Chapter Fourteen
Drew sat at the table, dragging his fork absentmindedly across the omelet Sam had made for him. Matt, sitting next to him, wasn’t doing much better, half of his omelet still on the plate. Sam’s clear plate sat over by the sink, mocking them both.
Drew could just about hear Sam’s voice through his bedroom door. As soon as he’d finished eating, he’d gone to make some calls, fully intending to follow through on Matt’s request for help. Professional help. While Drew knew Sam wasn’t keen on the idea, he felt it was right. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone in the state of mind Matt was. When they’d first met, he had seen the strain on Matt from trying to hold himself together. Now, he didn’t seem to have the energy left to try.
“Do you want something else?” he offered. “Toast or a bagel.”
Matt shook his head. “I’m not that hungry. You neither, huh?” he asked, indicating Drew’s plate.
“Sam said some things. I know he’s right and I can see he wants to help, but it doesn’t seem fair to put him in the middle of my problems.”
“You and me both,” Matt replied. “But that’s who Sam is. He gives and gives. He was the same with his family, and when we were deployed. He was known as the person you went to if you needed a helping hand. I don’t think I ever saw him turn anyone away. I don’t know how he does it. I’m exhausted just trying to help myself.”
“But that’s different. That’s family. With the people you serve with, there are bonds there I’m guessing. I’m just a stranger he gave a room to.”
“If that’s all it was, I don’t think I’d have found you sleeping together on the couch this morning.”
He felt his face heat at Matt’s words.
“That was just—” Just what? Just comfort? Just kissing, like the other night? Whatever they were ‘just’ doing, it was a damn sight more than two strangers sharing an apartment.
“I know you’re scared, Drew. I get that. Maybe you’ve lost trust in the people who are supposed to have your back in all of this. Maybe you’ve never had anyone you felt you could trust enough to help. I’m saying Sam will do that and he won’t exact a cost. That’s just who he is.”
Sam’s phone call ended and his door opened. Drew gave Matt a grateful smile, resolving to think over everything the other man had said.
Two pairs of eyes watched him return to the room and take a seat at the small table.
“Declan has some contacts, he’s going to call them and get back to me. He said it might take a day or two to get something sorted. For now, you stay here.”
Sam turned to Drew. “You, too. It would be safer for you right now if you stayed in the apartment until we decide what we’re going to do.”
Matt looked puzzled, glancing from Sam to Drew. Drew caught his look, admitting with a shrug, “My ex is stalking me and getting me fired.”
“And might have been the reason Drew was assaulted,” Sam added, wanting Matt to know the gravity of the situation.
“Damn,” Matt said. “I guess misery really does love company. Welcome to the club, Drew.” He patted Drew on the back as the other man stared at him, bewildered, before breaking out into a grin. “Not the kind of club I was planning on joining.”
Sam’s phone rang and Matt started, knocking his glass off the table where it smashed on the floor. He was frozen, eyes wide, alert and searching for danger.
“It’s okay, Matt,” Sam said slowly, silencing his phone, and giving his friend his full attention. “Just my cell. It’s Declan. I’m going to answer it, okay? Drew will keep you company.”
He didn’t try to touch him and when Drew reached for him, Sam shook his head once, sharply.
“Matt, are you with us?” He seemed distant, his shoulders heaving with each breath. “It’s just you, me, and Drew here, having breakfast in my kitchen, that’s all.”
His gaze fell on Matt's hands which were clinging to the edge of the table, his knuckles white.
“You’re not there,” Sam continued, hoping against hope he was saying the right thing. “You’re here with us. Take some slow breaths, smell the coffee brewing behind you, hear the traffic outside. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Gradually, Matt’s breathing slowed, his hands releasing their death grip on the table. “Sorry, Sam. It just startled me.”
“That’s okay, Matt. It really is. We know you’re not yourself, that you’re not well. You don’t have to pretend you're fine. You’re just the same as you were last night, except that you’re looking for help now and not just a way out. It doesn’t mean you’re suddenly alright again.”
Matt sagged at that, resting his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “Fuck it. I’m such a mess.”
“Yeah, you’re in a bad way right now. But that’s why you’re here. That’s why I called Declan. To get you the help you need.”
He turned to Drew who was watching all this in silence. Far from stunned or shocked, he looked ready to help. “Why don’t you call Declan back, Sam,” he said. “I’ll stay with Matt.”
“Sorry about your glass,” Matt said. “I’ll clean that up.”
“I’ll get it,” Drew replied. “You need a few minutes to catch your breath.”
Knowing Matt was in safe hands, Sam grabbed his phone and retreated to his room, returning Declan’s call.
“Hi Declan, sorry I missed you—”
Matt looked drained, pale and exhausted, his hands scrubbing repeatedly over his face as if to wake himself up.
“You know, you’re probably still groggy from the sleeping pills,” Drew pointed out. “Why don’t you go and lie back down. You can use my bed.”
There was a long pause before Matt replied, his voice rough. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Will you tell Sam I’m sorry?”
“No,” Drew replied. “I won’t. Because you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“You don’t even know why I’m like this, so how could you know that?”
“Do the whys really matter? You were deployed, you served your country, tried to help and protect people. That was your job, and you did it. I can’t even imagine the kind of circumstances you worked under.”
“I was stupid,” Matt muttered. “I got too attached. Then… two seconds, that’s all it took. Blood everywhere.”
Drew didn’t think this mumbled confession born of exhaustion would do Matt any good.
“Come on, I’ll show you my room and you can get some more rest.”
“You’re right. God, I’m tired. So fucking tired. What if it doesn’t get any better, Drew? What if this is it, forever?”
Drew wasn’t sure how to answer that without sounding patronizing.
“I think you’ve hit rock-bottom, Matt. From here, the only way is up.”
When Sam returned to the kitchen Drew was clearing up the dishes from breakfast.
“Where’s Matt?”
“My room. He’s exhausted. Did you have any luck?” Drew turned as he spoke, drying his hands on a cloth.
“Declan got him an appointment this afternoon with the intake doctor at the hospital. They’re not guaranteeing anything but they’ll do an assessment and decide from there.”
“And if they just push pills at him and send him home?” The last thing Drew wanted was to be selfish in this situation, but he wondered where that left him and Sam’s offer of help.
“Then we’ll work something out. Look for help elsewhere. He wants it, he needs it. What he doesn’t need is to be fobbed off now that he finally has the motivation to try.”
Drew leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms. “How long have you been trying to get him to accept help?”
“On and off since he was discharged. So about five months. He wasn’t so bad at first. I think he rallied, being home, on familiar ground. He started working straight away too. The cracks only began to show about a month later. He was really struggling with managing any pressure at work. That’s just not Matt, the guy thrives on pressure. Or, at least, he did.”
“He told me helping people is what you do.”
He wasn’t sure where he was going with that, but he wanted to see Sam’s reaction. There was no clear indication of what this was between them. They weren’t lovers, he wouldn’t have called them friends, in the traditional sense, yet Sam was willing to go all out for him.
“I guess I’ve always been that kind of person. It was how I was raised,” was all Sam said in reply. “I’m going to call work, put in for a few personal days, in case this takes longer than we’re expecting. Besides, when you take me up on my offer, I’m going to need them.”
He was back in his room, the door closing quietly, before Drew had fully processed his words. He’d said ‘when’, not ‘if’. Like it was a given that Drew would accept his offer of help. Sliding into a seat at the table, he set his elbows on the table, rested his chin on his hands and tried to take stock.
Obviously, Matt was their first priority. They had to make sure he was okay, that he was safe and able to get help. Once they had that in place, what then? Was he really willing to risk Sam’s safety as well as his own? The alternative was a life on the run until Russ decided it was too much of a liability to have him running around. Going back… going back wasn’t an option. Russ horrified him now, scared him. He’d dreamt, more than once, of being under the water, diving mask on, seeing something circling him out of the corner of his eye. In the dream, he knew he was in danger. Shark. But it was never the shark that got him, it was that moment when he tried to suck in a breath and pulled in nothing. And he flailed and fought and tried to get to the surface, all the while the shark was circling closer and closer, still just a shadow—
Stumbling to his feet, he went to the window, pushing it open and sticking his head out, taking gulping breaths. The hands on him made him jump as he was turned around.
Sam was holding him by the shoulders, his touch firm.
“Drew, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He couldn't get the words out, didn’t know what he’d say if he could. What came out was an inarticulate cry, a sob that shook him right down to his toes.
“Damn it.” Sam’s words were soft as he pulled him close, pressing Drew to his chest and holding him there. “It’ll be okay, Drew. You just have to trust me, you have to let me help. Can you do that?”
Drew nodded against him as another sob tore through him. The man Russ had killed, he’d only been thirty-two, with a wife and a baby boy. He hadn’t deserved the fate Russ had designed for him. No money or business deal, no leg up over his competitors, was worth an innocent man’s life. That thought had haunted him since he’d put the pieces together. This wasn’t just about him, about being safe from Russ. This was about doing what was right.
“I want… I want to try to make things right,” he said, clutching Sam’s shirt. “I want to get justice for the family of the man he killed. I want them to know that he wasn’t careless, that it wasn’t his fault. Can you help me do that?”
Sam sighed against him, his body relaxing. “I can help and I will. But I need you to honest with me from here on out. Completely honest. No half-truths or leaving things out, got it?”
Drew looked up, meeting Sam’s determined gaze.
“I’ll be honest with you. About all of it. I promise.”
“Good,” Sam replied, leaning in to place a kiss on Drew’s forehead. Drew wished it was his lips, or his neck, or that little groove above his collar bone. But that was getting distracted and neither of them could afford to do that right then.