“Yeah, he’s fine, Aleks. We’ll probably be talking long into the night, but I’ll have Remy check in with you tomorrow for sure.”

I didn’t know what to make of the fact that the young man who stepped into the darkened apartment was talking about himself in the third person, but part of me didn’t care as I drank in the sight of him. There was a light on just above him, but it was only enough to make out a few of his features.

But it didn’t matter because everything about him was stamped into the deepest recesses of my brain.

Billy.

No, not Billy.

Remy.

I’d known him only as Billy the first time I’d met him when he’d been a kid. That moment was also etched into my mind, but for very different reasons. And it seemed like it wasn’t just my brain that couldn’t rid itself of every second of that dark day when I’d done something, become somebody, I never would have dreamed possible. Every cell in my body remembered that day.

The smells.

The sounds.

The feel of the terrified, crying boy who’d had to have the strength of an adult to deal with what I’d had to do to him to keep us both breathing.

They would have left him alone, you cowardly piece of shit.

The voice in my head was ugly and cold, but I knew it was true.

Billy… no, Remy, wouldn’t have been punished for what had happened.

I would’ve been the one who didn’t walk out of that house alive.

The kid had saved my ass by playing along with everything I’d told him to do.

And I’d fucking left him there.

“Yeah, Aleks, here’s Remy. It was nice to meet you, finally, even if it was just over the phone,” Remy said. He had a messenger bag strapped across his midsection and sitting on one hip. I could see his left hand fisted on top of the cheap-looking material. His right hand was holding the phone against his ear. He pulled the phone away from his face for a moment as if he were actually going to hand it to someone. I watched as he drew in a deep breath, then put the phone back to his ear.

“Satisfied?” he asked with what probably was supposed to have been a humorous drawl, but he didn’t smile. The voice he used was the same one I’d heard earlier in the day right before he’d slammed his fist into my jaw.

His natural voice.

“Yeah, Joe’s great,” Remy said.

I knew he was talking to Aleks Silva, my brother’s boyfriend. What I didn’t understand was why he had pretended to be someone else… Joe.

Who the fuck was Joe?

I actually felt jealousy curl through my belly and that made me want to throw up.

Because no way in hell could I or should I be attracted to this young man.

Not after what I’d done to him.

“Yeah, I’m just going to stay with Joe for a few days… until he’s sure I’ll be okay on my own,” Remy said, his voice a strange mix of confidence and certainty that, again, didn’t match his expression. I willed him to turn around so I could see his face full-on.

I knew I should probably say something to make my presence known, but I needed these moments to take in everything about him. I’d already been through his apartment after I’d broken into it.

And breaking in was exactly what I’d done – and it had taken a hell of a long time considering the young man had four different locks on his door. Thankfully, he lived in a small building that didn’t have a lot going on so late in the evening.

“I’ll call you when I’m back in town,” Remy said, clearly lying, since we were in town… downtown Seattle, to be exact.

I leaned back in the chair I was sitting in. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but from looking around Remy’s apartment when I’d first managed to get into it, I’d already determined Remy seemed to prefer function to fashion or comfort. His furniture was the kind you could get from any cheap furniture store and while not exactly new, it hadn’t seemed like thrift-store used, either. His bedroom had just a mattress and a dresser in it and his small kitchen sported only the basic appliances and a few pots and pans. His refrigerator was mostly empty.

Which might explain why Remy was so skinny.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” Remy remarked as he said his goodbyes to Aleks. From the expression on Remy’s face, I could tell it pained him to lie to his friend.

So why was he doing it?

You know why.

I actually shook my head before I caught myself.

No, I refused to believe that. From the information I’d managed to pull together in the last few hours, Remy had been living a quiet, comfortable existence in the two years since he’d moved to Seattle from Chicago. He had a good job at a local security firm and from what I’d seen this afternoon, he was part of a large group of men and women who considered themselves family, despite so few of them actually sharing any blood.

I dismissed the fear that was going through me that seeing me had somehow set him back. It was just another layer of guilt I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

But I also knew why I was really here.

It wasn’t to apologize to him for what I’d done, because there was no way to apologize for something like that.

I’d destroyed his life.

My brother, Vaughn, had tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew the truth. I’d promised to save him, and I hadn’t done it. I’d chosen another child to save instead of him.

And I’d ended up destroying them both.

I refused to let my mind shift to my son, Gio, because I just wasn’t capable of dealing with that right now.

I couldn’t even deal with the fact that Remy was Billy and that the boy I’d thought I’d never see again was standing right in front of me.

He’d been around thirteen or fourteen when I’d last seen him. The information I’d managed to have my private investigator pull together on Remy in the last few hours had been sketchy at best, but one thing was clear.

He’d never gotten to go home.

I only knew that because Remy’s identity on paper had begun only two years ago. He’d been issued a new social security number and there’d been no mention of any kind of previous history in his records. His credit and employment history were only two years old, and there was nothing about parents or family in any of the little bit of a paper trail my investigator had managed to find. Normally, I’d have any one of my brothers do that kind of research, but I definitely hadn’t wanted to explain to King or Con or Lex anything about Remy and why I was trying to dig up information on him.

Vaughn was the only one who knew what I’d done to Remy, aka Billy, eight years earlier when I’d entered a world I hadn’t fully understood… one in which kids were sold and traded for sex.

Remy had been one of those kids.

My son, Gio, had been too.

I’d been trying to find Gio when I’d met Remy. I’d thought myself so lucky to have managed to get access to the sex trafficking ring that had stolen my child from me, but when I’d been led into an old farmhouse several hours north of Chicago, I’d known it wouldn’t be so simple to find my son and bring him home.

But I’d been desperate, and I’d understood that my only chance of finding Gio had meant playing the game. Only, I hadn’t understood the price I’d have to pay until I’d walked into a dirty, dark, nearly empty room with a single bed in it.

I also hadn’t understood that I wasn’t the only one who’d have to pay a price.

After hanging up, Remy merely dropped the phone to the floor. The entryway to the apartment was carpeted, so it barely made a sound. I could see the young man was agitated.

Really agitated.

He was shaking with whatever emotion he was dealing with.

I almost laughed at that… like it was a question or something. Like I didn’t know exactly what the fuck he was dealing with.

He was dealing with having run into the man who’d promised to save him but had left him to his fate.

Do you know how long I fucking waited for you to come back for me?

I must have made a sound as I remembered the pain in his voice when he’d asked me that very question this afternoon because Remy froze, then turned to look in my general direction. The section of the apartment I was sitting in was dark, but his eyes landed right on me.

I expected him to say something or at least turn on the lights for the rest of the apartment so he could see me, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked at the wall in front of him, then slowly eased the messenger bag off and dropped it to the floor next to his phone.

“You’re late,” he said softly. “By about eight years.” He leaned against the door so he was still facing the wall. His voice sounded resigned and all the agitation just fell away until there was nothing. He pulled in a breath and said, “Actually, eight years, four months—”

“—three days, six hours, and thirteen minutes,” I finished for him.

He glanced at me in surprise for the briefest of moments, then the emotion slipped away.

“Who’s Joe?” I asked.

Remy let out a soft laugh, then turned so he was facing me. He reached out with his right hand to flip on the lights. “What?” he asked, his lips pulling into something of an amused grin. But it wasn’t a natural one. “You worried I’m not quite right up here?” he asked as he pointed to his head.

The reference to his mental health hit a little too close to home considering what my son was currently going through, but I managed not to react. Although Gio had been rescued from the man who’d hurt him for so many years, my child wasn’t okay.

Not physically.

And most certainly not mentally.

In fact, he was so far gone I couldn’t even conceive of the fact that he was now even further out of my reach than he’d been when he was missing.

“Don’t worry yourself about it,” Remy said, the smile fading away. “They turned me into a junkie, not a psycho.”

I knew who “they” was.

The men who’d taken him and forced him into a life no child should ever have to even know about, let alone face.

The confirmation that he was indeed an addict made something seize in my chest. My PI had found evidence that Remy had been enrolled in a Methadone program when he’d arrived in Seattle two years earlier, but I’d wanted to believe that meant his life had gotten…

What, Luca? Better? How the fuck does life get better after something like that?

I didn’t have an answer for the question.

“So Joe is your sponsor,” I said as stood. I saw Remy tense up slightly, but otherwise he didn’t react.

“Was,” Remy corrected. “He OD’d six months ago.” Remy crossed his arms. “He’d been sober twelve years. Then his wife left him and he went in search of his old friend… they say it doesn’t take much to have you wanting to reach for that needle,” he added casually.

Like it was all some foregone conclusion.

“Could be something as simple as a smell that reminds you of the room you used to get high in… or someone who looks like your dealer… or something from your past shows up to remind you how fucked up the world really is.”

I ignored the not-so-subtle message.

“And the voice?” I asked. “Joe’s voice?”

Remy actually looked guilty for a moment. “I knew Aleks would come over here if he knew I was by myself.”

“They were already here,” I said as I motioned to the door behind him. “I was half expecting my brother to break the damn thing down, with the way Aleks was calling your name.”

I didn’t tell him that I also figured the hotel I was staying at probably would have been Aleks and Vaughn’s next stop after Remy’s apartment. My brother had messaged and called me multiple times, but I’d ignored his efforts to reach out to me.

I began walking toward Remy. With every step I took, he got more tense.

Other than being a little too thin, he was a beautiful man and I didn’t recognize any of the child he’d been when I’d first met him. His hair was a lush brown that had lighter streaks running through it. It was haphazardly styled, like he was the kind of person who ran his fingers through the lush locks a lot and didn’t realize it. His eyes were a deep blue color and he had full eyebrows, a straight nose, and a square jaw with just a hint of stubble on it. But it was his mouth that I was having the hardest time keeping my gaze off of.

His lips were a soft shade of pink and there was no other way to describe them than totally kissable.

I lifted my eyes and saw that Remy was watching me with what could only be called caution.

He’d undoubtedly noticed me checking him out.

“Nice trick with the voice,” I said. “If I hadn’t been looking at you, I definitely would have been fooled.”

“I’m good at tricks,” Remy said, his hard eyes pinning mine. My confusion must have shown because he tilted his head at me. “Oh, so he didn’t tell you,” Remy said softly.

I’d closed the distance between Remy and myself by at least half, but something in the way he said those last words had me coming to a stop. None of this encounter was happening how I’d envisioned it. I’d just wanted the chance to make sure Remy was okay and try to explain why I’d done what I’d done eight years earlier. Maybe we could…

What?

I didn’t have an answer for myself. Well, I did, but they were all selfish ones.

Maybe he’ll forgive me and I can stop hearing his sobs in my head every time I close my eyes.

Maybe he’ll say he’s okay and there was nothing I could have done differently.

Maybe he’ll tell me he’s happy and I can finally fucking breathe again.

Remy kept moving toward me, his eyes never leaving my face. I expected him to stop long before he reached me, but he didn’t. He didn’t stop until his body was practically brushing mine. His right hand came up to stroke down my chest and my cock instantly responded. I’d already felt like the lowest form of life on the planet for the fact that I’d been half-hard since he’d walked into the apartment, but now I just wanted to curl up into a ball of shame because I couldn’t control my reaction to his nearness.

And my entire life was about control.

“Do you know what they do to you when you don’t play by the rules, Luca?” Remy asked softly, almost seductively as he skimmed his hand down my chest. I told myself to step back, but I couldn’t move. I knew how fucked up all this really was, but I just couldn’t move. My body was homed in on his touch, but my mind was focused on his voice and his words, and I knew whatever was coming would just make everything worse.

But fuck if I didn’t deserve worse.

So much worse.

My suffering was a drop in the hat compared to his.

“They let the pimps have you because you’re too much trouble for the high-paying clients,” Remy said softly. His fingers touched my dick through my dress pants, but my body was thankfully catching up to my mind and my flesh wasn’t responding. But unfortunately, my cock wasn’t deflating fast enough, so to Remy it probably looked like the whole thing was turning me on.

Which just made me more of a sick fuck in his eyes than I already was.

I let his words wrap around my mind as I accepted the truth of what he was telling me.

“I’m sor—”

The fingers of Remy’s left hand quickly closed over my mouth to silence me. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were full of bitter, brittle anger.

“You owe me this,” he whispered, and I nodded because I understood what he was saying, and he was right.

The least I could do was listen to what my actions had done to him.

“They first took me when I was eleven. I lost track of how many guys fucked me, but I never forgot the one who didn’t,” Remy said softly. “Even after they sold me to a pimp who shot me up with heroin right before he ‘tested the merchandise’ for himself, I couldn’t stop thinking about the promise that help was coming… that someone was finally going to come for me. All I could think about was the gentle voice that had told me about the beach and dolphins and the promise that he’d take me to see them someday.”

Remy dropped his hand from my mouth. My heart was pounding against my chest and my throat felt so tight I was sure I wouldn’t be able to take even one more breath. I remembered all those things I’d said to him as if it’d been days ago, not years.

“I wish you really had fucked me in that room that day, Luca,” he said, his voice husky with unshed tears. “It would have been kinder,” he added.

I nodded because I knew he was right. I dropped my gaze. When Remy reached for my hand and pulled it to him, I let him. His fingers nudged mine open. Then he was putting something in my palm before he covered my hand with his.

“It’s my turn to forget about you,” Remy bit out, his voice incredibly even. “Take this with you when you go,” he said as he pulled his hand back slightly to reveal a plastic baggie sitting in the middle of my palm. The bag had a small, black rock in it.

But I knew it was no rock.

“You’re not worth losing two years of sobriety,” he whispered as he closed my hand so it was fisted around the baggie. Then he was walking past me and I heard a door snick closed from somewhere behind me.

His bedroom door, probably.

Or bathroom.

It didn’t matter.

It also didn’t matter that he was wrong about one thing.

I’d never forgotten him.

And I knew now, more than ever, I probably never would.

I deserved no less.