Oh, baby. What the hell happened to you? Ben stood unseen—completely helpless to stop his feet carrying him there—to watch Matt pull up to the jetty and Joshua help Zach get off the boat. And knew it would be killing him. Zach was one of the kindest men he had ever met, but he was proud and capable. It would hurt so badly, having to be helped from the boat. It had nearly destroyed Ben to see the droop of his shoulders and his shuffling, cautious steps when his memory was of large confident strides that Ben had sometimes had to jog to keep up with. Then Zach would notice, and a fond and apologetic look would be accompanied by a strong and steady arm around his waist and a soft kiss. Ben had lived for Zach’s kisses, but like so much else, he hadn’t known that until they were gone.

Ben hissed a short breath and rubbed his chest. That he should forget and call Zach baby, even in his head, was sliding down a rabbit hole he had to avoid at all costs.

Ben watched silently as Josh kept a careful hand on Zach’s arm and tried to dampen down the urge to run over and rip it off. Zach had a shirt and jeans on, but even from here, he could see he had lost weight. A lot of weight. Too much weight. Ben had always been jealous of the seeming ability Zach had to eat whatever he wanted and never gain an ounce, but Zach had run and always teased Ben about his yoga exercises. Ben used to snap and stress he worked harder keeping a smooth sleek body than Zach did a muscled one, and Zach would apologize and tell him how much he loved his body. And they would make love, and it would be perfect.

Ben sighed in annoyance. He sounded like the mooning idiot in his book, and he needed to change his character—his own and the one he was writing. For nearly half the book, his character’s love interest just wanted to strangle the whining waste of space, and Ben didn’t blame him which didn’t bode well for writing a love story. If one of them ended up murdered by the other in chapter eight, that would be problematic; both for the dead love interest and the fact there wouldn’t be a chapter nine.

He waited until Josh and Zach had gone into the building then heard the twigs rustle behind him and Kai’s happy whine.

“What are we looking at?” Charlie whispered.

Ben rolled his eyes. Charlie had said it like they were doing some secret espionage shit. Ever since Charlie had found out Ben was trying to write a book, he had been impossible. He kept coming up with all these improbable spy and horror plots even though he really knew Ben was writing something else.

Trying to be someone else.

In his book, the character he wanted to write about wasn’t some selfish, obsessed baby that had thrown away the only good thing that had happened in his life then pushed it away even further by running away.

He didn’t remember the first few days after the fire, thank God. He’d existed in some haze of drugs and pain until Davic had told him they’d managed to get ahold of Zach, and he was flying back to Hawaii. Ben had freaked out then. He was scarred, ugly. He didn’t want Zach staying with him out of pity, and it would kill him to see that in the gorgeous blue eyes he loved so much. So, he simply didn’t wait to find out. He’d immediately demanded a transfer, moving hospitals and states and trying to lose himself in nameless cities and nameless hospitals, and he never saw Zach again. He hadn’t wanted to see the horror in Zach’s eyes; he wanted to remember the love he saw there. Their only dealings had been through Seth, and he was sure Zach liked that just fine.

The paparazzi had been obsessed with finding him. A photographer that had always hated Ben seemed to make it his life’s mission to find him, and even broke into the hospital to take pictures of Ben while he was in a drugged sleep after the latest attempt at reconstructive surgery. The only bright point was that Ben’s face had been bandaged, so he couldn’t get the shot he’d really wanted.

It happened again twice. The same Rottweiler found him in New York then Atlanta and had gotten pictures of his face that time, so Ben had given up on big cities that he thought he would remain anonymous in. The photographer even found Zach, and a film crew had gotten a shot of Zach snatching the camera out of the guy’s hands and tossing it across the room next to where he was sitting. Ben recognized the restaurant in New York that had been one of their favorites—Le Bernadin—and they also caught a picture of Seth who was with him. Seth looked as furious as Zach looked bewildered and deeply hurt when the reporter shoved the shot he had gotten showing his scarred face under Zach’s nose, asking him if they split up because he couldn’t bear to look at Ben’s ruined face. And Zach hadn’t denied it. For a split second, the whole world saw the horror in Zach’s expression as he looked at the picture of Ben, and that—more than anything else—had convinced Ben he made the right decision. Ben had sobbed when he saw that because the reporter had only confirmed his own fear. It had also been the night he spent staring at both his bottles of pills. What should have been easy was suddenly so difficult, and when dawn came, he gave up on the surgeries and ran to Rainbow Key. Got a dog. Hid away so he could lick his wounds. He didn’t need anything else, and for once, the desperate way he had sought money had paid off because he had enough to live on, even if he never worked again.

And living on the island barely cost anything. It was no one’s fault but his own that he was restless.

“It’s a new guest,” Ben finally answered the question, knowing full well that Charlie knew that.

“You don’t have to see him if you don’t want. We’ll tell Matt.”

Ben smiled at that—Matt was their self-appointed bodyguard—but winced slightly at the tightness in his cheek. He had to slather a ton of moisturizer on his face and neck or it got sore pretty quickly, and he hadn’t done it this morning. He was too lost in his head about Zach arriving.

“Although, I don’t think he’s going to be wandering around anywhere,” Charlie added. Ben silently agreed, and while he was relieved, he wanted to weep for the happy, confident Zach he remembered who seemed to have turned into a shadow.

“Do you know what happened?” Ben asked, despite having convinced himself he didn’t want to know, didn’t deserve to know.

Charlie shook his head. “I asked if it was an accident, and Josh said no, but I can’t think what else would cause it.”

Ben’s pulse pounded in his ears. Nightmares rushed through his mind. What had happened? The urge to rush over and demand answers nearly overwhelmed him.

“How’s the book?”

“What?” The question seemed so incongruous when his life seemed to be teetering on a knife’s edge that, for a second, it seemed like Charlie was speaking a foreign language.

“Did you go for the ghost of his ex?”

“No.” Ben turned to stare at Charlie in disgust. Because that was eww. Then he saw the teasing smile. “I’m thinking of this evil dwarf who poisons people with noxious paint and dawbs demonic symbols on every wall.”

“Dawbs?” Charlie asked in mock outrage. “Is that even a word?”

“Definitely,” Ben smirked. “I’m a writer. I know these things.”

Charlie glanced at the closed main door Josh and Zach had walked through. “He looks too thin.”

Ben sobered immediately. He did. “Good thing Josh is feeding him then.”

Charlie shot an almost triumphant look at Ben, and Ben rolled his eyes for the second time. “I might have known the guy and might never want to see him again, but that doesn’t mean—” he stopped suddenly. What did he mean? Ben turned and muttered he would see Charlie later and, without waiting for a reply, whistled to Kai who had wandered off as usual and headed back towards his cabin. He could take one of the carts that would get him back in just over twenty minutes, but he had a feeling he needed the walk. Then, for no apparent reason he could think of, he veered towards the beach. For once, he didn’t want to be shut up in his cabin.

Zach looked up automatically when he heard the knock on his door an hour later and Matt walked in. “Josh sends his apologies, but a new guest has a peanut allergy and didn’t tell anyone.”

Zach winced at the possible nightmare. “Is he okay?”

“Sure,” Matt replied. “It’s just Josh worries about everyone. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. Then I understand he doesn’t have time to show me around.” Pity because now that he was here, he was curious.

“That’s why you’ve got me.”

“It is?” Zach hesitated. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Well, I have to empty the trash and stack the chairs on the beach, so if you don’t mind me doing that as well, I’m going down there.”

Zach stood immediately. He liked Matt. Liked that he didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t. “Sure, so long as I won’t be in your way.”

“Nope, Josh just said I might need to hang on to you. He doesn’t want the hotel to get a lawsuit.”

“Damn,” Zach shot back. “I was hoping that would pay for me to go to the Seychelles next month.”

Matt grunted. “The Seychelles hasn’t got anything we haven’t.”

“Lots of cute waiters then?” Zach replied and took Matt’s arm without feeling weird about it.

Matt grunted again. “I’ll let you know. But if I tell you to stand still, you have to.”

“Yes, sir,” Zach replied with a straight face.

“Because Josh will seriously fire me if you die on the day you arrive.”

Zach grinned.

“Come on. We’re going out the door you came in and getting on my golf cart. I have all the trash liners and stuff on there.” Matt paused. “Of course, we don’t have to. I can take you first and go do the jobs later.”

Zach shook his head. “I like watching people working when I’m on vacation and don’t have to.”

This time it was Matt’s turn to laugh.

Zach carefully reached for his glasses. The sun was going down, but with all Seth’s warnings still ringing in his ears, he always wore them. He warmed to Matt though. Nothing seemed to be a big deal to him. He was matter of fact about everything and didn’t bombard Zach with a ton of questions. In fact, if Zach hadn’t asked the occasional one, he wasn’t sure if Matt would have spoken much at all.

They took the cart right to the beach, and Zach stood and inhaled the salty smell of the ocean. He even closed his eyes behind his glasses automatically and felt tension trickle out with his exhale. Maybe Seth had been right. His brother seemed to have done nothing but kick his ass the last few months. Especially the last one when Zach hadn’t cared about anything. Seth had been away at a conference for five days, and Zach had fired the agency nurse who was looking after him at home as soon as he knew Seth would have boarded the plane.

Five days later, and fuck knows how many bottles of vodka, Seth had forced the door open to his apartment when Zach had been passed out drunk and gone ballistic on him. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t washed. And he hadn’t cared. Seth had told him flat out; either he got his shit together right fucking now or he was placing him on a psychiatric hold.

Which had frightened Zach enough to agree to come here.

The bark of a dog had him jerking to attention. He’d wandered a few feet away from Matt because Matt had said the tide was out, and the only thing beneath his feet was miles of sand, but the thought of being faced with an animal he couldn’t see and might not be friendly had him spinning around to where he knew Matt was stacking the sun beds.

“Hey, Kai,” Matt said in a warm voice. He must have noticed the way Zach twisted around sharply because his voice remained steady. “Kai’s just a big puppy. A Labrador cross and as soft as a brush.”

“Kai?”

Zach heard the whispered, faintly panicked plea of the other voice and stilled immediately.

“Hey, Ben,” Matt greeted the owner of the voice and obviously the dog, but Zach didn’t need to hear the name to know. Much as his mind was screaming in disbelief and denial, he only needed to hear the voice once to immediately recognize it.

Ben.

His Ben. The man he loved so desperately but had obviously never loved him. Zach whirled around and started walking away, ignoring Matt’s shout. His steps became faster and faster until he broke out into a run. Running from the voice he knew and couldn’t bear to hear now. He couldn’t see where he was going, and it didn’t matter. Nearly four fucking years. Four fucking years he had tried to find Ben, but he had vanished even before he’d made it to Hawaii. And that damn reporter had succeeded where he hadn’t then Ben had vanished again. All the agency would say was that Ben didn’t work for them anymore, and if Sylvia had said it was such a shame one more fucking time in front of him, he would have been tempted to put his fist through the expensive glass doors to her office. Even Seth, with all his medical contacts, had been unable to find him. He’d hired a private investigator, but it hadn’t helped, so Zach had thrown himself into his work. For nearly two years, he had stayed home searching until he’d given up, and since then, he had barely been home for more than a week at a time before he was gone again, chasing the next photograph. Then he had woken up without his sight and finally realized he had been missing his heart already.

“Zach, wait.” The words, urgent and panicked never filtered past the more pressing need to run. “Zach, stop.”

Fear. Fear this time, and that, more than anything, made Zach check his speed. The hand that clasped his arm and yanked made him stumble. “Rocks,” Ben gasped. “There are three huge rocks, and you were running right at them.”

“Zach,” Matt yelled, and Zach heard him closing in. He shook his head, his knees gave way, and the hand that held him guided him to the ground. “We’re okay, Matt,” Ben called back. Tight tears burned, and Zach yanked at the sunglasses that were suddenly suffocating and threw them to the side. Zach bent over, kneeling, hands clutching his abdomen as agony both speared and mocked him. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he forgot how to breathe. It seemed when he tried to inhale, nothing happened.

“Ben.” Choking, gasping, hurting.

“Hush,” Ben soothed. “Just breathe. Breathe with me.” And he did. Giddy as oxygen flooded his starving lungs, even as his body hungered for something else. He clasped the hand on his arm in sudden terror it was all a dream… a nightmare, and he had woken again to the other side of the bed as empty as the rest of him.

“Don’t—” go. But he couldn’t force the words through his choked throat. He jumped as a raspy tongue cautiously licked his other hand, and suddenly, it was ridiculous, and he was laughing. He gasped again, and the laughs became sobs as he bent over and clutched at his body, convinced if he didn’t hold on, he would fly apart.

But maybe he should let it go?

Crying. Shaking. Turning his head and pressing into the comfort of the one thing he needed and had forgotten. He tried to inhale Ben’s scent, but his nose was clogged. Tried to reach out and hold him but his arms shook.

“Hush, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Pain everywhere; in him, around him and in the catch of Ben’s voice that seemed to fracture over and over until his brain was echoey and foggy. He couldn’t think, didn’t want to think.

Harsh panting seemed to steady him, and he became aware of the arms clutching him, holding him up. He sagged again, too heavy, but too tired to do anything else. He wanted to ask so much, but renewed terror silenced him. More hands helped him to his feet, and too exhausted to form a protest, Zach did as he was told. All he could do was hold onto the one hand he was convinced it would kill him to let go. Begging him to stay, without having the energy to form the words.

“Let’s get him back and into bed.”

“Do you think we should call his doctor?”

“No,” Zach gasped, knowing it was Josh and Matt who spoke. Ben was silent, but so long as he didn’t leave, he didn’t need to hear him.

“I’ll stay with him.”

Which made Zach want to cry all over again. Please.

Zach was barely aware of being helped back into the cart then into the hotel. He was finally in bed and completely exhausted…and still, through everything, clinging to the hand that held his. Nothing else mattered. Being alive. Being blind. Nothing.