Chapter Thirty

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The following day dawned gray and gloomy as if it understood the devastation within Drew’s heart. It took him until late afternoon to work up the courage to go to Jordan’s home, and Drew cursed himself for being a coward. Neither Ash nor Rachel could offer him any comfort or sage words of advice. This was a road he’d have to travel alone.

With trepidation, he exited the cab and mounted the stairs to Jordan’s Chelsea brownstone, practicing what he planned to say to his life-long best friend. Shit, he’d never been this nervous before and despite Ash’s reassurance it would work out, Drew knew Jordan’s capacity for grudge-holding and wasn’t so sure.

He pressed the doorbell, and heard the chimes resonating within. Bouncing on his toes, he swallowed his nerves and plastered a smile on his face as he heard footsteps approach. The door rattled and opened. It wasn’t Jordan who greeted him but Mike.

“How’s Jordan?”

Mike’s normally cheerful face darkened. “It’s bad. Really bad. He won’t talk and won’t eat. Come on in.”

Drew trailed behind Mike, following him down the long hallway which he knew opened up into the large country kitchen at the back of the house. One might think it was a normal get-together, except when the entered the kitchen and Drew looked over Mike’s shoulder at the farmhouse table across the room, bouquets of flowers and sympathy baskets crowded the surface.

Mike stopped and stepped aside. “Jordan. It’s Drew.”

“Hey, Jordan.” Drew walked over to his friend who sat motionless in his chair. His usual impeccably styled blond hair lay in lank strands across his forehead and from the wrinkles in his shirt and pants, Drew would hazard a guess he’d slept in them. When Jordan met Drew’s eyes, it was all he could do not to gasp out loud. In all the years he’d known Jordan he’d never seen him in such pain. His normally sharp and bright blue eyes stared back vacantly, all life drained out of them.

“Jordan?” Drew put a hand on his arm, only to have Jordan draw back, visibly flinching from the contact.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry Drew, but you shouldn’t have come.”

Drew staggered backward; if Jordan had hit him with his fist, he wouldn’t be in as much pain. “What are you talking about? Of course I should—where else would I be?”

“It’s too soon for me.”

“But I love you and Keith. I want to be here to help you through it all.” Drew took a tentative step back toward his best friend.

At the mention of Keith’s name, Jordan shuddered and made no effort to wipe the tears streaming from his eyes. He stood so abruptly, his chair clattered backward onto the terra cotta floor.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Drew. Go home.” He walked out of the kitchen.

Coldness washed through him at Jordan’s detached manner. In a daze, he watched Jordan’s retreating back, barely registering Mike picking up the toppled chair.

“He hates me.”

“What?” Mike stood in front of him. “Did you say something?”

“Did he talk about me, or say anything about me to you?” Drew leaned against the granite countertop and clasped his trembling hands together.

The guarded expression on Mike’s face told Drew all he needed. “I see. I knew it. I told Ash, Jordan would blame me for Keith’s death.”

“Give him time. It’s only been a day. He’ll come around. You can’t blame yourself. No one expected those guys to have a gun; that’s why Keith took the risk going after them without a vest.”

“I thought I’d be able to handle it on my own. You understand, don’t you? They hurt my grandmother and threatened her again. I couldn’t sit around and do nothing.”

Jordan had stopped in the hallway by the stairs and stood staring at the wall of photographs. He took down one Drew knew was of him and Keith on the day Keith received his detective shield. Jordan traced his fingers over the surface of the glass and Drew’s heart shattered at the pain etched on Jordan’s pain.

Mike squeezed his arm. “It isn’t going to help Jordan or you to talk about it right now. Let him get through the next few days and then the funeral. It’s barely had a chance to sink in that Keith’s not coming home.”

At Mike’s words, Drew’s eyes welled up; but he spoke the truth. Keith’s presence could be felt everywhere and Drew half-expected him to show up at the front door with a smile. The enormity of Jordan’s loss hit him, leaving him stunned and breathless. In one second, Jordan’s whole world had been snatched from him; the shape and plane of his entire future irrevocably altered. Drew could hardly blame him for his zombie-like state.

Thinking back to his conversation with Ash the other day, Drew made a decision. “You’re right. I’m not going to push him. It isn’t about me, it’s about helping Jordan. I’m going to step back and support him any way I can. Right now, that’s being there whenever he needs me.”

Mike slung an arm around his neck. “That’s the best thing any of us can do.”

Yet deep in his heart, Drew knew it wouldn’t be as easy as he and Mike made it out to be. Drew’s instincts were proven correct, when he went to give Jordan a hug goodbye and he stood there stiff and unyielding.

“Bye, Jordy. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Jordan turned away. “My parents are coming in; they got a flight. I’ll see you at the funeral.” He walked up the stairs, his back straight and stiff.

Defeated, Drew zipped up his jacket and hurried out of Jordan’s house without even saying goodbye to Mike. For close to an hour he wandered the streets of the city blindly, ignoring text messages and phone calls. He hadn’t felt this lost and alone since his parents died. And though Ash had helped him see their deaths weren’t his fault, it was hard not to make the correlation that once again he’d fucked up. Perhaps his family and friends would be better off if he simply disappeared.

Chilled and heartbroken, he found himself close to Ash’s office and decided to pay him a visit. Ash and Jordan may not have gotten along, but Ash understood better than anyone about loss and pain. He pushed through the revolving glass doors and welcomed the enveloping warmth. The elevator whisked him up to the thirtieth floor and he entered the law office suite. A spurt of pride hit him at all Ash had made out of himself.

“Hello, Dr. Klein. Mr. Davis is in a meeting. Was he expecting you?”

Ash’s secretary, Laura, gave him a smile over her pink, cats-eye glasses. Despite his bleak mood, Drew returned her smile. “No. I was in the neighborhood and hoped he might be winding down for the day and that we could go home together.” He sat into one of the comfortable chairs in the reception room. “I can wait.”

Laura’s face softened. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”

If he spoke he might cry, so Drew simply nodded and picked up a magazine to hide behind. He couldn’t humiliate himself any further today. Perhaps Laura sensed his unease for she left him alone, while he pretended to read. Voices filtered from down the hallway and he recognized Ash’s.

“Drew?”

He looked up to see Ash standing several feet away, a quizzical tilt to his dark brows.

“Hi. I was in the neighborhood…” The excuse sounded weak even to him.

Skepticism clouded Ash’s eyes but he refrained from speaking. He shook hands with the two men standing next to him and walked them out. Drew took the time to draw several deep breaths, inexplicably nervous and stood by his chair. Maybe he should leave. This was a dumb idea.

The door opened and Ash reappeared. “Come on into my office. Laura, I don’t have anything else scheduled, right?”

“No.”

“Good. Hold all my calls, please.” He turned to Drew, “Follow me.” He walked away.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should leave. This is your office and I’m intruding.”

Ash stopped in his tracks and turned around, an incredulous look on his face. “Intruding? Are you serious?” Concern puckered his brow. “Wait. You went to see Jordan.”

That flat statement cut through Drew. Ash understood.

“Yeah.”

“Come here.” Ash beckoned and Drew complied, finding himself taken around and held. “Was it bad?”

Drew nodded into Ash’s shoulder. “He hates me.”

Ash pulled him away to stare into his face. “He told you that? Even I can’t imagine Jordan saying that to you.”

“He didn’t have to.”

“Come, let’s go inside.” With his arm still around Drew’s shoulder, Ash led him into his office and closed the door behind him. “Sit.” He pointed to the comfortable leather sofa and Drew complied. Ash joined him a moment later, handing him a cup of cold water.

“Now tell me everything he said.”

“That’s just it, he didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t talk to me. I know Jordan. It’s him trying to be nice because if he did talk to me he’d tell me how much he hates me for getting Keith killed.” Drew gulped down the water and held the empty cup in his hand. “You can dress it up all you want, but he’s right. I wish it had been me who got shot.” He viciously crumpled the cup.

“I see,” said Ash staring at him. “You think that would make things better?”

Drew shrugged. “It couldn’t be any worse.”

Ash pulled out his phone and after tapping on it, stood and got his coat from the closet. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

He hadn’t the strength to argue and didn’t much care. Drew knew the truth. He followed Ash out of the office and into the elevator where they rode in silence. When they exited the building a black car waited for them at the curb.

“Get in.”

Drew scrambled into the back seat, Ash sliding in next to him, then he slammed the door shut and they took off. Ash’s stony profile reminded Drew of those early days, when the two of them barely spoke and his chest hurt, thinking of a life without Ash. It would be no life at all.

But sometimes sacrifices needed to be made for others to live free. Rachel had Mike now and they’d most likely be getting married. And Ash? Drew loved him more than he thought possible but Ash deserved someone strong, a man who could be a true partner and lover. He didn’t need someone who consistently hurt everyone around him.

Before he realized it, they were in Brooklyn and he recognized the route they were driving. He had no desire to come here now.

“Why are we here?”

The car pulled up in front of his grandmother’s house and stopped. Ash opened the door and stepped out, waiting for him to follow. The front door to the house opened and Drew’s heart sank, knowing he had to go inside, now that his grandmother knew they were there. Defeated, he scrambled out of the car and walked past Ash.

“You bastard.”

He placed a smile on his face and greeted his grandmother.

“Nana, let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly; it’s almost November.”

“I know, and I’m not a hothouse flower, you know.” She kissed his cheek and scanned his face. “Yes, Asher was right, come with me.”

Scowling at Ash, who’d joined him on the porch, he nevertheless followed his grandmother into the warm house, to the kitchen in the back.

“Sit down.”

The table was set with a coffee pot, cups and milk, and a platter of cookies.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture or cookies, I’m afraid. I don’t know what Ash told you, but—”

“He doesn’t have to tell me anything. I’ve known you since the day you were born and seen you grow up, always taking on the pain of everyone around you.”

“This is different.”

“Really?” Ash slid into the chair next to him and poured himself a cup of black coffee. “Not half an hour ago you said you wished you had gotten shot and not Keith.”

A spoon clattered to the table and he watched as tears filled his grandmother’s eyes.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Why did you say that?” He glared at Ash. “You knew how upset she’d get.”

“Exactly for that reason. Because you have to know that wishing you were dead would kill your grandmother as well. It would devastate Rachel and me, and everyone else who loves you.”

“I can’t help it. The guilt is killing me. It’s like a snake winding around me, constricting every move I make. I can’t take a deep breath; it’s choking me.”

“Baby, come here.” Ash took him in his arms and held him close. “Talk it out. Don’t let it eat you up inside.”

The one place he’d found his peace had been with Ash, yet even now, the pain of his guilt remained as bright and sharp as when his parents died.

“Darling, you must stop this.” His grandmother put her soft hand on his. “Losing yourself in blame doesn’t make the pain go away. Jordan’s grief is so fresh and raw, he can’t deal with his feelings about you yet. Let him bury poor Keith first.”

Talking about burying Keith seemed surreal, when Drew could hear his voice and see his smiling face clearly in his mind.

“I never know the right thing to do.”

“Who does, when someone dies?” Ash rubbed his hand in comforting circles. “I could blame myself for suggesting the party in the first place. Any of us could find a reason to blame ourselves. You want to know what’s really to blame?”

Drew gazed up into Ash’s eyes, surprised at the passionate tone of his voice. “What?”

“Illegal guns. Those kids who killed Keith couldn’t have done it without access to getting an illegal handgun. Guns are much too easy to buy. They get transported across state lines and wind up in the hands of petty criminals and people with mental disorders. Background checks are sketchy at best half the time. But get the gun laws changed and the guns off the streets and the death rate, especially in poor communities, would go down.”

“Intellectually I know you’re right. But when I come face to face with Jordan all I want to do is beg him to forgive me.”

“Let it go now. But be there for him. Love him and show him you care.” His grandmother wiped her eyes. “That boy is going to need all our help to get himself through this horrible time.” She fixed him with a direct stare, her expression strained. “And don’t you ever, ever think you’re a burden to us or we’d be better off without you. I’ve had enough loss in my life.” Tears rained down her cheeks. “I can’t bear anymore.”

Stricken, he slipped out of Ash’s arms and knelt by his grandmother’s chair. “Nana, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I don’t want to hear you didn’t want to upset me. I want you to promise you’ll stop thinking this way. Nothing in the world means more to me than you and Rachel and Asher. Losing you children would take a piece of my heart.” She took his hand and held it fiercely tight.

“I didn’t mean it. I felt sorry for myself, and didn’t think of the consequences.”

He returned to his chair and Ash took his hand. “For years when I hurt myself I did it deliberately, without caring about myself or anyone else. Who would’ve cared if I died—I had only myself to think about. But, I couldn’t take that final step because I didn’t want to die without doing everything I could to find Luke and Brandon.”

“We’re going to find them. You know where Luke lives. It’s only a matter of time now.”

Ash smiled and Drew recalled how when they’d first met, his eyes remained a blank wall. Now they glittered with life and purpose.

“And If I had died without finding you, none of it would have mattered. I won’t let you fall into the blackness I once lived in.”

He kissed Ash’s cheek and wrapped his arms around him. Life was so much more precious now with Ash by his side. He needed to never lose sight of everything he had and not concentrate on what he’d lost.

“I love you,” he murmured into Ash’s neck, inhaling his wonderful, dearly familiar smell. “As much as it hurt me thinking about what I did, being alone, without you beside me now would be far, far worse.”

Regrets were merely memories of a past he couldn’t change—a past he’d constantly beaten down the devil to conquer. But with Ash by his side to love and loving him, Drew was ready to fight any battle necessary.