A Cowboy's Home (30 page)

“Yes,” she agreed immediately, although she
had tears tracking down her cheeks and was clinging to Gabe,
hard.

“I don’t know you well,” Jay pointed out.
“But I love Ethan, and by extension his brother will always have my
support.”

“You don’t know me!” Justin shouted, and Jay
flinched. “I deliberately let David fall to his death.”

Ethan growled and took a step closer,
“Because he hurt Adam, if I’d been there on top of that building, I
would have let him fall as well.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Justin snapped. “You’re
a good man. Not like me, no one has any cause to hate you like they
hate me.”

Marcus was openly crying. “We don’t hate you,
son. We want you home.”

Nate and Gabe exchanged looks, Nate pulling a
shocked Luke into his side.

“I can’t speak for my brothers,” he said
gently, “But whatever your past, whatever you did, we’ll try to
understand it.”

“Agreed,” Gabe said. “I just want you home
again, like Adam.”

Justin stared at his friend, at the man who
sounded broken. “I missed you, Gabe,” he said, with as much honesty
as he could muster.

“I missed you, too,” Gabe said. “The three of
us now, back together, you, me, Adam; we could learn to be friends
all over again.”

“I want that,” Justin murmured, and for the
first time in a long time he realized he was speaking the truth. He
needed family, he wanted friends, and he had to be with Sam.

He just had to be.

The only one who hadn't said anything, and
the most important of all, was Adam.

“Adam?” Justin asked, uncertainly.

“I don’t hate you,” Adam said. They weren’t
much in the way of words but the tone he used, and the emotion that
was in every syllable had Justin relaxing a little.

“Thank you,” Justin whispered.

Then everyone seemed to feel like talking was
done, and everyone was silent.

Until Luke broke the tension. “Does anyone
want the last of the bacon?”

Sam watched Justin and Ryan talking. Everyone
else had left Branches, heading to work or home, but Ryan had
stayed. Justin and the sheriff were deep in discussion. Sam took
them coffee but didn’t interrupt; instead he cleaned counters as he
waited for them to finish.

When Ryan left, calling goodbye as he went
out into the daylight, Justin came to sit on one of the stools in
the kitchen area.

“Okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Ryan just needed all the minute
detail.”

“Why? Is that a good thing? What if you told
him too much?”

Justin tugged him close to stand between his
legs, holding him still. Sam held his hands up and out of the way
because they were wet.

“He has my back, although I think Aaron’s in
shit for not telling his brother what was going on in the
cabin.”

Sam sank into Justin’s hold, placing his wet
hands on Justin’s T-shirt and not regretting it for a minute.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

Justin sounded like he was facing the end of
the world, but Sam was quick to reassure. “I’m falling in love with
you.” He put the words together as coherently as he could. “I tried
to get over you when you left; thought the connection we had might
have just been nothing. But I didn’t manage to do it, and I wanted
you back, and I hated every day I didn’t know where you were or
what you were doing.”

Then he stopped talking, because Justin
stared at him, his gray gaze searching Sam’s expression. Finally,
Justin sighed, then cradled Sam’s face and kissed him.

They stood like that for a while, but it was
Justin who pulled out of the kiss, with a smile.

“I want to be here with you all the time, but
the words aren’t quite so easy for me to say. I’ve spent too long
never falling in love that I can’t… God, Sam, I need you to kiss me
already.”

And Sam was happy to help.

Justin had been back four weeks, and he still
waited fallout of some kind. Rob had assured him the loose ends
were tied up, but part of Justin, the distrustful part, still
expected trouble.

So when trouble came, he wasn’t as shocked as
he could be.

Unlike Sam, who was at the center of it
all.

They’d finished dinner, decided bed was a
good thing, and just started kissing when “The Imperial March” from
Star Wars
had Sam scrambling for his phone.

“Shit.” Sam didn’t answer, just stared.

Justin took the phone from his hand and
answered the call. “Sam’s phone.”

“Is Sam there?” a soft voice asked.

“Can I ask who’s calling?” Justin raised an
eyebrow at Sam, who shook his head and covered his eyes.

“His mother. Is this his… partner?”

“Sam’s boyfriend, yes.”

Sam groaned and buried his face in his
pillow.

“Could you—” She stopped and her breath
hitched, like she was crying.

Something about that didn’t sit right with
Justin. “Your mom.” He pushed Sam to take the call.

Under duress, Sam took the phone from him and
set his lips in a stubborn line. He inhaled sharply, let the breath
out noisily. “Mother.”

As he listened, he paled, went white as a
sheet. Justin extended a hand to touch him. Sam leaned into the
touch and then rolled up to sit on the bed. “Where? … What’s he
doing in Missoula? … What hospital?” Sam glanced at his watch. “I
don’t know, an hour? … What do you mean?” He finished the call.

“Sam?” Justin prompted.

“My brother, he’s in the hospital.
Missoula.”

Justin moved fast, rolling up and off the
bed. “Let’s go.”

Sam looked up at him, blinking. “Mom said he
was no longer their son if he didn’t go home. That I should tell
Ben that.”

Justin stopped buttoning his jeans midway.
“What?”

Sam shook his head and chuckled darkly. “Both
of their sons, fuckups in their eyes.” Sam went dangerously quiet,
staring into the distance.

Justin moved to crouch between his legs.
“Come on, Sam, let’s do this.”

Sam looked down at him, looking spaced out,
and then something snapped into place. In a flurry of movement, he
got dressed and pushed his cell phone in the pocket of his
jacket.

They left the house together, heading for the
parking area.

“My bike,” Sam said.

Justin took one look at him. “You’re not
driving. Wait here.” He ran up to his dad’s place and thumped on
the door. Marcus answered, and in seconds Justin had explained and
gotten the keys to his dad’s car.

Then they were off Crooked Tree and heading
north to Missoula.

“What was he doing in Missoula?” Justin asked
when they got closer.

Up until then, Sam was happy to stare out at
the darkness of the road, but Justin wanted to snap him out of
it.

“Mom said they argued. Then he said he was
finding me.”

“Okay, so tell me about him.” The navigation
had them turning off the main highway and entering Missoula in the
southeast corner.

“Older than me by ten years. I think I told
you that? Did I? I don’t remember. We were close when I was little,
but the years between us were worse as we both grew up. He’d done
college before I was even due to leave school. And then there was
the whole gay thing.”

They pulled up at the hospital.

Sam sat still, not moving from the car. “What
if he’s dead?”

Justin gripped his hand. “Let’s go.” He
couldn’t exactly reassure Sam, not having had a lot of experience
of things going the right way.

They made their way to Emergency Care, but a
receptionist turned them away and gave them directions to
a ward
. There, in a room on his
own, looking like death, Ben lay curled on his side in a bed.

“Ben?”

“Go ’way.”

The voice from the bed was a growl, something
that didn’t sit well with Justin, and he stiffened.

Sam ignored his brother, though, and walked
to Ben’s side and got a good look at him. “Fuck, Ben, what
happened?”

Justin strode closer, and what he saw
confirmed a few things to him in quick succession. Ben wasn’t here
because he overdosed; he’d been beaten up badly, and whoever had
worked him over had skills. Ben’s face contorted in pain; he looked
frozen in place.

“Ben?” Sam asked again.

“Who are you?” a feminine voice asked from
the doorway.

Justin looked over to see a young woman, slim
and dark-haired, with bright eyes.

“You need to leave,” she snapped, looking
over her shoulder.

When she looked back, Justin saw the dread in
her eyes, and he’d seen fear like that before. “This is Sam, Ben’s
brother,” he explained.

She didn’t step inside the room, appearing a
second from turning and running for help. Every inch of her
vibrated with fear. “I need to see some ID.”

Justin wasn’t going to argue that the
hospital had already seen ID to let them in and been satisfied that
Ben and Sam were related. Instead he pressed a hand to Sam’s
arm.

“Sam, someone needs to see your ID.”

Sam looked at him, confused, certainly out of
it, but he fumbled for his ID and held it out to Justin.

“Throw it here,” she said.

Justin crouched and slid the ID across the
floor, and she carefully picked it up, never taking her eyes off
Justin.

Only when she glanced down did he see her
relax. “Ben’s mom called him?” She stepped into the room, handing
back the ID.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

Justin realized he hadn’t even thought to
ask, knowing she wasn’t a threat.

“Ginny, Ben’s girlfriend.” She crossed to the
bed, climbed up next to Ben, and curled a hand in his hair. He
groaned in pain. “I’m sorry,
babe
,” she crooned.

All the time Sam watched her. Was he drawing
comparisons between him soothing Justin and her doing the same for
Ben? Whatever it was Sam saw, Justin watched him relax.

“Hi. I’m Sam.”

“We were coming to you,” Ginny said. “We
stopped at a motel, and these kids jumped us, took my purse, my
money.” She glanced at her hand. “My ring, everything. Ben fought
back and they hurt him bad, but he won’t take any painkillers. He’s
been clean six months now, and he refuses. They won’t make him,
will they?”

“Why are you scared? Are the ones who did
this in here as well?” Justin asked. Something about this wasn’t
sitting right.

“No.” Ginny curled over Ben and rested her
forehead on his cheek. “But your dad wants him back. He has this
hold on him, but Ben fails there, your dad is toxic.”

Sam sat on the nearest seat like his strings
had been cut. He didn’t think anyone else saw that apart from him.
“Mom said tonight he was no longer their son if he didn’t go
home.”

Ginny raised tear-filled eyes to Sam, her
expression blank. “Good. He’s not going if I have anything to do
with it, so maybe now he’ll be better.”

Sam and Justin went to find coffee after
they’d been sitting there an hour.

“You really think he’ll stay clean?” Sam
asked.

And all Justin could say was “If he wants
to.”

With pretty shit coffee in hand, which they’d
gotten from a machine, they walked back to the room and took up
their vigil next to the bed. It was going to be a long night.

Ginny and Sam left to find breakfast at just
after seven, which left Justin and Ben alone. No one had slept much
last night.

And clearly Ben had things to say despite the
pain he was in, bruised ribs and bruises on bruises.

“You my brother’s boyfriend, then?” he asked,
his words muffled between split lips with butterfly stitches.

“Yes.”

That was the extent of their conversation
until Ben struggled to sit upright. He cursed and flailed, and
through all of it, Justin helped him the best he could. Finally,
Ben was propped up on pillows and Justin got a good look at his
face. Ben and Sam didn’t look alike even when Ben’s face wasn’t
swollen.
Ben’s hair was darker; he was
tall, built—just different to Sam.

“It serious?” Ben managed as Justin sat back
in the chair.

“Yes.”

Ben tilted his head a little, and Justin got
the feeling he was being judged. Ben tried to smile, so clearly
Justin had passed some kind of test.

Ben reached for water. Justin helped him,
holding the cup as Ben sucked water through the straw while his
whole body stiffened in pain. He finished, then “Love him?”

Justin set the drink down and deliberately
sat back in his chair. Of course he loved Sam. There was no doubt
about it. Sam was his anchor, his touchstone, his everything. But
he hadn’t told him yet. Every time he opened his mouth to say it,
Sam would look at him with a smile and kiss him. Almost as if he
didn’t want to hear the words.

Justin was okay with that. The ghosts of the
people he’d killed outbalanced any thoughts of the ones he might
have saved, and sometimes it was the heaviest burden to bear,
making a simple statement of loving Sam almost impossible.

“Yeah.” Why was it so easy to admit this to
Ben when he couldn’t even say the words to Sam?

I am seriously screwed-up in the head.

Sam and Ginny came back, talking about
getting Ben out of here. Ginny was fretting over having no
insurance, which Sam took care of. He signed for the charge and
pocketed his credit card before Ginny could say a word.

“We will pay you back,” she said, her chin
tilted in defiance.

Seemed to Justin that she was permanently on
the defensive. “Of course.” He defused the situation immediately.
“It’s just easier this way.”

The journey home must have been excruciating
for Ben, but he didn’t complain once, even on Crooked Tree land
where the bumps in the approach road were many.

Sam had called ahead and asked if Ben and
Ginny could stay in one of the closed cabins, and said that he
would pay. Justin heard every word Sam said and imagined Jay
telling him that no, he didn’t need to pay, that he was part-owner
now. However it went, Ginny and Ben would be at Crooked Tree, and
that was probably a good thing for them and for Sam.