TWO MORNINGS later, Gray closed the door behind Detective Carter, appreciating the man was less than pleased with Seb’s secrecy, even though he could understand he assumed Arron would pass it on if he saw fit. Carter confirmed they had not found any notes in Arron’s belongings, so he had either given them to someone else or they had been destroyed.
Seb begged Gray not to call Carter until after his father left for his ski trip to Deer Creek early that morning, and Gray one hundred percent agreed with that. Derwent was taking Armitage to the airport, then wouldn’t be back until evening. Danny was doing what he could on the computer, and Rawlings was talking to the FBI in case they could come up with any named groups in the area. Rawlings would also arrange for Armitage and Mrs. Pickering to be safe without them knowing.
Gray headed to the kitchen to follow Seb. He hoped Seb was hungry because, thanks to Carter and the rest of the phone calls, it was already nearly three in the afternoon, and breakfast was a very distant memory. They’d skyped with Ray Samms earlier. Ray had been funny and helpful. Not that Ray said anything different from what Gray had said, but Gray liked the fact that his advice had been validated by a professional. Ray asked Seb to arrange to get blood tests done and was sending him to an independent doctor friend of his. Seb really seemed to like that as well. After the holidays when Ray saw the results, they would get together. Ray shared some general stories with Gray and then wished them a happy Thanksgiving and ended the call.
Seb was peering into the open fridge door and glanced at Gray as he walked into the room. “I think Mrs. P thought she was feeding most of Atlanta.”
Gray came to stand next to him, and he chuckled at the packed shelves. “What do you feel like eating?” He nudged Seb for his attention and repeated the question.
Seb grinned. “Well….” He drew out the word. “We can have a chicken stir-fry, any sort of pasta you like, salad, pot roast, or,” he said with a grin, “we could have french toast and bacon.” Seb picked up the pack and waggled his eyebrows. Gray’s stomach growled, and he clutched it.
Seb arched an eyebrow. “I take that to mean your stomach just growled. Lucky I can’t hear it.” He winked.
Gray held out a hand for the bacon, but Seb shook his head. “I got this. You take a seat.” Gray did exactly as he was told, then jumped back up and refilled the coffee, ignoring Seb’s chuckles. He sat back down again and watched as Seb expertly mixed the eggs for the french toast. Seb glanced at Gray. “Did you know Julius Caesar probably ate this?”
Gray paused as he was just about to sip his coffee, somewhat thrown by the question. “Huh?”
Seb nodded. “Early fifth century A.D. It was called pan dulcis, which was changed to pain perdu in the English court of King Henry.” Seb smiled. “Lost bread. Lost because it was a way of using up hardened or stale loaves. It’s called a ton of things now. French toast, German toast, eggy bread, but it’s basically the same as it was when it was eaten by Roman soldiers.”
Gray smiled. Seb was different today. Smiling, relaxed. He’d done the exercises this morning to put a flush in his cheeks, borne the brunt of Carter’s frustration with ease, and hadn’t shown any signs of a headache. In fact, despite the note, he was like a different person, much more relaxed. Was it because they had the place to themselves? He wondered how much constant pressure Seb was under, living here.
Derwent had called earlier and said he was staying out with friends, which again was totally okay with Gray. Seb expertly flipped the toast onto a plate and added a generous five pieces of bacon. He carried the syrup over and put the lot in front of Gray.
“I can practically feel my cholesterol levels tripling,” Gray mused, not giving a shit. Seb served himself and sat down opposite him.
They munched in silence for a few minutes, and then Seb looked up, swallowing. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you here tomorrow.”
Gray picked up his coffee. “I don’t have any plans. There’s just me and my sister now.” Seb gazed at Gray’s face, obviously waiting for more. Gray cursed to himself. He’d rather have kept the lid on this can of worms. He pushed at his empty plate. Straightened his fork. Put down his coffee cup. He picked it up again and realized it was empty, but he didn’t have the balls to avoid the question anymore and go refill it.
“I’ve barely seen Pink in four years. She—” But a hand on his arm stopped him, and he looked at Seb.
“Did you just say Pink?”
Gray scrubbed his face but smiled half-heartedly. “My sister is actually called Pauline after my mom’s older sister, who died when she was, like, three or four maybe? Anyways, Pink really hated the name. Said it wasn’t fair that I had a really cool color name and she didn’t, so Pauline became ‘Pink’ when she was around six. It got to the point where Mom and Dad had to actually add it at school because she wouldn’t answer to Pauline.” Gray shrugged and watched Seb push the last of his uneaten toast around his plate, knowing the next question that was coming.
“How come you haven’t seen her?”
Gray considered avoiding the question, but knew it wasn’t fair. “Because I killed her husband.”
Seb’s fork clattered down on his plate, and Gray waited for all the questions, the alarm, the fear, the mistrust. But instead Seb gazed at Gray and just waited. The waiting screamed louder than any words could have.
Aubrey.
Aubrey hadn’t just been in his unit. He had been Gray’s brother-in-law for all of seventeen months. “Pink was married to one of my best friends. He was in my unit, and he died nearly five years ago.” Gray had even introduced Aubrey to Pink when he’d had found out Aubrey had no family and they were on leave at Thanksgiving. He’d dragged Aubrey home with him because he didn’t want him to be on his own. Seven years ago Gray had still been into the family shit.
Seb still didn’t say anything. Gray shifted restlessly; the pressure to keep talking was enormous. Funny, despite him having training to do the exact opposite, the shy hopeful smile Seb had worn that morning made Gray desperate to keep it there. “When I got home I didn’t know what to say.” You couldn’t say sorry for something so awful. It should have been him. No one needed him.
“I can’t imagine,” Seb said quietly, but as Gray raised his eyes to look at Seb, he knew that was a lie. Not a deliberate one maybe, but a lie all the same. Seb knew. Every dark shadow in his eyes told Gray that Seb knew. It was something a person could only share with someone who had known such devastating loss. Others could sympathize, empathize, but it was never really the same.
Gray had stared into so many eyes with that same look.
And Gray couldn’t seem to hold it back, and all his shameful story came spilling out. How their small unit had been betrayed but how Gray had been responsible for giving the final go-ahead. He was in charge. It had been him. All him. Rawlings had tried to tell him afterward when he visited Gray in the hospital that he’d have made the same decision, but it didn’t matter. Aubrey had given up. Gray still believed if he had managed to keep him going out there, Aubrey would have come home with him and Danny. Battered maybe, but Pink would have been there for her husband, and his sister was a force of nature.
His niece, born one month after Aubrey’s death, would be exactly the same.
Except Gray had hardly seen her, so he couldn’t say.
“We lost our mom first. She’d been sick for a while, but I thought she’d gotten through it. I was deployed and on a job I couldn’t leave. As soon as it was through and I found out, I came home, but it was too late.” He’d even missed the funeral. “I never knew my dad was an alcoholic. He kept it hidden from everyone. I don’t even know if Mom knew, but he managed to hide it from me and Pink during the month I stayed before I had to return. We didn’t know anything was wrong until Pink tried to call him for a couple of days. When she hadn’t gotten a reply, she called his work, and his old boss told her Dad had been fired the month before. Apparently he’d been stopped by the cops and was over the limit, but he drove for a living, and losing his license meant losing his job.”
Gray fell silent. He’d forgotten how much it hurt. Forgotten how much he had let everyone down. He felt the slight squeeze of Seb’s fingers on his arm and focused on them and drawing oxygen into his lungs around his tightened throat. This touching thing had developed by surprise in a matter of days. He touched Seb, and Seb touched him, and it felt okay, which was odd and wrong. Dangerous in so many ways. Wanting to fuck a guy was one thing, but wanting anything else was a huge rabbit hole he was steering clear of.
He glanced down at where his hand was resting on the table and where Seb’s hand had slid over it, and he didn’t seem able to pull it away. Didn’t want to pull it away. He swallowed. “Pink lived in Knoxville then, but managed to get one of his old work colleagues to go check on him. He’d fallen down the stairs.” Gray rubbed at his eyes. Dad had been dead for hours, probably over a day, and no one knew. He’d lain there and died on his own because Gray was thousands of miles away fighting for other people’s fathers instead of making sure his own was safe. He would never forgive himself for that. He imagined Pink would never forgive him either. After that, war had seemed a safer option than facing what he’d lost at home.
“I’m sorry,” Seb whispered and squeezed Gray’s hand again before he withdrew his own.
They sat for a few seconds while Gray tried to close off the pain that threatened to overtake him.
“I would have loved a sister.”
Gray raised his eyes to look at Seb. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been able to face Pink since he had gotten her husband killed and let his dad down so badly. He’d talked to her on the phone a few times, and she had visited him in rehab. Even when he had been unable to get to Aubrey’s memorial, she had come to him, but he hadn’t known what to say. He was a shitty son and an even worse brother.
“I have a niece.” Gray started in surprise as the words seemed to jump from his mouth without thought. He hadn’t meant to say that at all.
“Yeah?” Seb smiled. “How old is she?”
“Four and a half. She’s called Tabitha, after her grandma. My mom was called Tabitha, and her middle name is Anne, after Aubrey’s mom.” He’d seen pictures but had always made excuses that he couldn’t visit because he was working, until Pink had eventually stopped asking, until she had called last week.
“Do they live in Atlanta?”
Gray shook his head. He needed to say the rest of his shameful story, but what was the point?
“Do you have any other family? I’m sorry I never asked if you were married or had a girlfriend or anything.”
Seb lowered his gaze as if not waiting for the reply. Why? If Seb wanted to know, why wasn’t he looking at him? Gray played all the scenarios through in his brain. Told himself not to go there for so many reasons, and then thought about how he had lectured himself about giving Seb no reason to trust him. He touched Seb’s arm lightly and waited until Seb raised his eyes to look at him. “I’m not, no—but it would be a boyfriend not a girlfriend.”
Gray held his breath as the pause between them lengthened. For what seemed forever, Gray seriously wondered if he would ever take another one. “I was never at home for long enough. Then I guess it got easier to just be on my own.” His lips twisted. “Less likely to screw things up.” He stood up, his legs a little shaky, and risked looking over.
Seb nodded as if making a decision. “Do you want anything else to eat?” he asked and went to pick up his plate.
“No, thank you,” Gray replied firmly.
“Would you do something for me?” He took the plates to the sink to rinse and glanced over his shoulder at Gray, obviously waiting for an answer.
He would do anything.
“Will you listen to me play something?”
“Play?” Gray repeated in confusion as he got up and walked to where Seb could see him as he rinsed the plates.
“The piano. I’m writing this song, and I never get the chance to see what someone else thinks.”
Gray nodded slowly. “Although I’m tone-deaf and can’t sing a note.” He thought about his music tastes and realized he didn’t have any particularly. He never listened to music for pleasure. Sure, the radio played on base sometimes, and he generally had it on in the car, but he never cared what it was.
Seb grinned. “Yeah, but you can hear. So how about I sing, and you listen?”
“Sounds good to me,” Gray agreed and followed him upstairs. He made sure everything was locked and the video feeds were all working fine. Seb walked over to the small fridge in the corner of his room that had arrived that morning and got out two bottles of water, then passed one to Gray. Gray smiled in approval and sipped his while Seb arranged his notes in front of the piano. Gray glanced out the window at the miserable day. It had been overcast and raining on and off all afternoon. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was dark in another hour. It was already four o’clock.
Gray sat on the couch and listened as Seb played a few notes of something that seemed vaguely familiar. Seb hummed and then sang a couple of lines. For all he didn’t listen to music much, Gray recognized the song instantly. It had been very popular with a boy band that had won some sort of talent show.
“What do you think?” Seb turned to him.
Gray shrugged. “I recognized it of course, but I’d rather hear something of yours like the one you sang yesterday.”
Seb chuckled. “That one was more my thing, yes, but I wrote them both.”
Gray stared at Seb in shock. “You wrote ‘Yesterday’s News’?”
“And ‘Where You Go,’ ‘Take Me Back,’ and ‘Tomorrow.’”
“Tomorrow?”
“Blake Derr,” Seb replied, naming a very famous country-and-western singer. Gray had heard of the guy but never listened to his music.
Gray leaned back, stunned, and thought hard about what he was learning about Seb, and he was amazed. Seb was talented, seriously talented, and Gray was sure it was only Seb’s lack of confidence that was stopping him having a chart-topping record himself.
“I’m surprised you bother with the translations,” Gray mused half to himself.
Seb shrugged. “Steady paycheck.”
Gray opened his mouth to ask why the hell, with all his and his father’s money, Seb needed to consider that, but the words died on his lips. It wasn’t his business. Keeping Seb safe was his business, and all the rest were things not his concern. Temporary. All the jobs were temporary. That’s how he liked it.
It was just getting harder at the moment to remember that.
Seb had turned back to the piano and was singing “Boundaries.” It was the one from yesterday, and Gray listened intently to the words.
You never touch me how I need to feel
You never tell me what I need to hear
Gray sat and let the words wash over him and tried not to squirm. Every note Seb played seemed to come from somewhere deep inside. Every word he sang screamed loneliness, frustration. Gray had never met anyone who needed to be heard so fucking badly, and Gray ached to give him that. He stood up and walked over to the piano stool. Seb hadn’t put the headphones on, and his eyes were closed. He was in his own little world, and somehow for some ridiculous reason Gray couldn’t put a name to, he didn’t want Seb to be in there on his own anymore. He knew Seb would feel him sit at the piano. Seb’s voice changed almost to a whisper, and his hands slowed to picking out the occasional note.
“Ever played the piano?” Seb didn’t open his eyes, so Gray didn’t bother answering him.
Slowly, breathlessly, Gray rested his right hand over Seb’s and felt Seb’s fingers moving underneath him. He closed his eyes and tried to follow Seb’s dexterous fingers, but in the end, he just relaxed and gave Seb his hand’s full weight and let him take it where he wanted. Gray would have loved to do the other one, but he couldn’t reach, so his left hand he set gently onto Seb’s thigh. Seb changed the music and started singing something else Gray had never heard. If he had to guess, it was a lullaby, and he remembered Seb telling him he had learned to play from following his mom’s hands while he was small. The thought that Seb was including Gray in what must be such a powerful memory for him was humbling. He could feel the muscles under his left hand harden as Seb pressed the pedals. Gray was torn between not daring to move and needing to jump away because any second his fingers would slide higher up Seb’s leg, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. If he concentrated really hard, he could keep them still.
“Gray?”
Gray’s eyes focused on the luminous green ones staring at him. Seb’s hands were still, but Gray’s right one curled over Seb’s fingers, and his other clutched Seb’s thigh. They were plastered together. Hip to shoulder. Warm minty breath wafted over him as Seb was so close when he spoke. “Did you like it?”
Gray nearly said what, and then realized what he was supposed to be doing. He cleared his throat and moved his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to stand up, though. “You are incredibly talented.” Gray watched the faint flush appear on Seb’s throat.
“Really?” Seb’s eyes were sparkling, and Gray was lost.
He was seconds away from leaning forward and brushing his lips over Seb’s. Gray needed to move, but just as the thought formed, the decision was taken away from him, because Seb closed the gap and kissed him. Not that he would have called the too-hesitant, softly brushed, barely there glance a kiss, but as Seb drew back not even an inch from his face, it was enough for Gray to follow, chasing the hesitation, the warmth, the whispered moan that flew all the way to his groin and settled there.
Gray closed his eyes and copied the shy movement from Seb. If there was even a second of pause from Seb, it would be enough to stop him. Gray wouldn’t hurt him for the world. He was here to protect—
Gray yanked himself away and nearly fell over as he stumbled away from the piano. Protect. Seb was a client, even if the other obvious reasons weren’t enough of a deterrent, not least his age.
Gray dragged a shaky hand over his face. “I’m—”
“If you’re going to apologize, I will steal your gun and shoot you with it.”
Gray opened his eyes wide at the anger in Seb’s voice, but even as he stared, Seb relaxed and gave him a hesitant smile.
“I don’t need to be able to hear to understand that sort of message.” Seb’s gaze fell to the large bulge in Gray’s jeans. “And I’m not blind either.”
“But—” This time Gray snapped his mouth closed over the sentence. Seb was intelligent. He didn’t need Gray to point out why this was such a bad idea. “It’s a line I won’t cross,” he said simply. “Not while I work for your father.” He counted his own heartbeats while he waited for Seb to acknowledge his words. When the small nod of Seb’s head came, Gray would never ever admit he was a little disappointed.