a lasting effect, a positive effect, on my life and I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thank you, Jesse.” Trevor reached out and touched Jesse’s leg. “Thank you. These little glimpses you keep giving me of the man he was helps me more than anything else. I just want you to know that.”
“I do know, and I’m so glad. It’s what he would want.”
Jesse pulled the last two sparklers out of the box and lit them, handing one to Trevor. They sat in silence, watching them burn brightly but much too briefly. As each sparkler finally guttered out, Jesse couldn’t help but think how symbolic it all was, of a shining life over way too soon.
At last they stood and shouldered their packs. As they walked away, first Trevor, then Jesse, turned to look back at the bench, and the cliff, and somehow Jesse knew neither one of them would ever return to this place.
It was a fitting goodbye.
* * *
Jesse ran by the restaurant to drop Trevor off at his car.
“You gonna be okay? I’ll come hang out with you if you don’t want to be alone.”
Trevor shook his head. “I’ll be all right.” He got out of the truck and Jesse followed, walking him over to where he was parked. Trevor turned to him. “Thank you. You got me through a very difficult few hours, and you made me laugh, and let me remember him the way I wanted to. Thank you for being such a good friend to me...and to him.”
“You’re welcome,” Jesse said hoarsely, and before he knew it, Trevor was in his arms. They hugged each other tightly, and at last Trevor pulled away and clicked his car open.
“Call me if you need me,” Jesse said, and Trevor looked back at him.
“Same goes. If you need anything, Jesse, I’m here.” Trevor paused. “What you told me tonight, about yourself, well, thank you for trusting me. I know how big a deal that is.”
Jesse’s lips trembled for just the tiniest instant before he firmed them. “It felt good to share it with someone else I trust.”
“I’m honored. Truly.”
He got into his car with a wave, and Jesse watched until his taillights disappeared around the corner, then headed for home himself. Just as he pulled into his parking space, his phone rang. Jesse grabbed it up and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Byrney?” The voice on the other end of the line was slurred, ragged.
“Who—”
“I killed him, Byrney.” There was a muffled sob. “I killed him.”
“Oh, Watty.”
Jesse rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment, then got out of his truck and wandered in the direction of his apartment complex’s playground. It was full dark, no one around, so he sank down onto a bench next to the jungle gym.
“You didn’t kill him, Watty,” he said softly, nausea surging into his throat as the sound of gunshots echoed in his mind, that sickening snap... “The bullet did.”
“But I threw the lighter, and if he hadn’t gone for it, he wouldn’t have been standing right there. Why didn’t I jus’ hand him the fuckin’ lighter instead of throwin’ it? I fuckin’ killed him!”
Watkins wept, hoarse sobs tearing from his chest.
“Watty.” Jesse clenched his hand so tightly on his phone it was a wonder he didn’t crack it. “Come on, man. You know that’s not true. We’d never been sniped from that ridge before. No one expected it or saw it coming. It’s not your fault.”
Watkins continued to cry, and when he subsided into hiccups, Jesse asked, “Do you want me to come over?”
“Yeah, come over, Byrney. Please?”
“Be right there.” Jesse hesitated. “Put the beer away, Evan. No more, okay?”
“’Kay,” Watkins mumbled. “No more beer. Jus’ come over.”
With a ragged sigh, Jesse hung up and headed back to his truck.
* * *
The next morning Trevor stood in front of Jesse’s apartment, juggling a drink carrier with two cups of coffee and a bag of sesame bagels. He knocked once and, receiving no answer, knocked again louder. At last he heard the shuffling of footsteps inside and the click of the dead bolt just before the door swung open.
Jesse stood there peering at him, blond hair sticking up at crazy angles, his blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion.
“Oh, shit, I woke you,” Trevor said contritely. “I didn’t think it was too early, but I should’ve called first.”
Jesse scratched his bare chest and stood back to let Trevor in. “No, it’s okay,” he said huskily. “Just had a late night.”
Trevor froze a few steps into the apartment. “Do you have company?” he asked in horror. “Jesus, I’m sorry—”
Jesse shook his head, cutting him off. “Sat up all night with a friend in crisis,” he said, shutting the front door and leading the way to the kitchen. “Is that coffee you have? If it is, all’s forgiven.”
Trevor handed him a cup. “Indeed. Cream and sugar’s in the bag.”
He waited until Jesse doctored his coffee and took several sips before saying, “I’m really sorry to wake you. I wanted to ask you something, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone. Plus, you’ve driven out to my place so often, I—”
“What’s on your mind, Trevor?” Jesse interrupted gently. “It’s okay. You can call, or come over, anytime you want. Seriously.”
“You’re way too nice to me. Seriously.”
They smiled at each other over their coffee cups, and Trevor asked, “Is your friend all right?”
Jesse’s smile faltered, and he looked down. “Not really, no. He’s a combat vet, and he’s drinking too much, getting in fights with his wife.”
“PTSD?”
“More like a shit-ton of survivor’s guilt. Counseling hasn’t helped, and I just don’t know what else...” He shook his head, the expression on his face indicating the discussion was closed.
Trevor took the hint and dropped it, letting Jesse finish his coffee and half his bagel, relieved when Jesse declared he felt much more human. Trevor got up to throw their trash away, his attention suddenly caught by the tattoo on Jesse’s bicep. He stopped next to him, unable to keep from reaching out to run his fingertips over it.
“What’s this mean?” he asked. “It’s really pretty.”
The tattoo was a stark black against Jesse’s golden brown skin, a design of three cursive letters intertwined but distinct: an E, an M and a P.
“Estes, Miller and Patterson,” Jesse whispered.
Trevor caught his breath. “Three?” His fingers trembled as he traced the E over and over. “Three friends?”
“Three brothers-in-arms,” Jesse clarified softly, his pulse beating wildly in the hollow of his throat. “2008 was a rough year.” Goose bumps pebbled his skin, and Trevor reluctantly pulled his hand away, not before pressing his palm briefly over the E one more time.
“I’m sorry.” Trevor hovered there another moment, wanting to ask Jesse what happened to them, to all three of them, but once again the timing didn’t feel right. With a last pat to Jesse’s bare shoulder, Trevor went to the trash can in the corner and dumped everything inside.
When he turned around, Jesse was fishing a T-shirt out of the dryer in his minuscule laundry room, pulling it on over his head.
“What, uh, did you want to talk to me about?” Jesse asked, his voice a little rough. He led the way to the living room, throwing himself down in the leather recliner and draping one leg over the arm.
Trevor followed suit, sprawling out on the couch opposite him with a sigh. “It’s nothing big, really. I didn’t sleep a whole lot last night myself, and I started thinking about what you said, you know, about coming out to Riley on the beach.”
Jesse nodded, his head tilted back, eyes closed, and Trevor was relieved to see that his face looked open, relaxed.
“If you came out to him so long ago, it kind of bothers me he reacted so harshly toward you the night of the party. It doesn’t seem like him, and I’m wondering if he ever said why...”
Trevor’s voice trailed off when Jesse snapped his eyes open. “Trevor, I came out to him only like a month before he died.”
“What?”
“He had his suspicions the night of the party, but he was so pissed and wanting to defend you that he didn’t think about giving me the benefit of the doubt. He just went off.”
Trevor blinked a few times, processing that. “There are beaches in Afghanistan?”
Jesse gaped at him. “What? No. We were in Hawaii. On mid-tour leave.”
At those words, all the air left Trevor’s lungs in a sudden whoosh, light-headedness sweeping over him.
“Trevor?” Jesse lunged from his chair and flew over to sit next to Trevor on the couch. “Breathe,” he urged him. “Breathe.”
Bile welled up in Trevor’s throat and he choked on it, feeling Jesse’s hand squeezing the back of his neck. “Oh, God, what’s wrong?” Jesse asked frantically, peering at him. “Talk to me!”
Trevor struggled for air. “Mid-tour leave? Riley came home on leave and didn’t come to see me?” He wrapped his arms around his middle and doubled over. “He didn’t want to see me?”
“Oh, God, he never told you about it?” Jesse knelt at Trevor’s feet. “That’s not what happened! Listen to me.”
Trevor forced himself to focus on Jesse’s face.
“It’s not like that, Trev, I promise. He was planning to come home, but when we got notice of our leave slot, he realized it was the same time you’d be in Boston. He got an email—”
“Boston?” Trevor’s voice didn’t sound like his own. “Boston? Why didn’t he tell me? I would’ve canceled the trip. I would’ve wanted to see him!”
“You were already there when we found out. You’d just left,” Jesse said gently. “He didn’t want to ruin your trip.”
“Ruin my trip?” The pain roaring through Trevor threatened to eviscerate him where he sat, that pain followed by a rush of anger so intense that he found himself shouting, “Ruin my fucking trip? Goddammit, Riley!”
Startled, Jesse fell back on his ass, his eyes wide.
“Goddammit! How could he not realize that I wanted—I needed—to see him! Oh, Jesus. If only I’d gotten to see him one more time.”
He fought back the tears, grief and anger burning their way through him, his hands clenching into fists. Jesse was staring up at him from where he was sprawled on the floor, his face twisted in anguish.
“I was planning to take him to Hawaii when he got home,” Trevor raged. “Me! That was supposed to be our trip.”
“No!” Jesse gave a muffled exclamation as he got to his knees. “Don’t blame Riley, Hawaii was my idea. I tried to encourage him to surprise you in Boston. I didn’t know—”
Trevor could see him trembling, and instantly shame surged through him, shame for making Jesse the target of his shock and pain.
“It’s not your fault,” he forced out. “It’s not your fault.”
Jesse shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I should’ve tried harder to get him—”
At that Trevor reached out to pat Jesse’s cheeks, willing him to look at him. “You didn’t know about our plans,” he said, softening his tone. “It’s not your fault.”
Jesse opened his eyes, and Trevor let his hands fall away as he slumped back into the couch, heaving a ragged sigh.
After another moment, Jesse stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. Trevor lifted the hem of his T-shirt and wiped his eyes with it. When Jesse returned, he was holding something that looked like a picture frame. He sat down next to Trevor and, after a brief hesitation, handed it to him.
Trevor turned it over and caught his breath. It was a photo of Jesse and Riley standing on a beach side by side, grinning, both of them flashing the “hang loose” sign. The ocean was a gorgeous blue behind them, the sunset a brilliant tapestry of pinks and purples. Tiki torches stuck in the sand burned brightly along the periphery.
“We were at some stupid luau. I’d just been pulled onstage to dance the hula.”
Trevor looked at the picture, at his son’s mirth-filled eyes, his grin, and all his jealousy and anger immediately melted away.
“He looks so happy.”
“We had so much fun that trip. So much fun.”
“I’m glad,” Trevor said, and meant it. “I’m glad he had that time with you, and that he died with those happy memories still fresh in his mind.” He grimaced. “Hanging out with a couple of old dudes in Boston wouldn’t have compared, I guess.”
Jesse’s eyes were soft with compassion. “He wanted to see you, please believe that. He just didn’t want to come between you and Carl so close to the wedding, make you choose between them.”
Trevor thought about that, how in his mind there was no choice to make and how that might have negatively impacted his and Carl’s relationship. It was just like Riley to take all that into consideration, and act accordingly. He certainly hadn’t planned on being killed a few short weeks later...
“I get it.” Trevor scrubbed his hands over his face. “He was just a kid. A kid who’d been to war. Who am I to second-guess any of his choices? Of course when he got a chance to have some fun, he’d take it.” Looking at Jesse ruefully, he said, “I’m sorry. Once again I’ve managed to make myself into an emotional nightmare. I swear I didn’t come over for that, and if you want me to fuck off, I will.”
“Nope, no need to fuck off.” With a shake of his head, Jesse sank back down in his recliner and put the footrest up. “Although I may fall asleep on you.”
“Do it.”
Trevor stretched out on Jesse’s couch himself, getting comfortable and peering more closely at the picture. In it Riley and Jesse were both wearing khaki shorts topped with loud Hawaiian shirts, which hung open to the waist. They had flower leis around their necks, along with a myriad of cheap-looking shell necklaces. Jesse had a pair of sunglasses shoved to the top of his head, while Riley’s were hanging from one of the necklaces.
Trevor traced his fingers wistfully over his son, cataloging the differences. He looked older, his face more angular than Trevor remembered, every trace of baby fat long since melted away. His body was whipcord lean, and he sported a rakish five o’clock shadow, his green eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at the camera.
“He looks so much like you, Larissa,” Trevor whispered. “So much like you.”
He rarely spared Riley’s mother a thought anymore, although he’d flirted with the idea of trying to contact her when Riley died, just as swiftly dismissing it. To Trevor’s knowledge she hadn’t once attempted to find them after driving away with her boyfriend so long ago, and Trevor had her parental rights severed at the earliest opportunity, feeling nothing but relief.
God, you missed out, Liss.
He could almost hear her reply. But at least I’m not suffering the way you are now, am I?
But I’d do it all again, Larissa. In a heartbeat. I got to have him for twenty years and don’t regret one single minute of it.
Trevor stared at the picture, ashamed of his outburst of selfishness a few moments ago, and fiercely glad Riley’d gotten to experience something so amazing before he died.
The recliner creaked as Jesse shifted, and he let out a soft snore. Trevor glanced over at him, smiling at his slack mouth, the way his head lolled to the side—wow, he was out cold. He picked up the photo again, this time focusing on Jesse. Taller than Riley by a few inches, his shoulders were broader, tapering down into a trim waist and narrow hips. The khaki shorts rode low, so low the waistband of Jesse’s underwear peeked out over the top.
The Hawaiian shirt he was wearing had slid off one shoulder, revealing a muscled chest and a firm brown nipple, along with a light dusting of blond hair on his pecs. Trevor swallowed hard, glancing over at Jesse racked out on his chair. One arm was thrown over his head, his T-shirt riding up to reveal that dark blond treasure trail that drew the eyes down to—
Jesus. Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no question Jesse was an absolutely beautiful man, but Trevor shouldn’t be ogling him in his sleep like some old pervert...
Feeling restless, he got up and wandered around the small living room, renewed curiosity about Jesse’s life surging through him. Unfortunately there wasn’t a whole lot in the way of personal items displayed, except for one small framed photograph tucked up high on a bookshelf. Glancing at Jesse, Trevor reached for it and pulled it down for a closer look.
It was a family picture, obviously taken in a studio, old-school style—sideways, all in a row, with the man in back, his wife in front of him and their child in front of her. Jesse looked to be maybe ten, his hair a cap of shining blond, his cheeks plump with baby fat.
His parents were quite a bit older than Trevor would’ve expected, and he winced, thinking about Jesse losing them both at such a young age. No wonder he was so sensitive to Trevor’s grief, every action displaying that innate understanding and accompanied by a deep well of patience that Trevor suspected was just a natural part of him.
Jesse stirred again, interrupting Trevor’s thoughts. Trevor put the picture away and grabbed a blanket folded along the back of the couch before tiptoeing over to drape it across Jesse carefully.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered to him. “I’m so glad Riley had you for a friend.”
Trevor went back to the sofa to stretch out on his side, and he lay there watching Jesse sleep.
* * *
Jesse noticed the crick in his neck first, and he sat up with a groan, completely disoriented for a moment until he caught sight of Trevor opposite him on the couch. Memory rushed back, of Jesse’s blunder and Trevor’s soul-deep pain, his own helplessness and confusion in the face of it.
Jesus, Riley, I thought you’d have told him about Hawaii!
Why the fuck hadn’t he? Was it because he’d known his dad would be hurt and upset about his choice to vacation with Jesse instead of making the effort to come see him? Jesse grimaced, remembering how hard Riley’d tried to rationalize his decision to him there at Bagram. Despite his otherwise impressive emotional maturity, in the end he’d acted like a typical young man with his eye on a good time, probably figuring he’d be able to smooth everything over with his dad once he was home for good. How could he have known...?
Jesse pushed to his feet, trying not to make any noise as his back protested the lumpy chair it’d been subjected to for—he caught sight of the clock on the stove—four hours? Ugh. He felt groggy, out of sorts, and definitely not in the mood to work this afternoon. Besides, he didn’t want to summarily kick Trevor out if he needed him.
He found his phone on the kitchen island and sent Karen a quick text, asking if she could let him off the hook that night.
No problem, she fired back, and Jesse sighed in relief, giving thanks once again for having such a great boss. Karen lost her only brother, a Marine, in the Battle of Ramadi a few years ago, so she more than anyone understood Jesse’s need to manage his own grief and guilt by being there for Trevor.
Jesse tiptoed over to where Trevor slept on the couch, his cheek pillowed on his hands, and knelt down next to him. In sleep his face was smoothed out, relaxed, without the pinched, haggard look Jesse was used to seeing. It made him seem younger, and Jesse tried to remember how old Riley said he was.
My dad was eighteen when he had me.
So that would make Trevor, what, thirty-nine? Not that old after all.
You’re alone in the world, too, aren’t you?
A wave of sadness swept over him, and he wondered why the universe had been so cruel as to take Riley from Trevor when he’d already lost so much.
It should’ve been me...
The insidious thought crept in again, and Jesse ruthlessly shoved it away, determined not to go down that dead-end road. His phone buzzed in his hand, startling him, and he jumped to his feet, hurrying out to his minuscule balcony to answer it so he wouldn’t wake Trevor.
“Hello?”
“Byrney?”
“Yeah, Watty.” Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose. This was all he needed right now. “How you doin’ this morning, man?”
Watkins groaned. “Not so good. I been pukin’ my guts out, and Sami is fuckin’ pissed at me. Again.”
“Don’t blame her,” Jesse said bluntly. “You were a mess last night, dude. Do you even remember me coming over?”
“Yeah.” Watkins took a shuddering breath. “I din’t mean to get so wasted, all’s I wanted to do was have a cold one for Estes. Then I started thinking of him, of what happened, and I couldn’t stop.”
“I know.” Jesse kept his voice gentle. “Yesterday was rough.” He hesitated. “Watty, I think you should call the VA, start going to counseling again. You need help.”
Watkins gave a snort. “Talkin’ to you helps me way more than anyone at that fuckin’ place. I don’t need them.”
“But I’m not trained to talk to you about this,” Jesse said helplessly. “You need professional help.”
“You understand me,” Watkins insisted. “You were fuckin’ there. You saw me—” He gave a sob. “You saw what I did, and you don’t blame me, do you, Byrney? Do you think I killed him?”
A deep weariness settled over him. “Evan, listen to me. You didn’t kill him. The fuckin’ bullet killed him, the insurgent who fired the fuckin’ gun at him killed him. It wasn’t your fault, man. No one saw it coming. No one suspected—”
He said the words he’d already said to him a million times, and he’d keep on saying them until Evan either believed them, or he agreed to go get some professional help. The drinking worried Jesse, but short of manhandling him over to the VA and the counselors there, he didn’t know what else he could do.
Through the sliding glass doors he could see Trevor sit up on the couch, arching his back in a stretch and scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Hey, brother, is Sami there? Can I talk to her?” He waited while Watkins handed the phone to his wife, heard her subdued hello. “If you can get him to agree to go to the VA, I’ll pick him up and go with him.”
“I’ll try, Jesse.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m not sure how much more I can take. The kids—”
Jesse’s heart ached. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was more I could do.”
“You’ve done so much,” she reassured him. “But Evan’s not your responsibility, and if he won’t get help, that’s on him. He’ll have to live with the consequences.” Her voice was firm, that of someone at the end of their rope.
He encouraged her to call him if she needed him, and she promised she would before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Jesse headed inside, amused at the sight of Trevor making himself at home by brewing some coffee. His brown hair was flattened on one side, sticking up on the other, and he had a red crease in his cheek from where it’d been pressing against his hand.
Trevor was wearing an old pair of jeans that hung loosely on his thin frame, and a T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hands were long-fingered and graceful, and Jesse noticed with a jolt that he was wearing Riley’s watch, the oversize face almost swallowing his slender wrist.
The memory of Trevor stroking his tattoo a few hours ago sent another wave of inappropriate desire surging through him, and Jesse gulped. Jesus, get a grip! I’m his son’s friend! He won’t ever see me as anything but a kid.
And why should he? Besides Trevor being older, and way more experienced, he was dealing with a ton of emotional baggage, not the least of which, his recent breakup with the man he’d intended to marry, for fuck’s sake.
Get a grip, asshole. Seriously. He’s way out of your league and the last thing he needs is some stupid kid mooning over him. What he needs is a friend.
Taking a deep breath, Jesse called out, “Hey, make enough coffee for me?”
Trevor turned with a smile. “Of course.”
Jesse sat down at the island quickly, cursing his traitorous cock, which swelled in response to the warmth in Trevor’s gray eyes. God, he’s beautiful.
As Trevor brought him his cup, he patted Jesse’s shoulder absently, the impersonal touch sending another bolt of heat straight between Jesse’s legs. He shifted on his stool, spreading his knees a little to ease the pressure.
“Everything okay?” Trevor nodded toward Jesse’s phone, still clutched in his hand. “Your friend?”
Jesse tossed his phone aside, picking up his coffee and hunching forward with his elbows on the counter. “I’m not sure,” he mumbled. “It’s—complicated.” He took a few sips and pushed his mug away, putting his head down on his crossed arms, suddenly overwhelmed. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Nah. Unless you want to make me a steak later.”
“You got it. Feeding you is definitely one thing I can do.”
Trevor wandered into the living room and sprawled out on the couch, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. He picked up the luau picture again. “I’ve never been to Hawaii. Do you have any other pictures?”
Jesse shook his head, hating when Trevor’s face fell with disappointment. “Neither one of us really thought to take any. That one I showed you was part of our luau package. Riley’s copy is in that box I gave you, along with his shell necklaces and a few souvenirs he bought.”
“Like what?” Trevor’s voice throbbed with eagerness, a thirst for knowledge. “What kind of souvenirs did he buy?”
Jesse cast his mind back, remembering Riley’s delight in discovering shelves full of exotic spice rubs, marinades and sauces.
“My dad will love these!” Riley grabbed several different bottles of marinade. “We’ll have another keg party when we get home, make him grill for us.”
“Glass bottles, Riles?” Jesse said dubiously. “I’m not sure they’d survive the Korengal, unless you’re just gonna ship them home from here.”
Riley bit his lip. “Shit, you’re right.” He put the marinade carefully back. “I’ll order him some online when we get home.”
“You know, the typical stuff,” Jesse finally answered. “A few magnets, T-shirts, stuff to remember the places we visited.”
“What kinds of places? What did you do?”
“Oh, God, so much, Trevor. We were there for almost two weeks. Let’s see.” Jesse tried, but his tired brain wouldn’t bring anything specific into focus. “It’d probably be easier just to take you there and show you,” he joked. “Hang on, I’m thinking...”
Trevor’s small intake of breath caught his attention, and Jesse looked over to see him sitting bolt upright on the couch, staring at him intently. “Would you?” he burst out. “Would you take me and show me?”
“What?”
Trevor rushed on. “Re-create your trip with me, Jess! Give me a chance to experience everything through your eyes so I can also experience it through his.” He leaned forward, earnestness in every line of his body.
Jesse was speechless, and as he remained silent, Trevor deflated a little. “It’s a lot to ask, I realize that. Time off work. I’d pay for everything—”
Jesse found his voice. “I don’t need you to pay for everything.”
“I’m not trying to insult you, Jess, by offering. You’ve already done it once, what had to have been a really expensive trip.”
“And I can afford it.” Jesse gave a mirthless chuckle. “Don’t let the crappy apartment and old truck fool you. I’ve barely touched any of my combat and hazard pay. A year’s worth, all tax free.”
Trevor blinked. “Oh. Right. I got all of Riley’s back pay after probate cleared, plus his SGLI. I haven’t touched a penny of it, as if anyone can put a dollar amount on his life.” His voice was low and bitter.
Jesse thought of the death benefit paid to the families of military members killed while serving—$100,000 immediately upon notification, and then up to an additional $400,000 in Servicemembers’ Group Life Insurance.
“I have half a million dollars sitting in the bank that I don’t know what to do with. It’s blood money, Jesse.”
“And it’s money Riley wanted you to have if the worst happened. He had to opt in for it, and pay premiums on it.” Trevor shook his head, and Jesse went on gently, “Spending it doesn’t mean you’re glad you have the money, Trevor. Nobody would think that, least of all Riley.”
“I know. It just feels so wrong, to benefit financially from his death. I’m having a hard time with it.” Trevor sighed. “At least think about Hawaii? Please. Just think about it. I want to really see him, through the eyes of someone who loved him, too. I want to know my son. You can’t take me to Afghanistan, but you can take me back to Hawaii.”
A giant lump took up residence in Jesse’s throat. “Shit, I can’t say no to you, Trevor.” Or to you, Riles, because I know this is what you’d want, too. “Of course I’ll go.”
The relief on Trevor’s face was palpable. “Thanks, Jess. I didn’t know how much I wanted this until just now.” He got to his feet, and Jesse looked up at him.
“You’re leaving?”
Trevor nodded. “Yeah. I figure you’ve had enough of me today, and I’ll get out of your hair before I really do wear out my welcome.” He gathered his wallet and keys from the coffee table, and Jesse got up to walk him out. After he’d left with a wave, Jesse slumped back against the door. Shit. Two weeks traveling intimately with the man he was developing a most inappropriate crush on. This wasn’t a recipe for disaster. Nope, not at all.
“Riley, don’t kill me, but I have to say it: Your dad is fuckin’ hot.” He tilted his face up toward the ceiling as if listening. “What’s that? It’s okay with you if I stare at his ass in a bathing suit? Noted. Great. Thanks, buddy.”
It’s not about me. It’s not about me.
Chanting that to himself, Jesse grabbed up his phone and texted Karen, letting her know he could come in to work after all. Anything was better than sitting around his lonely apartment brooding, and keeping busy was what he needed most right now.
You sure? I got it covered tonight if you wanna sit it out.
Jesse’s thumbs flew as he replied, Nah, I’ll come in. Got something I need to talk to you about anyway.
He winced, wondering how she’d react to him wanting two weeks off to go to Hawaii, of all places, but even if she ended up firing him, Jesse was determined to go. Despite his personal misgivings, he could see how it might help Trevor, and Jesse’s vow was to do anything it took. Anything.
You can’t take me to Afghanistan...
Trevor’s words echoed in his ears, and as Jesse passed the couch on his way to the shower, his eyes fell on the luau picture. Or could he?
Jesse scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he wanted, sucking in deep breaths while he listened to the ringing in his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Kimi? It’s Jesse Byrne. I need a huge favor...”