Isaac was dozing on the sofa, so I kissed him on the cheek and told him I wouldn't be long. Then Mark kissed him on the cheek and told him not to get up, he needed all the beauty sleep he could get.
Isaac mumbled, "Fuck you."
"Love you, Isaac," Mark sing-songed.
Isaac smirked, still pretending to be half-asleep. "Love you, too."
"Come on," I said, throwing his overnight bag into his chest. "Or you'll miss your train, and as much as I love you, you're not staying here another night. Isaac's liver can't handle you staying here any longer."
We'd gone into the city as suggested, had a beautiful dinner at some overpriced restaurant, then had agreed on one or two drinks at a cocktail lounge before moving on. But then they started playing jazz music and one or two cocktails turned into one or two cocktails too many and we never made it any further.
Hence the reason why Isaac was dozing on the sofa and not coming to the train station to say goodbye to Mark.
Isaac groaned, and pushed at Mark's face. "Carter," he whined. "Take him away."
Mark laughed and told me, "I think I broke your boyfriend."
I dragged him by the arm toward the door. "Leave him alone and get in the car."
On the way to the train station, Mark said, "You know, Isaac knows you don't like his friend."
I snorted. "Well, I never exactly hid it. And Isaac's very perceptive with me. He picks up on the slightest nuances in my voice."
"Yeah, I know," Mark said with a smile. "He doesn't miss much."
I wondered where he was going with this. "Did he say anything else about it? Did he say it bothered him? I mean, I haven't been out and out rude to Joshua."
"Nah, he just said it in conversation."
I slowed to a stop at a red light. "What else did he say about Joshua?"
Mark smirked at me. "He talked about you, mostly. Just how you call Joshua, Joshua. Not Josh. And how you don't call the house, home. He said you still refer to it as his place, not yours, even though you live there."
I was caught staring at Mark when the car behind me honked its horn at me. I slipped the Jeep into first and looking to the road, I pretended to concentrate on driving while I collected my thoughts. "He said that?"
Mark laughed. "Jesus, Carter. You just said before he's perceptive with you, and you're surprised he noticed things like that?"
"Well, I…" I stopped talking and just shook my head.
"You wanna tell me what that's about?"
"Um," I started. "Well, I call Joshua, Joshua, because that's his name and I don't like him."
Mark chuckled. "Okay, fair enough." Then he was serious. "And Isaac's house?"
"It's where I live, and I love it. I love living with him. I love the everyday things. But it's his house," I admitted. "It's all his things, mine are in storage."
"Carter…"
"I know, I know," I mumbled.
"He likes having you there," Mark said with a smile. "He might whine and bitch about it, like he does, but he loves it." Then he added, "Except for last week, when you and he fought."
"He told you about that?"
"Of course he did."
Jeez. They only went shopping to get the little tree and were gone for an hour. "Is there anything he didn't tell you?"
"Nope," Mark said with a grin. "He told me how you like to think of yourself as some kind of masterful top in bed, but how you really just love nothing more than a good fucking."
My mouth fell open. Isaac wouldn't say that. He just wouldn't. Surely. "He did not say that."
Mark roared laughing. "No, he didn't, but the way you blushed right now told me all I need to know."
I whacked him in the arm. "Fuck you."
"Not if you're suddenly the big, burly bottom."
I pulled the Jeep into a drop-off zone at the train station parking lot. I wasn't going to validate him with a comment, but I couldn't help myself. "We switch it up, okay?" I said, getting out of the Jeep.
Mark laughed and got out of the Jeep, pulling his bag from the backseat. I got out of the driver’s seat, but stood, leaning against my Jeep. Mark dropped his bag at my feet. "So, you gonna tell me what's really eating at you?"
"What do you mean?"
He shook his head. "You can't fool me, Car. I know when you've done something that's eating at you. Isaac might not see it, but I can."
Shit.
"I um…" I exhaled loudly. "I ah…"
"Oh, shit, Carter. What did you do?"
"I asked the police to run more checks on Joshua."
"You what?"
I took a deep breath and told him my reasoning. I explained how I thought it was just all too coincidental that Isaac had financial statements stolen at the same time this guy waltzes into his life, with promises of restoring his sight.
He could have lectured me for going behind Isaac's back, or he could have told me I was fucking stupid, and I wouldn't have argued. He'd have been right.
But he didn't. He was quiet. I could see a parking security guy looking at us, more than likely irritated that I was still parked where I shouldn’t have been parked at all. Then Mark sighed. "It does sound coincidental when you say it like that. But is that what you really think?" he asked. "Or is your dislike for the man clouding your judgment?"
"I had to do something," I said defensively. "If he's trying to hurt Isaac in any way…"
He nodded. "I get it, Carter. I understand that. Just don't expect Isaac to take the news well when he finds out you were the one who ratted on his friend."
"If Joshua is in any way involved, then I don't care. It'll be worth it."
"And if he's not?" Mark pressed. "If you've gone behind Isaac's back… Do you not remember the first six months of your relationship? You spent the entire time getting him to trust you, trust your judgment, getting him to trust Brady, and you could blow it in one go."
Fuck.
"I know," I whispered with a sigh. I ran my hands through my hair. "Fuck, Mark. What have I done?"
Before he could answer, the parking guy yelled out for us to move on. He hugged me, hard. "You're a good man, Carter. You'll be fine." He pulled back and kept his hands on my arms and smiled. "Now go home, spend the afternoon switching it up, or whatever you called it."
He grinned hugely. I told him it was good to see him, that it was good to have some laughs with him. He told me he couldn't believe he came to Boston and never got laid. I told him the men and women of Boston would call me later to thank me. He laughed, got on the train, and I watched it pull away. Mark had been a welcome distraction for Isaac and myself. We'd had such a good weekend, and I was a little hesitant to go back, in case things between us had gone back as well.
My phone beeped in my pocket, telling me I had a message. It was Mark. Don't just stand there. You look like an idiot.
I smiled at my phone.
When I got in my Jeep, it beeped again. It's not like you to lie, Carter. You need to tell him the truth.
I sighed. Fuck. Hannah said not to tell him unless he asks, Mark says to tell him. I wanted to reply to him, saying I didn't lie. I didn't blatantly tell him an untruth. But, I didn't divulge information that involved him, and to me, that was basically the same thing.
Mark was right. It wasn't like me to lie. I didn't want to tell Isaac because I knew he'd be so mad at me, and that was something I just didn't want. I didn't want to go back to fighting with him.
I didn't have a fucking clue what I was supposed to do.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to be the one to decide if Isaac knew or not.
Isaac was fine on Sunday night. Hungover, but happy. Too tired to read, he plugged in his screen reader, popped in one earphone and had his laptop read to him. More research, he said.
The perfect opportunity for me to bring up the conversation about what I'd done, how I'd told the police to investigate his friend, but I didn't.
I chickened out.
And again on the Monday. I picked Isaac up after work and he said Joshua had taken a call at work from a school he'd spent time with in New York. It wasn't uncommon for him to take follow-up calls from previous schools, but this sounded different, Isaac said.
"He sounded, I don't know, worried about it," Isaac said. "I asked him if everything was okay, and he said it was, but it didn't sound like it."
Shit. I tried to keep my tone as indifferent as possible. "Did he say what they were calling about?"
"From what I could make out, someone had called asking questions about him," Isaac told me. "In some official capacity. So the school called him to tell him they'd passed the caller on to Josh's head office to answer on his behalf and they were just calling to let him know."
"Oh."
"Yeah, anyway then his head office calls the school and spoke to them," Isaac went on to say. "I asked him what it was all about and he said there'd been a change to his next job or something about a new schedule or something to now include Chicago, he said he thought it was. Anyway, he won't be at school for the next two days."
"Isn't he nearly finished with your school anyway?" I asked. "Didn't he say that last time he was here?"
"He's tenured until we break for vacation, so this week and then next week," Isaac explained. "There's a lot involved in what he does. Setting all the equipment up is the easy part, but the integration software and teaching us all how to use it is a long process."
I had no doubt these phone calls were from the police, questioning the staff and even students of his previous schools to see if there were any others. This was the perfect time to bring up my involvement in it, but again, I couldn't do it.
I didn't want to upset Isaac. I didn't want to have him yell at me and hate me because of what I'd done. Like he'd said, Joshua wouldn't even be there for the next two days, and then next week would be his last at the school before he disappeared to Chicago and we never heard from him again.
I even thought if he was prepping for his next stint at another school for two days, and with only a week to go at Hawkins, he might finish up early. I was hoping he'd announce his work at Hawkins was done, and he'd be gone from our lives forever.
Which is why I was surprised to see his car parked in the front of Isaac's on Thursday. Isaac had said he'd cab it home if he had to, but he obviously didn't have to. Which meant Joshua was back at Hawkins. I wondered if he knew anything, if he somehow found out just who had pointed the finger at him.
Not knowing what kind of reception I'd get, I walked in to find them sitting in the living room. Over the back of the sofa, I put my hand on Isaac's shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "Hey," I said.
"Hey."
I looked over at Joshua, and keeping it polite, I smiled and said, "Hi."
"Hello," he said, a little too nicely.
I turned my attention back to Isaac, and looking down over his shoulder, I saw Mr Tiddles curled up on his lap. I walked around the sofa and sat down beside Isaac, and gave the cat a scratch under the ear. "How was your day?"
"Good," he answered. "Yours?"
"Yeah, good," I replied. "That little bulldog bitch I told you about came in. We're expecting her to birth in the next day or so."
Isaac smiled. "Oh, that's good!"
"I might do some laps," I told Isaac. "Then maybe after dinner I thought we could take the dogs for a walk."
Isaac snorted. "Well, you can walk Missy, but Brady and I will come with you." Isaac turned to face the direction Joshua was sitting and chuckled. "Carter thinks me taking Brady on his harness is 'walking the dog'."
I rolled my eyes for Joshua's benefit and playfully pinched Isaac in the ribs where he was ticklish. "I do not, and you know it."
Isaac jerked away from my hand, startling the cat. Isaac chuckled, petting the not-amused feline. "Don't. You'll upset Mr Tiddles. My job as the human heated seat for his royal highness is very important."
I laughed. "Yes, I can see he's found a use for you."
"Go swim," Isaac dismissed me, waving his hand in the general direction of the pool.
I smiled, a little pleased that Joshua bore witness to our silly banter. I stood up and put my wallet, phone and keys on the kitchen counter. "I feel like steak for dinner. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good," Isaac answered.
I walked toward the hall door to go get changed, and whether it was guilt or manners that got the best of me, I looked over to the man I couldn't stand. "Joshua, will you be staying for dinner?"
My invitation threw him. "Oh, um…"
Isaac smiled. "You can stay for dinner, Josh."
"Oh, well. Okay, if it won't be a problem."
I smiled at him, then walked down the hall to get changed, not sure what on earth just possessed me to ask a man I didn't like, to stay longer than he had to.
A few laps of the pool cleared my head a little, until Isaac walked out the back holding my ringing phone. "Carter?"
I stood up and ran my hands through my wet hair. Thinking it could be work calling about the bulldog whelping. "Can you answer it for me?"
"Um…" Isaac hesitated. It was a phone like his, he knew what to do to take the call. He put the phone to his ear. "Hello? Isaac Brannigan speaking."
I climbed out of the pool, roughed the towel over my hair then wrapped it around my waist and walked over to him. Isaac said, "No, he's here now. I'll just get him for you." He hesitated, looking a little confused, and handed me the phone. "It's Detective Zinberg."
Shit.
I took the phone. "Carter Reece speaking."
Isaac turned and walked back inside, so I sat down at the back patio table. "What can I do for you?" I asked, more for Isaac's benefit than the detective's.
"I wanted to inform you that we believe there's enough information for a preliminary investigation into Mr Lindstrom," he said. "We've made some phone calls to the last few schools he's been to, and there has been some… activity… with regards to other blind people having appointments with a doctor in South America. One person parted with money…"
"Oh, Jesus…" So it was the police who had called the school in New York asking for information on Joshua, a minor detail he neglected to tell Isaac. Then it really hit home that he'd done this to someone else. "Is that person okay? I mean, did they go to Argentina?"
"We're still looking into it at the moment," the detective said. "I'll be looking into any activity here in Boston, but it's out of my hands in New York State. But they're handling it. If we can prove anything illegal actually happened overseas, it'll be a matter for the FBI."
Jesus Christ.
"He's here, at Isaac's house, right now," I whispered into the phone.
"Dr Reece," the detective said into the phone. "I don't need to remind you this is an on-going investigation. As it stands right now, Mr Lindstrom has done nothing wrong, he simply works at a range of different schools for the blind, and offers information on outside services some people might find helpful. We have no records of financial transactions, and as such, Mr Lindstrom is innocent until proven otherwise." His tone was sharp and clear. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
"Yes," I said softly. My head was spinning. "Don't say anything to anyone."
"That's correct."
I nodded, though he couldn't see. "Okay."
"We'll be in touch," Zinberg said. "I'll let you know if we find anything."
"Okay," I mumbled. "Thanks."
I sat out the back for a while with Missy's head resting on my thigh, absently scratching the top of her head, thinking about what the police were now looking into. How it was my phone call that started it, how I was now implicated in it.
How I'd just taken any possible chance of Isaac having his sight restored—no matter how unlikely it seemed—and threw it away like it was nothing.
I knew right then I had to tell him.
I knew I had to man up and come clean, no matter how mad he was at me, I couldn't lie to him anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I walked back inside to find Joshua was just leaving. "Oh, are you not staying for dinner?"
Joshua looked at right at me. "I'd rather not," he said coldly. And with that, he walked out. I looked at the door he walked out of, shocked. Then I looked at Isaac who sat on the sofa, unmoving and silent. From the stoic look on his face, the way his jaw was set, I knew it wouldn't end well.
His voice was calm and quiet. "What did Detective Zinberg want?"
Walking over to the sofa, I sat down beside him and took his hand. And with a lump in my stomach and a pounding heart, I said, "Isaac, I have something to tell you."
He lifted his chin defiantly. "Does it have something to do with the police wanting to know about Josh and the work he did in New York?"
"You knew about that?"
"Yes, he told me." He kept his face away from mine. "Exactly why did Detective Zinberg need to talk to you about that?"
"Isaac, I phoned him the other day and asked him to look further into Joshua's past."
He jerked his face toward mine. "You what?" he asked, his voice so low I barely heard him.
"I wanted the police to see if there were any other people Joshua might have dealt with who were considering having this retinal regeneration surgery."
"You what?" he asked, louder this time.
"Isaac, I don't think Joshua is what he seems."
Isaac slowly pulled his hand from mine. "Do you realize what you've done?"
"I might have stopped someone else from being misled—"
"No," Isaac spat out, cutting me off. "You've more than likely just cost him his job."
"If he has nothing to hide—"
He stood up and took a few steps away from the sofa, he turned back to face me. "Carter, he works with kids for fuck's sake!" Isaac cried. "Do you know what that means, Carter? Do you even give a fuck? If the police so much as look like they're investigating him, for anything, his career is over."
His abrupt anger surprised me. "Isaac, please," I said, trying to keep my tone calm, rational. "Do you not think it's convenient that he comes into your life, you have financial documents stolen, and then he tries to convince you to pay to have a surgery done that might not even work?"
"No! I don't think that's convenient," he almost yelled at me. "What I think, is you can't stand to see me have friends aside from you."
"That's not true," I told him. "Isaac, Detective Zinberg said there's someone in New York who Joshua's also been trying to get to have this surgery."
"Of course there is," he cried, throwing his hands up and walking to the kitchen counter. "Josh told me about them. So someone else wants their vision back too, Carter." Then he yelled, "Is that a fucking crime?"
I stood up and faced him. "No, of course not," I yelled back at him. "But taking money from them for a product they can't deliver is."
"What the hell would you know?" he cried. He was really fucking mad. "You're a vet, not a doctor, you haven't read half the research this doctor has done."
"Claims to have done," I argued. "He claims. Anyone can get on the internet and claim to be anything!"
"You wouldn't understand—"
"And Joshua does?"
"His mother was blind!" Isaac spat back at me. "He understands more than you could possibly ever know."
Fuck. "I didn't know that," I said quietly.
"You don't know a lot of things," he sneered at me.
"Maybe if you told me everything…"
"Why?" he cried. "Why do you think I've not told you everything? Because you've been against this from the very beginning. I knew you'd hate the idea. I didn't even want to tell you at all, but Josh convinced me I should."
"What?" I asked, stunned. "Why would you not want to tell me?"
Isaac laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "You don't want me to have any surgery, because you like me blind. You like the fact you can be the hero and think you're the amazing, compassionate guy for pitying the blind man."
I took automatic steps toward him. "That's not true," I said softly. "You know damn well it's never bothered me."
"Well, it bothers me!" he yelled again, thumping his hand to his chest. "It fucking bothers me."
I shook my head and quickly walked over to him, and took his hand. "Isaac."
"Don't touch me," he said coldly, taking a small step back. He shook his head and his face paled. "It doesn't matter now."
I didn't understand. "What doesn't matter, baby? Of course it matters."
He shook his head and took another small step away from me. "No, it doesn't. Not anymore. It's over."
Was he talking about Joshua? "It is over, Isaac, because if he's involved in this, if he's gone out of our lives for good, then it's over."
"No… I mean us."
"What?"
"You heard."
"Isaac…"
His voice was soft, and very resigned. "No. No, Carter. You lied to me. You went behind my back. I can't trust you. And if we don't have trust…"
"Isaac, please. It's not about you and me. Joshua was up to no good since the day you met him. I wish you could see that."
"I'm blind, Carter! I can't see it!" he yelled. "All I can see is how he's been friendly, and honest with me, which is more than I can say for you. He's offering ways to help me, while you've been nothing but jealous! Jealous over every little thing."
"I am not!"
"You are! You can't stand that I have a guy friend that isn't you. It's suffocating!"
"That's not true," I said weakly.
"It is so, Carter. You know, just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'll tolerate you trying to control who I can and can't have as friends, Carter. You never liked Josh and you couldn't stand to see me with him."
"You know what?" I asked. My own anger surprised me. "No, I didn't like him. He'd be as nice as pie to you, then sneer at me. He was an asshole when you weren't around, and I'm not fucking sorry he's gone."
Isaac's jaw clenched. And the infamous Isaac Brannigan temper flared. I hadn't seen his true, hurtful temper in almost a year. He squared his shoulders and smiled. "Is that why Paul ended up in bed with another man?"
His question floored me. It hit me like a fucking truck. Isaac knew all about my ex, and he knew exactly how hurt I was by what Paul did. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I could barely talk. "What?"
Isaac sneered at me. "Is that why he cheated on you? Because you suffocated him? You were trying to control who his friends were, who he could talk to? So he fucked someone else in your bed?"
My stomach fell through my feet. Isaac always had a way with hurtful words, to aim for the heart, to aim to kill.
He didn't miss with me.
I couldn't speak. I could barely think. Without another word, I took my wallet and keys off the counter and picked up Missy's lead. My dog bounded over to me, like she always does, and I hooked the lead to her collar.
"Good. Go," Isaac said coldly. "I don't want you here."
I couldn't even reply. The words wouldn't come. I took Missy, got into my Jeep and left. I was too angry to cry, though his words tore at me. I knew he was mad, and I knew he had every right to be, but the words that came out of his mouth crossed a very real fucking line for me.
I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea where I could go. All my belongings were in storage, save my clothes and a few things I had at Isaac's. The truth was, I didn't have anywhere else to go.
So I wasn't surprised when I found myself in a familiar driveway. I stared at the house for a little while, not sure of what to do. I was so fucking angry, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to cry.
I opened my car door, and Missy and I got out. I walked hesitantly to the front door, wondering what on earth I'd say.
Hannah opened the door, looked at me, down to my dog then back to me. "Carter?"
I nodded, as the first of my tears fell. "I don't have anywhere else to go."