Love Starved (24 page)

“I told them I got a great job as a legal researcher, and that the company paid me a bonus for every case I helped win.”

“Wow.” Micah paused, trying to wrap his mind around it all. “And… you’re going to keep supporting them forever?” he finally asked, but then he backtracked. “Sorry, that was insensitive of me.”

“No, it’s a fair question. Initially, I thought they would get back on their feet after a few months. But they are both over sixty-five, with serious health issues; it’s not that easy. Though doing this for the next ten, or even twenty years…” Aiden shuddered under the covers. “I don’t know. My father has been plotting something lately; he asked me for some extra money to start a new company, and I got it for him, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“Aiden—” Micah didn’t quite manage to keep his feelings out of his voice. “This is—”

Aiden’s hand squeezed his almost painfully. “Don’t say it,” he pleaded. “I know this is hopeless, that I’m in over my head. I know that. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to pull out of school because becoming a respected lawyer with my history borders on impossible? But I have to try, even if it takes a long time. I know I may have no future. But please don’t say it, not you.”

Micah shook his head and lay back down to look into Aiden’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to. I wanted to say this is so completely selfless of you…”

“It’s so selfless, it’s stupid. That’s me.” Aiden sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get depressing. I’m used to this and most of the time, I’m okay with it—I earn good money, I get to pick my clients. I’m not ashamed of what I do. I don’t exactly love it, but I can live with it. It’s just that the last few months have been hard, with the blackmail and all. But I’m fine, Micah. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“How can I not worry when you get hurt like this?” Micah put his hand on Aiden’s chest, where his heart was beating, strong and comforting.

“But I don’t,” Aiden insisted. “Every time you’ve seen me hurt, it’s always been him. I would never let a client do anything like that. If he backs off now, I’ll be perfectly fine, I promise. Please don’t worry.”

Not worrying was not an option, though. And even after Aiden had fallen asleep, spooned against his back and breathing peacefully, Micah couldn’t drift off. His tears slid silently down his cheeks and sank into his pillow.

Micah’s eyes were just a
little red the next morning, but it was enough for his mom to notice.

“Everything all right?” she asked when he came down into the kitchen. They were alone; Claudia and Brad had left early for Chicago to visit Brad’s grandparents, and Micah’s dad was at work in his store.

Micah nodded. “Yeah. I got a little emotional when we were talking last night. He just… every time I think I know him, he does or says something that makes me lose my breath for a moment because I can feel it right here.” He put his hand over his heart.

His mom smiled. “Your dad and I have been together for over thirty years and he still keeps doing that. Better get used to it.” She squeezed his shoulder and breezed out of the kitchen with her second cup of coffee, while Micah stood there, still catching his breath. Thirty years. He wondered if in thirty years he and Aiden would still remember each other, let alone be friends.

Aiden slept in, and Micah had made sure not to wake him as he grabbed his clothes and tiptoed out of the room. He dreaded the next three days now. After what he’d learned, how was he supposed to see Aiden and not think about all he’d told him, how could he stop himself from tearing up? It wasn’t pity, not at all—but the need to help in
some
way was almost unbearable. How can you love someone and not want them to be happy? While he’d known already that Aiden wasn’t happy because of the Richard issue, he’d never before realized that wasn’t the only tough deal in his life. It wasn’t Micah’s place to try to fix anything for him, he knew that, but he was aching to
help
somehow.

The fact that he still didn’t know how they were supposed to act around each other didn’t make it easier, either. Were they still pretending to be boyfriends, or were they just being themselves and letting his parents assume? What were they going to do for the next three days? It was going to be one hell of a long weekend.

Once again, Aiden surprised him.

He came downstairs smiling and clearly relaxed an hour later, when Micah was curled in his favorite corner of the old couch with his Kindle. He kissed Micah’s cheek and proceeded to the kitchen to make himself coffee and toast, all the while rattling out suggestions of what they could do with their free days.

If Micah hadn’t been already in love with Aiden, without a shadow of a doubt the next seventy-two hours would have gotten him there.

Aiden managed to convince Micah to take a trip down memory lane and show him all the places in and around town that had been important to him. When they came back that evening, he found the dusty boxes of Scrabble and Monopoly on the high shelf in Micah’s room and got everyone to play. Over the weekend, he spent hours reading on the living room couch with Micah, each engrossed in their own book, occasionally touching or quoting lines at each other, but otherwise just existing peacefully together. He had a long discussion with Micah’s dad about the legal nuances of some problematic contract with a delivery company, and enjoyed Micah’s mom’s apple cobbler in such a vocal way it made Micah blush (and his mom grin in a totally mischievous way, which made Micah blush even more). He fell asleep with his head in Micah’s lap as they watched movies—twice—and spent the nights snuggled close, his arm wound securely around Micah’s waist.

Overall, Aiden managed to be completely endearing and affectionate without making Micah uncomfortable by pretending anything. This was how they acted as friends—or had, before. Their dynamic was easy and natural, and these quiet, carefree days seemed to be exactly what they both needed. Micah already knew he would miss them when they said their goodbyes early Monday morning and got on their way back home.

They had just crossed the
Minneapolis city limit when Micah’s phone rang. Aiden, who had dozed off halfway through their drive, startled awake, and Micah took the call on speaker.

“Hello?”

A gruff male voice said, “You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

Confused, Micah glanced at the number, but it was set to private. “Excuse me, but who am I speaking to? I think you have a wrong number, sir,” he said before he noticed how stiff Aiden had gone, how his hands were digging into the fabric of his jeans. What…
oh
.

“Oh, you know perfectly well who I am, kid,” the man purred, then changed his tone until it was almost a growl. “Down to the most private details that you so recklessly helped yourself to.”

Micah forced himself to keep his tone cool, though his heart was pounding in his throat. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t. Like you didn’t break a dozen laws to dig in things that you have no right to? Oh, but I will show you. I know who you are, Mr. Geller, and I know what you do. Having your company’s name on your car is very useful, don’t you think? I know where you spent the holiday, too—you and that little slut. You look awfully cozy in that picture sweet little Claudia posted on her Instagram. Does your family know what trash you brought home? I’m sure they’d be interested to learn.” A gloating note of self-satisfaction rang through the man’s voice and made Micah grind his teeth.

Aiden opened his mouth, looking horrified, and Micah quickly reached to squeeze his hand, shaking his head
no
.

His silence must have been taken as fear because Richard Preston sounded even more arrogant when he spoke again.

“That’s right. I think I need to inform them—for their own good, of course. They should take greater care who they let into their house. Oh, and while I’m at it—what do you think your customers would say if they knew you’re just a dirty little hacker? Why, it might endanger their credibility, being associated with you. It’s practically my moral duty to broadcast the word about you.”

Before Micah could get out a properly cutting response through the anger that choked him—and really, doing this while navigating the morning city traffic was not a good idea—Aiden shot out, “What do you want?”

Fuck
. Micah glared at Aiden, who was sitting there tight-lipped and determined, his hands linked in a death grip in his lap. The voice in the speaker turned sickly sweet, making Micah’s stomach turn.

“Oh, there you are, my little plaything. I want you back, of course. You belong with me and I don’t appreciate you running away like this. And you’re still with that baby hacker, I see.” The man clucked his tongue. “I hope he’s paying you well, at least. Well, let’s end this nonsense. I’m busy tonight, but I want you first thing in the morning tomorrow. I will text you the address. And you better be good or I
will
ruin your new friend.”

Micah was glad he’d managed to pull over because if he tried to cover Aiden’s mouth while navigating the busy streets, they would probably both end up dead. Without removing his palm, he sharply shook his head at Aiden. Then he turned back to the phone, dropping all pretense.

“I thought you understood what happens if you ever touch him again. Do you really want your family to know about the illegitimate son you’ve been so carefully hiding for the last four years?”

The man chuckled. “Ah, but see, that little secret won’t save your asses. We all have secrets, don’t we? I have so much more to play with, now that I know about you, Micah. Can I call you Micah?” He didn’t wait for a response. “See, if I don’t see darling little Angel—has he even told you that’s not his real name?—if I don’t see him tomorrow morning where I want him, exactly
when
I want him, you can say goodbye to your good guy and perfect son image. And if you tell my secret, then I will tell his. I’m sure he doesn’t want that.” A small gasp against Micah’s hand was all the response from Aiden. “Besides, my family is Christian. They’re good at forgiving.”

“Why don’t we try them, then,” Micah growled, losing his patience.

“I think we’re at an impasse here,” Richard said reasonably, as if he were conducting a business deal. “Why won’t you two be good boys, and we can go back to the way things were before. No one ruins anyone else’s life, secrets stay where they belong and everyone is fine. Maybe I will even let you play with me together one day. Wouldn’t it be nice? Such a pretty couple of sweet young twinks.” He hummed happily. Micah felt as though he was going to throw up.

Aiden was no longer struggling to say anything—he was slumped in his seat with his eyes squeezed shut. Micah could see a vein pulse frantically on his temple.

“You’re disgusting,” Micah spat into the phone.

“Whatever,” the man laughed. “I always win. Remember, my little slut,” he said in that fake sweet voice again. “Tomorrow morning. And better be on time. You don’t want your punishment to be worse than it’s already going to be, do you?”

Then there was the click of a disconnecting call and impatient honking from the cab pulling up behind them. Micah pulled back into traffic. He focused on driving, determined to get them through the crowded downtown before trying to talk.

“I can’t do this,” Aiden said quietly a moment later, when they were turning into his street. Micah glanced at him.

“Of course you can’t. And you don’t have to. I’m not afraid of him.”

Aiden turned so that his whole body was facing Micah, despite the seatbelt. “You should be. And I don’t mean I can’t go to him tomorrow. I just… I can’t do what we’re doing any longer, Micah, I can’t. This is exactly why I’ve kept my distance from everyone all this time. It’s enough that my life is messed up, I can’t do this to you, too. We can’t be friends anymore.”

Micah shut off the engine, safely parked now. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s using you to get to me.”

“Yes, and I’m not going to let him. I’ll handle this. He’s messing with the wrong person now.”

Aiden crossed his arms. “No. It won’t work, can’t you see? I tried, and what good did it do? Now he’s going to ruin
your
family and
your
company, all because you cared about me. I can’t let that happen. I will go to him tomorrow and I’ll make this right. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Thank you for everything, Micah.” He undid his seatbelt and reached to open the door.

“Wait.” Micah’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned. Aiden wasn’t kidding, was he? “Where are you going?”

“Home. I’m giving you your life back. It will be better this way.”

“Better for whom?”

“For everyone.” Aiden opened the door and Micah caught his hand.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well, this is me being serious. I cause you nothing but trouble and pain, and it has to stop. I will always be grateful for everything you gave me, but we can’t be friends anymore. Goodbye, Micah. Don’t call me.”

“Aiden—”

“I’m sorry. But that’s what I want.”

A breath hitched in Micah’s throat, but he refused to cry. Not here. “Okay. If that’s
really
what you want,” he choked out. “But please, keep away from him. Let me deal with this. He’s messing with me now, and I will not let him, but you have to stay away. Stay safe, Aiden, please.”

“I’ll do what I have to do. Would you open the trunk?”

Aiden looked completely distant now, expressionless and straight-backed, and Micah could only watch as he got his suitcase from the trunk and disappeared into the dilapidated gray building. When he was gone, Micah let out a long string of curses and, for lack of anything properly punchable in the immediate vicinity, banged the steering wheel a few times. It was not his most brilliant idea—his hands hurt, and he accidentally hit the horn, startling an old lady who was walking by.

Fuck. This was not the way to deal with things.

Micah opened the window, apologized to the old lady, who gave him a distrustful look and a wide berth. After allowing himself the time it took to get all the emotions out of his system, he started the car and drove home. Because once he was home, he would have no time to waste on useless panic. There was a lot he could do, but if he was going to do it, it had to be done today.

But during the fifteen minute drive, panic reigned.

He hadn’t lied when he told Aiden he wasn’t afraid of Richard. Richard was a weak, scheming rat who thought cruelty equaled power. But he had information, and Micah never underestimated its power. He’d been dealing in information himself long enough to know how much damage a well-applied piece of knowledge could do.

He’d tried to downplay it in front of Aiden, but the truth was, Richard had the means to ruin him. Micah’s relationship with his clients relied on their confidence in him, and even though he’d never gone beyond lawful ways to gather the required information at work, and in fact had contracts defining every aspect of what he could and couldn’t do, gossip might send his clients into panic and damage his credibility for good. His business was based on trust, and trust was easy enough to undermine.

What’s more, the thought of his family learning about his whole elaborate lie made Micah break out in cold sweat. How could they ever believe him after that? It wasn’t the fact that Aiden was an escort, although Richard seemed hung up on this—it was that he’d lied to them all along. Suddenly Micah understood why Aiden preferred to suffer through what the man did to him than let him disclose his secret—so much bigger than Micah’s, after all—to his parents, especially given their health problems. Micah would rather suffer himself than let others hurt, too. He’d rather keep quiet than risk exposure, or conflict, or ridicule. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done all through high school, and so many times in his relationship with Brian—cower away from risk and confrontation?

But doing nothing now, complying with Richard’s conditions, wouldn’t hurt him—it would hurt Aiden, and that was not an option. He couldn’t allow his cowardice to stop him this time. Yes, it was scary as hell, but scarier still was the memory of the bruises on Aiden’s throat where Richard had strangled him—the bruises that had been still faintly visible every night when Aiden took off the cotton scarves he’d worn all weekend. Scarier was the thought of what Richard might do next time. Tomorrow.

It was barely ten a.m. when Micah entered his apartment. He was calm now—but it was not the peaceful kind of calm. It was the deadly kind, the calm that brought out boldness and ruthlessness because that was what had to be done.

First thing he called Rebecca and asked her to take over his duties for the day. Then he checked Richard’s private online calendar at his company account. His last meeting was scheduled between five and six p.m.

Perfect. Micah had enough time.

For the next six hours,
Micah was hard at work checking facts and figures, choosing sources, compiling data. By four, the document was ready. That was it. He had one more thing to do before he could leave, and the mere thought of it made his insides twist painfully. A shot of something strong for courage might help, but he was going to be driving soon, so that was out of the question. Instead, he sat in front of the computer with a nervous ache in the pit of his stomach, hands trembling.

His parents had lived on the same schedule for years. They were always home from work by four; then his dad would check email and news on the Internet, maybe pay some bills, while his mom made dinner. Micah felt as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs as he pressed the
Video call
button in Skype.

He waited until they were both seated in front of the computer and made sure whatever his mom had been making in the kitchen was off the stove before he said, “There’s something you need to know about Aiden and I.”

“Wait, who’s Aiden?” his dad asked, confused.

“Yes, let’s start with that.” Micah paused and bit his lower lip. “Remember how you always told us that it’s okay to make mistakes, but we should have the courage to admit to them? Well, this is me admitting that I made a mistake.”

His mom, who had looked concerned from the moment Micah had asked to talk to them together, leaned closer to the screen. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… I’ve been lying to you. Angel is not my boyfriend. In fact, his name isn’t even Angel; it’s Aiden, and I hired him to pretend that we were together, back in July.”

There, he’d said it. There was no way to take it back now, or chicken out again and decide this conversation could wait. Whatever consequences his confession would have might be difficult to take, but nothing was harder than this first moment of overcoming fear and saying the thing out loud. It had been like that when Micah was a kid, and it would never not be true, he was sure.

“Why would you do such a thing?” his dad asked.

“I… um.” Micah frowned, trying to recreate his exact reasoning when it all started, but the more he tried, the less sense it made. “Because I… was being stupid? I don’t even know what I was thinking, honestly. It was clearly a mistake to start this charade, and then the longer it lasted, the harder it got to untangle and… anyway, yes. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“And you…
hired
him again to pretend this weekend?” His mom sounded incredulous.

“Oh, no. The thing is, we’ve become really good friends since then. Aiden had some trouble at… at work, and he needed to get away from the city for a few days, so I offered… um. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

“Micah, what made you think we would ever mind you bringing a friend over?” His mom looked disappointed, and Micah knew he deserved it, but it still stung. “I don’t understand, have we ever said anything that made you believe only your significant others were accepted here, or something?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why did you feel like you couldn’t just tell us?”

Micah groaned. “Mom, how would you react if I called and said ‘Hey, you know what, Angel is really an escort whom I hired to pretend to be my boyfriend, but now we’re actually best friends, so can I bring him over for Thanksgiving?’”