Chapter Fourteen
“Dr. McCloud, just the man I’ve been looking for.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “All I wanted was to bang a hot guy in Vegas. That’s all I wanted.” He turns to a family walking past, saying to the children as their mother ushers them toward the pool, “Consequences are real, kids. Don’t drink and hook up.”
The woman shoots him a concerned glance and herds the children on more quickly just as Tony catches up to Patrick on the walkway.
Patrick shakes the bag in his hand, rattling the frozen Snickers bars he just picked up at the on-site convenience store. “Make it fast. I don’t want Will’s snack to melt.”
Tony’s smile dimples both cheeks, and Patrick rolls his eyes as his dick traitorously notices yet again how darkly handsome Will’s father is. He wishes he could honestly say he doesn’t know what Kimberly sees in the man, but the way sex oozes off him—all that dark glossy hair, those white teeth, and his hazel eyes—makes it hard to miss.
“You and I have unfinished business.”
“Nope,” Patrick says, turning his back on Tony. “I told you at Christmas and again the last time you were in Healing schtupping Kimberly, I’m not interested in a life of crime. Thanks. Bye.”
Tony chuckles. “No, not about that. Not this time. I’m talking about the situation with Will.”
Patrick lets out a sharp sigh. “What situation with Will? He’s happy, healthy, and less insane than all of the rest of you put together. What more do you want?” He remembers past threats and clenches his hands together protectively. “And leave any mention of my fingers out of this.”
Tony squeezes Patrick’s shoulder warmly. “I’d never dream of doing any damage to those talent fingers. Not so long as my son is, as you say, happy, healthy, and…sober. Is he sober?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain?”
“Aren’t you?” Patrick shoots back. “You’ve got your goons hanging around Healing again. They’d have noticed if Will was hitting up the bars. Especially since that’s how they spend their own evenings I’m sure. When they’re not indulging at the whorehouse.”
“Escort service,” Tony corrects.
“Whatever.”
Another family hustles by them, the father putting his hands over his daughter’s ears and glaring at them. Obviously, this isn’t a conversation fit for public consumption, but so few of his conversations are: either no one wants to hear about brains because of the gore factor or no one wants to hear about sex because of the TMI factor. In Patrick’s opinion, that’s their problem, not his.
“Rumor has it Will’s ex has taken a turn for the worse and that my son is footing the bill for it.”
“No, I’m footing the bill.” Patrick rubs the bridge of his nose. It’s tender still from the prior day’s burn. Luckily, it doesn’t seem bad enough to peel, but their honeymoon isn’t over yet.
“And why would you do something like that?” Tony cocks his head, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“No, I suppose you don’t.” Tony frowns. “I don’t like the idea of that man—a man who hurt my son—”
“No small thanks to you.”
“—getting a king’s treatment.”
“You’d rather he suffered?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Tony says slyly, slipping an arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “Payback for all he did to Will. All the pain and hurt he caused him?”
“No. I’m not a sociopath.” Patrick shrugs him off. “So, let me get this straight. You came out tonight, leaving Kimberly and your bouncing bride alone, to give me the third degree about Ryan Whitehead’s medical care? I call bull crap on that.”
Tony shrugs. “I was going to the convenience store to buy more condoms actually. It’s been a wild couple of days. But, when I spotted you without Will, I decided to investigate a few things I’ve been meaning to address with you alone. The other being Will’s relationship with his mother.”
“Talk to Will. That’s between him and Kimber—” Patrick puts up his hand. “Never mind. Don’t talk to him. You’ve interfered in our honeymoon enough.”
“It’s not as bad as you make it out to be. You’ve had plenty of time alone. I know because I’ve been so busy myself that I almost can’t walk straight.”
“This conversation is done.”
“Not so fast.”
Patrick glares at him before turning away. “Yes, so fast. You have nothing to say that interests me.”
“You and Will should have dinner with us tomorrow night.”
“Nope.”
Tony smiles winningly. “It would go a long way toward soothing Kimberly’s hurt feelings.”
“Kimberly’s hurt feel—” Patrick wipes a hand over his face. “You know what? Forget it. Go back to your little swingers party for three and leave me and your son alone.”
It’s only as Patrick’s stalking away that it occurs to him that it’s probably not wise to talk to a murdering mobster that way. But he shrugs and doesn’t even look back over his shoulder. Because if there’s one thing he’s sure of about Tony Molinaro it’s that he loves banging Kimberly Patterson.
And if there’s one thing he’s sure of about Kimberly Patterson, it’s that she is obsessed in her own sick way with Will. That means Patrick’s safe from the Molinaros and murder so long as Will is happy with him, and so long as Kimberly doesn’t decide Patrick needs to be offed.
Probably.
It doesn’t really matter. He’ll take his chances rather than live in fear. Besides, Tony Molinaro seems to like it when Patrick puts him in his place. Maybe because no one else does.
Will sits in bed reading when Patrick comes back from his little surprise tête-à-tête with Tony with the bag of half-melted frozen Snickers bars. Patrick tosses the bag on the night table and opens his mouth to propose they play a kinky game with the candy, because apparently Hawaii’s fresh, ocean air gives his dick teenage boy stamina again.
He stops in his tracks. Rivulets run down Will’s face and he’s red from the middle of his chest up, like he’s been crying for a while now.
“What’s wrong?” Patrick rushes to him, slips his hands into Will’s hair, and lifts his head. “What’s happened?”
“I hate this book!” Will exclaims, throwing the thick novel on the floor, his lips trembling. “I hate it so much!”
Will’s willingness to express his feelings is something Patrick admires, though he sometimes finds it confusing as hell. He’s been enjoying his vampire book, but even when he hates something he’s reading, he doesn’t cry about it. Taking a deep breath, he rolls with it. “I take it A Little Life is not the next great gay novel then?”
“It’s so sad.” Will’s mouth crumples, and he leans over, crying into his hands. “It’s so horribly sad.”
Patrick’s not big into literature, preferring to spend his too-few entertainment hours being actually entertained, but he’s been through college. He’s read The City and the Pillar and he’s seen too many miserable gay films. He knows the score. “Aren’t all ‘great gay stories’ sad?”
“No!”
Patrick considers. “I mean, someone has to die or commit suicide or there’s no big important life lesson in it, right?”
“Stop.”
Patrick awkwardly pats his back. “Want to tell me?” He kind of hopes Will doesn’t, actually, but he’ll listen if it’ll make Will feel better. He suspects whatever he says in reply won’t help much, though.
“It’s too sad to talk about.”
“Okay.” Relief flows. He can just hold Will and that’ll make it better in its own way. At least it usually does.
But as soon as Will’s safe in his arms, tucked up against Patrick’s chest in a reverse of their usual sleeping position, Will starts talking about the book again. He outlines the plot and says, “That’s when I flipped ahead because it had to get better, right? Right?” He clutches Patrick. “It didn’t get better. It got worse.”
“Sounds like a bad book.”
“It’s so unbelievable in one way, but in others…in the abuse and the way a young person can be led into doing things they never wanted to do.” He swallows thickly, rubbing his cheek against Patrick’s shirt. “It made me think about you and that man who—” His voice chokes. Patrick shudders. He prefers to forget. “And it reminded me of what happened between me and Ryan. And it made me think of other people too.”
Patrick says nothing, stroking down Will’s back. Life’s plenty hard and maybe bringing a child into it is selfish and stupid. But he can’t help thinking that he and Will are going to pull it off somehow. Maybe love has made him optimistic? He hopes not.
“Why is it so easy to break someone, Patrick? How can it be so simple to take a person and destroy them?”
Patrick has a feeling this is a rhetorical question. He’s getting better at figuring those out. He used to just answer any question Will posed to him, willy-nilly, but time has proven that sometimes Will doesn’t actually want answers. Especially not Patrick’s answers. He kisses the top of Will’s head instead.
“Abuse can happen to anyone.” Will’s voice is rough and haunted. “Even someone proud and strong. Someone like Hartley.”
“Ah.”
Of course Will hasn’t forgotten about Ryan and Hartley. Caitlin telling him about Ryan is bound to bring up all kinds of memories and feelings, and being on their honeymoon isn’t going to squash that completely. So, of course the abuse he’s read about in the book forced it all to the surface again.
“I’m sorry,” Will whispers. “I shouldn’t be upset about Ryan. He was awful to me and—”
“It’s fine.” Patrick touches his cheek.
“Is it?”
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Besides, I read in Bride Magazine’s online special honeymoon edition that brides usually cry on their honeymoon. It’s a thing.”
“I’m not the bride,” Will says, laughing wetly, poking Patrick’s stomach. “You’re the bride.”
“We can both be the bride.” He rubs Will’s shoulder. “If lesbians can do it, so can we.”
Will clasps him close. “Patrick?”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up.”
They kiss for a long time and hold each other, their passion slowly growing, and eventually they fuck again. This time with the toy inserted so Patrick can pound the grief out of Will without hurting him. When it’s over, they hold each other and Will cries some more. Patrick lets him, because it’s the only thing he can do. No amount of logic is going to make Will not care about the dickwad who abused him for years. He’s tried that before. It doesn’t work.
Love is weird like that. He should know. He’s going to have a baby with Will and bring it into the craziest family ever. Maybe Child Protection Services should intervene before they even get started.
After they’ve eaten the melted remains of the frozen Snickers bars in the middle of their wrecked sheets. Flushed from his recent tears and even more recent orgasm, Will’s quiet for such a long time that a shiver passes over Patrick’s sweaty skin. “You okay?” he asks eventually.
“With you? Yes.” Will sighs. “With my past? No. I still can’t believe the Ryan I loved became the Ryan who’s dying.”
“I know.”
“Why does it hurt? I love you now. I don’t even love him anymore, do I? Why does it hurt to think of him dying and Hartley so destroyed but loyal to him? Maybe I should have gone to see him.”
“Do you want to go now?” Patrick smooths Will’s hair off his forehead.
“No. I don’t really want to see him ever again. I just never thought the way we ended it would really be the way we left it forever.”
“You could call.”
“You don’t really want me to do that.”
“No, but if it helps.”
Will shakes his head. “Sometimes things are messy in life. Not everything is tied up with a bow and sealed with smiles and forgiveness.”
“True.”
Will’s eyes go sad and distant again. “All of this makes me wonder if it really is a good idea to bring another person into this world or into our lives.”
Patrick purses his lips but eventually says, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having some of the same reservations.”
“If we adopted, we’d just be taking care of a child already in the world. Not bringing one into our mess.” Will gazes at him hopefully.
“But when I think of our child, I think of them looking like you,” Patrick confesses.
“And I think of them looking like you.”
Patrick laughs. “No. I’ve got alcoholism in my family and autism spectrum disorder and my skin burns in the sun. It should be you.”
“I’m an alcoholic with Type 1 diabetes and my whole family is insane. It should be you.”
“Maybe adoption,” Patrick concedes.
“Or maybe we stir our sperm up in a petri dish and let fate decide.”
“Sounds fun.” Patrick clears his throat. “Speaking of fun, I ran into your dad. He wants us to have dinner with them tomorrow night.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Good. We’re on the same page.”
Will pulls Patrick close and breathes all sweet and chocolaty in his ear. “I want to leave for Kauai tomorrow morning before dawn. I know that wasn’t the plan, and I know I said I wanted to stay here, but my parents are obviously bent on making me crazy.”
“I agree.” Patrick nuzzles him gently. He loves the way Will smells after sex—earthy and all his. “And let me tell you the next honeymoon we go on will be very different. It’ll be to Antarctica for the winter. No planes in or out. Just a lot of scientists I can geek out with and cute penguins for you to watch, puddin’-pop.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“It’s a plan.”
Will laughs and rolls his eyes, the sadness of earlier mostly dispelled. Patrick resolves to trash Will’s miserable book before morning too. If he needs something to read, he can check out Patrick’s awesome vampire book. Jenny was right. It is hot as hell and utterly ridiculous. It even has a gay vampire in it. It’s the perfect vacation read.
As honeymoons go, Patrick knows this one hasn’t been the most romantic in all of history, despite his planning and best efforts. Still, he wouldn’t want to be on a honeymoon with anyone else in the entire world. He’s only into this marriage thing at all because of his horrifyingly intense love for Will.
Patrick guesses he’s satisfied. It actually could have been worse. He doesn’t want to risk imagining just how, but he knows it could have been worse. At least they’ve had days of fucking and relaxing mixed in with the stress of Will’s parents’ mess. One day they’ll laugh about it. Probably.
Will kisses him and snuggles closer. Patrick falls asleep with a smile on his face and a warm sense of contentment sliding over him.
Yes, it could have been so much worse.