Sam

I face Cooper with my hands on my hips, tired of all the cloak-and-dagger bullshit. “What the hell is your problem? If this trip is so risky that you need back-up, then I should be here. It should be me who’s watching your back.”

Cooper laughs. But his amusement quickly morphs into anger as he gets right up in my face. “Shit, Sam, you couldn’t fight off a ninety-pound weakling in your condition right now. You’re a fucking liability for me where we’re going. Not only do I have to take care of business, but now I’ve got to babysit your ass, too.”

He’s right—I’m not up to par right now—and his words sting. I shove him back a step, my face heating up. “I may not be at my best right now, but I can sure as hell take care of myself. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

Cooper’s expression hardens, and he crowds me, pushing me until the back of my legs hit the mattress. He’s been pissed at me plenty of times before, sure. But I’ve never seen him like this. I can feel the waves of frustration rolling off him.

He grabs the back of my head, digging his fingers into my hair with such force that I can’t help wincing. I don’t think he meant to hurt me, because he immediately relaxes his hold. But he’s still holding me to him, nose-to-nose, and he’s breathing so heavily his nostrils are flaring. He’s so fucking magnificent.

In an effort to derail his anger, I press my lips to his and drink in his every breath, every frustrated sound he makes. He freezes for a moment, as if he’s caught off guard. Then he kisses me back, hungrily. He devours my mouth, eating at me and I can feel his hand on the back of my head, holding me, caressing me. When he releases me, we’re both trying to catch our breaths.

“Sit down, Sam.”

I take a seat at the foot of the bed as Cooper starts pacing like a caged tiger. He seems bigger than life in the tight confines of this small room, and I can’t help but be mesmerized as I watch him.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, “so I’m just going to come out with it. I realized I was gay when I was about twelve, thirteen years old. Where I grew up, back in the seventies, being gay was a good way to end up face-down in a ditch, you know what I mean? It just wasn’t acceptable, period.”

He glares at me, as if daring me to contradict him. I nod, unsure where this is going.

“I never acted on my feelings,” he says, “because I knew it would be dangerous. I’d seen other boys beaten just because they were suspected of being gay. The summer before I started high school—I was fifteen—I spent my days roaming the woods behind my house, alone, wrestling with my identity, tryin’ to understand why God made me this way. That summer I found an old, abandoned hunting cabin, and I fixed it up myself, patched the holes in the walls and reinforced the sagging roof. It was just a one-room shack, a real dump, but it was my haven. My safe place. I could hang out at that cabin all day long and contemplate my fucked-up life.”

“One day, another kid showed up in the woods. He was my age, and I recognized him from school. He lived about a mile down the road from where I lived with my folks.”

Suddenly Cooper stops talking, and I can see the muscles in his throat working hard. His gaze is a little fixed, as if he’s lost somewhere in his memories. His hands are balled into fists, and his chest is heaving. He looks haunted, tortured. My heart hurts for him, but I’m not sure how to help him.

“His name was Cody Martin. He was pretty lost, like me, pretty fucked up and lonely. To make a long story short, we became friends that summer. Good friends.”

Cooper gives me a pointed look. “Real good friends, you hear me?”

I nod. “He was gay.”

“Yeah. It was like God answered a prayer, you know? I wasn’t alone any more. I had someone in my life who understood me. We had each other. By the end of the summer, we were crazy in love. We were each other’s first. We fumbled through it together, figuring it out as we went, and it was exhilarating. We planned to run away, to find a place where we’d be safe, where we could be together. We both knew it wasn’t safe for either of us in Sweetwater.”

“One evening, just before dusk, we started for home, like we always did. We both had strict curfews and had to be home before dark if we knew what was good for us. When we reached the road, they were waiting for us. Three older boys, high school seniors. I knew these bullies—they were mean.”

He continues pacing, relaying the story dispassionately, as if by rote.

“They beat us with baseball bats until we couldn’t stand any longer, yelling slurs at us, callin’ us fags and sissies and unnatural. And when we were too weak to fight back, they tied our hands in front of us with ropes. They threw us in the back of a pick-up truck and drove us to the Sweetwater River bridge.”

I have a sick feeling in my gut as his story unfolds. I know where this is going, but I can’t wrap my mind around it. Dear God, surely they didn’t do what I think they did.

He keeps pacing, like an animal in a cage, trapped and desperate. His voice is rough, raw, as he forces the words out. “The river was high and fast because of the summer rains. And it’s a long drop from the bridge to the water—at least thirty feet. I knew what was coming, and I steeled myself for the inevitable. I was a strong swimmer, so I wasn’t too afraid for myself. But Cody….” Cooper shakes his head, his gaze wracked with pain. “Cody couldn’t swim.” His words hang in the air between us, as the horror of it all sinks in. The poor kid never stood a chance. “I don’t think he even registered what was about to happen— I think he’d blocked it all out.

“They threw us both over the railing, with our hands tied, and left us to die. I struggled to make it to the surface and swim to the muddy river bank, finally crawling out of the freezing water. Using the sharp edge of a rock, I sawed through the rope and freed myself.

“I combed the river looking for Cody. I yelled and screamed and cried his name for hours, until I was hoarse, but I heard nothin’ but the sound of rushing water. I searched for him all night, on both sides of the river, but I couldn’t find him. The next morning, a little after dawn, I found his body tangled up in the branches of a downed tree. He’d gotten snagged on a branch, and he drowned just two feet from the surface of the water.

“I pulled him out and carried him up to the road, where I left his lifeless body in the middle of the bridge, where he’d be found. And then, like a fucking coward, I ran. I didn’t go home. I didn’t stop for anything. I hitchhiked north to my dad’s sister in Illinois because I knew she’d take me in.

“The night I arrived at her place, she called my folks. News of Cody’s murder had spread through the small town like wildfire. Even from where I was standing halfway across the room, I could hear my dad screamin’ through the phone. He said I’d better stay up there with my aunt, cause if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me himself. I don’t know if he thought I killed Cody, or if it was just because he suspected I was gay. I never saw my parents again. My aunt went to court to adopt me, and the day I graduated from high school, I joined the Marines.”

He stops to face me, his hands on his hips as he glares at me. “I learned the hard way, Sam. Don’t ask, don’t tell. I learned that lesson so damn hard, I’ve never been able to unlearn it.”

I swallow hard and take a deep breath in an effort to maintain my control. My head is reeling from his story, and I’m absolutely horrified that anyone could treat other human beings this way. To think that he’s held this inside himself for so many years. My heart breaks for him. “Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”

His face screws up in agony, and his voice breaks. “Are you kidding me? You wonder why I didn’t want to tell you what a fucking coward I am? How I got some poor innocent kid murdered? Do you think I wanted you to know that?”

Pain rolls off him like heat boiling off the sun. Oh, my God, he’s serious. He thinks it was his fault. “You were just a kid, Cooper! You are not responsible for what happened to that boy.”

“Bullshit!” he yells, loud enough to rattle the thin wall separating the bedroom from the passenger cabin. “That boy drowned because of me! If I’d had more willpower—if I’d stayed away from him—if I’d been stronger, he wouldn’t have died!”

I shake my head, swamped with sadness for him. He’s been carrying this guilt with him for decades. My eyes tear up. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t! I couldn’t save him, Sam! He drowned because I couldn’t save him!”

He’s so choked with guilt and remorse he can barely breathe, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring as he tries to suck in air. “Do you think I wanted you—the love of my life—to know I was a coward?”

I hurt for him, just as bad as he’s hurting himself. I jump to my feet and intercept him, laying my hands on his face. “Shh, shh, shh,” I croon, stroking his face, desperate to calm him down before he has a stroke. “Look at me, Cooper.” His gaze locks on mine. Now that I’ve got his attention, I give him a crooked smile, hoping to coax him out of his downward spiral. “The love of your life? Really?”

He looks ashamed. “Have I been so damned closed-off that you don’t realize what you are to me? You’re the love of my life, Sam Harrison. You’re everything.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and tears leak out of the corners and roll down his taut cheeks. He pulls me close so that our foreheads are touching. “I don’t deserve you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Cooper. Do you hear me? Repeat after me…. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.”

I press my lips gently to his and lay my hand on his chest, right over his heart, which is pounding like a jackhammer. “What happened to the assholes who attacked you?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. The case was never solved, and I never stepped foot in Sweetwater again.”

“You didn’t tell anyone what happened?”

He shakes his head, his eyes haunted with guilt. “No.”

I can see the shame he harbors. He was too afraid, too traumatized to speak up. But he’s no coward now. That, I know. And now I realize where we’re headed, and why Shane thinks Cooper needs back-up. He’s going after those murdering assholes. It’s no wonder he’s mad at me for tagging along uninvited. I’m his Cody all over again.

It’s hard for me to reconcile the man he is at this moment with the strong, domineering man I know him to be. The man I love.

I was raised by a mom and sister who adored me. I came out to them when I was five years old, and they never once questioned my sexuality. I guess I was lucky. I’ve never experienced any of the hate and bigotry he has—and from his own father.

“Come here,” I say, taking Cooper’s hand and leading him to the bed. “Lie down with me.”

He does as I ask, uncharacteristically docile. He’s wiped out, gutted. I lie down behind him, spooning against his back. The room is deathly quiet now. “You are not a coward,” I murmur into his ear. “And it’s not your fault Cody died. That’s on them—those three assholes—not you.”

When I kiss the back of his neck, he makes a low, pained noise deep in his throat. “You’re the strongest, bravest man I know,” I tell him. I lay my hand over his heart, feeling the pounding against his ribcage. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

We both jump at the sound of a discrete knock, as Jake’s muffled voice comes through the door. “Guys? Is everything all right in there?”

I chuckle, realizing all that Jake must have overheard. But then, I’m sure he’s already been briefed by Shane and Cooper on where we’re going, and why. I tighten my arm around Cooper. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

Cooper thinks he has to protect me, but I’ll be damned if I’d ever let anyone hurt him.

* * *

I’ve never seen Cooper so rattled in my life. Watching him fall apart really threw me. He’s such a strong man. That’s what attracted me to him in the first place—his indomitable strength, his domineering personality—he’s like a force all his own. I’ve never seen him shaken before.

He’s always taking care of me; now it’s my turn to take care of him. “How much time do we have until we land?”

“Two hours, tops.” He sounds exhausted.

“Good. You just rest, and don’t worry about a thing.”

He reaches for my hand and holds it tightly to his chest. “Jesus, if anything happens to you.”

“Don’t think that way. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m about to stir up a nest of vipers, darlin’. And they won’t come after me—they’ll go after you. You’re my weakness. That’s why you shouldn’t be here. I should send you right back to Chicago the minute we land.”

I laugh. “As if you could! There are three of us. We have nothing to worry about. Now, close your eyes and relax. We have a couple of hours before we land. You need the rest.”

“Hell, I can’t relax.” He shifts restlessly. And ten minutes later, he’s snoring lightly.

I smile as I press my nose to the back of his neck and breathe him in, taking pleasure and comfort from his familiar scent. I lay my head against his and close my eyes. Whatever we’re about to face, we’ll get through it together.