Chapter Eleven

LOGAN

Simon was waiting for him in his office bright and early Monday morning after a weekend Logan had spent wrestling with the devil. One part of his brain wanted to find Ryan and tell him he was sorry for being such a bastard, but the other side kept yelling at him to leave Ryan alone.

"Last I checked, you have your own office, right next door." Logan scowled at his friend sitting on the long leather sofa. The large window behind his desk provided a gorgeous backdrop of midtown skyscrapers, none of which he appreciated at the moment.

"I know."

"So?" Logan hung up his suit jacket, and coffee in hand, sat behind his desk. "Why are you here? We haven't shared a room since law school, and I'm not about to start again."

"Logan, shut up." Simon sauntered over to stand before him. "Tell me what happened Friday night."

"Excuse me?" He set his cup on the desk and glared.

"It gives me great pleasure to repeat it: shut up. You're babbling about nonsense. Now tell me what happened after you stormed out. I left a few minutes after you, and you were gone."

"I didn't storm out. I walked. Briskly. I can't help it if I have long legs. And nothing happened. I went home."

Logan's direct gaze did little to change the skepticism on Simon's face. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Who are you, my mother?"

"Apparently not, because I know you never lied to her. How did you feel seeing Ryan?"

"You want to know how I feel? Angry. Duped. Stupid."

Simon sighed. "But at least you know he's safe. You can stop worrying."

"Yeah…" He drank some coffee. "I can't believe I was ever worried about him. I'm such a fool. Go ahead. Tell me again."

"You're not a fool. You just take your caring to a higher level, and Ryan didn't want that. Sometimes tough love is the best and only love a person should get."

"Simon's right."

At the sound of Ryan's voice, Logan's hand jerked, and he spilled hot coffee on himself and his desk. "Fuck, ow ." Simon offered him a tissue. "Like that's going to help," he grumbled but took it anyway.

"Fine. I'll just remove myself from your pissy presence. Maybe you can chill him out." Logan caught Simon giving Ryan's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and his eyes narrowed. What the hell was that about? Did he actually sympathize with Ryan? Whose friend was he?

"What do you want?"

Ryan took several steps into the office. "I said I'd set up a payment plan for the thousand dollars. Here I am." Hands in his jeans pockets, he stood in front of the desk.

"You're awfully cocky for a thief," Logan drawled and watched Ryan pale, then flush a bright red.

"All right, I deserve that. How do you want to work this out? I make forty-six thousand a year at the clinic. After taxes, I take home about fifteen hundred every pay period."

Jesus . Logan blinked. That wouldn't even cover a quarter of his monthly expenses. The reality of Ryan's world hit him, and he struggled not to blurt out, "Forget it." Logan folded his arms. "Let me ask you something."

Ryan shifted on his feet. "Okay…"

God, he felt like a complete and utter shit, but if Ryan wanted to be treated like just another guy, then so be it. "Why shouldn't I call the detective who was handling your case and tell him to arrest you for burglary?"

Ryan went still. "I—you could." He tipped his chin up. "If you want to, we can go to the station right now, and I'll turn myself in."

"Goddammit." He smacked the arm of his desk chair and stood up to pace. "I don't want to hurt you, Ryan." This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"I think you do. You want to hurt me the way you say I hurt you."

"The way I say ? You don't believe me? Why would I spend months of my life trying to help you stay clean if I didn't care?" He was fuming. "First you say I'm too coddling and overprotective. Now you're saying I want to hurt you. I'm a real shit of a human, aren't I?"

His secretary, Denise, closed the door, but he couldn't even feel embarrassment for raising his voice. He barely felt anything at all.

Ryan frowned. "I don't think that. I know you tried to help me. But what I can't figure out is why. We're not lovers—a few kisses and one hookup barely qualify. So why me?"

"Because I couldn't stand seeing you throw your life away."

"But it's my life. For some reason, you made me your project. Like I was someone without the capacity to know what's right for me. And I accepted it all because it was so damn easy. I used you, Logan, and I'm sorry. I allowed you to take control. But I never should've allowed it to happen, in spite of your good intentions."

This wasn't the same Ryan from before. This man was ready to accept responsibility for his mistakes and stand on his own. Logan wasn't sure how to respond, so he remained quiet.

Ryan, on the other hand, had a lot to say. "You wanted to keep me in this bubble where only you and I existed, but I don't want that. I can't fall into the soft landing you're always offering me. It's too easy to always let you make the decisions. It was wrong of me then, and nothing's changed. I don't want you controlling my life."

Logan grew still, Ryan's voice fading into the background.

He was standing next to Todd's hospital bed, the first time he'd OD'd, and Logan was so scared. Strange machines beeping and oxygen hissing. His parents didn't want him to see Todd so sick, but he fought them until they gave in and agreed.

All he wanted was his big brother, not the moody, angry person who never had time for him anymore because he was always out with his friends. Logan was only sixteen, but he knew what they were doing because when Todd came home on the weekend, his eyes were glassy and his breath smelled like beer. One time Todd was out, and Logan sneaked into his room and looked through his drawers. Beneath a pile of underwear, he found it. A plastic baggie full of white powder. He dropped it, recoiling as if he'd get high simply by touching the outside. He made sure to shove it under the boxers, where he found it, and ran out.

Later Logan asked him about the drugs, Todd yelled at him, "I don't have to listen to you, Logan. It's my life. You're my brother. You don't control me. Nobody does."

"If you don't stop taking them, you're gonna die," Logan screamed in his face, then burst into tears. "I don't want you to die."

"Logan? Logan?" Ryan shook his arm. "Are you even listening to me? Are you all right? You look pale."

"Yeah. I'm fine. You're right. It's your life, not mine, and I shouldn't butt into it. So I won't." He drew on the coldness he'd lived in since Todd had vanished. "We're finished here. You can go."

"Logan, please. It doesn't need to be like this."

"Like what?" He made a vain attempt to form a smile, but it was closer to a grimace.

"We were friends…at least I thought we were."

"Friends?" His laughter traveled the range of brittle to the verge of anger. "I don't think so. Friends don't lie to one another. They don't steal from each other and disappear without any thought or care."

"I do care about you. And I want to pay my debt to you."

"Why? So you can wipe me out of your life?" He advanced on Ryan. "You want to repay me? Okay. What about the money I gave you to pay off your debt to Remi?"

Ryan's eyes widened. "Th-the hundred grand?" He started backing away, toward the door.

"Yes. Did you forget about that? Was I a fool to give it to you without a signed agreement? It's looking like it."

"I'll pay you. For all of it, I promise. Somehow."

"It was never about the money," he murmured when Ryan hit the door. "But I don't forgive."

Ryan's face flamed and their gazes clashed. "What do you want from me?" Ryan breathed and rubbed his face.

Logan almost felt sorry for him. Almost. If Ryan wanted to live in the harsh reality of the world, this was it. He didn't like acting like a bastard, but dammit, he was fucking hurt. "What do you think?"

He wondered if Ryan could tell him, because he sure as hell didn't know.

"I…I'll get you the money. I'll pay you five hundred dollars every two weeks. I don't need much money to live on. Emerson isn't charging me rent."

"You're living with him?"

"Yeah. He's letting me stay until I get my feet under me. Which is going to take longer now, but it's fine." Ryan met his eyes defiantly. "I got myself into this, and I'll find my way out."

"You'll stay with him, yet you couldn't wait to run away from me. Are you two lovers?" Logan asked and immediately regretted his words. But he waited…

Ryan shoved him. "I don't owe you any explanations. I'll start paying you the money with my next check." He wrenched open the door and walked out.

Each encounter with Ryan left him more frustrated and bewildered. Why the hell did he care who Ryan was sleeping with?

Because you want him and he doesn't want you.

Logan returned to his desk and concentrated on the contracts waiting for him. He'd always prided himself on his single-minded dedication to his work. His clients deserved the best, and that was him. He clicked the newest folder and allowed the first real smile of the day. Remi had signed with a publisher and was writing a memoir— In a New York Minute: The Story of How I Loved, Lost, and Found Life Again .

He ran through the contract, red-lined and changed some provisions, then called Remi.

"Hi, Remi, I'm almost done looking over your contract. Are you writing this yourself, or having a ghost?"

"Garrett is helping by cleaning up all the language, but I'm doing this on my own. My story, my words."

"Good for you. I'm looking forward to a signed copy."

"You know it. How're you doing?"

"Hanging in there."

"Did you ever hear from Ryan?"

"Yeah. I finally found him. He's working at an LGBTQ center."

"Really?" Remi sounded both doubtful and surprised.

"Yeah. I think you'd find him a very different person than who he was the last time you saw him."

"I'd hope so, considering he was beaten bloody and coming off an overdose."

Logan winced. "Yeah…I know it wasn't good."

"Is he living with you again?" He'd mentioned in passing that he'd given Ryan a place to stay when he found him living in a squalid one-room studio, and Remi had merely nodded.

"I knew there was more to that than what you let on in your office."

As it turned out, Remi was wrong.

"No, he's staying with a friend."

" Hmm . Why do I feel you're not happy about that? Just how deeply involved with him are you?"

Logan tensed. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not involved at all. I tried to help him, but he played me for a fool. And I'm nobody's fool."

Remi chuckled. "That I know, but lust can make fools of anyone. Wars have been fought over it and because of it."

"Look, I just called you to say that the contract is in order. Just a few minor changes, and I'll be sending it to you later today."

"Yeah, I'm not worried. Why are you so dodgy whenever I bring up Ryan? Frankly, I didn't understand that whole situation you had going on."

"Why do you need to?" Logan snapped.

"Because you're my friend as well as my attorney. And I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"On edge. Angry. Are you concerned about him using again?"

"That's no longer my business. Ryan told me to stay out of his life, and that's what I plan on doing."

"All this has to do with Todd, doesn't it? I know you don't like talking about it—"

"Finally you're right about something. I don't like to talk about it, and I'm not going to. I'll send you the contract in a few. Say hello to Garrett for me. Bye."

And much as he hated being obnoxious to Remi, Logan hung up on his friend's protests. Sitting with his head in his hands, the walls of the office closed in on him. Choked him. He saved the changes to Remi's contract, sent the copy to his secretary, and grabbed his suit jacket off the rack.

Denise sat at her desk outside his office and frowned when he walked out. "Is something wrong? Are you ill?"

Going strong in her early seventies and happily married with four children, three cats, and a husband who adored her, Denise kept his work and personal calendar, handling with a kind yet firm hand overly anxious clients, and the occasional lover who'd gotten it into their head that sleeping with him once meant a lasting relationship. Denise was more than an employee. Logan thought of her as a second mother.

"No. I just…I need to go out for a little while. I won't be reachable, so if anyone calls…" He shrugged.

Sympathetic brown eyes met his, and she flipped her long gray ponytail over her shoulder. "It's been a morning. I understand."

She'd known Ryan was living with him, and he'd confided in her the story of his disappearance, but with all the tumult, he hadn't filled her in on the latest news.

"Thanks. I should be back in the afternoon."

"So Ryan has returned. Is everything okay with you two? Is he home with you now?" She pursed her lips. Logan knew she didn't approve of their living arrangements. In her mind, Ryan had taken advantage of him, and being fiercely protective of Logan, she made her opinions known. Unlike his responses to Simon and Remi, with Denise he kept his piss-poor attitude to himself.

"No. He's decided he prefers to only have a business arrangement between us for the future."

"Everything happens for a reason." Denise's nod was firm, and her face reflected the internal struggle to hold off from saying "I told you so."

"You're right." He gave her a quick smile. "I'll see you later."

He left, and in the elevator called for a car. The ride to Prospect Park took about forty minutes, and the walk to the area he and Todd had called their special place another ten. Sunlight filtered through the trees, and he sat on the ground, lifting his face to its warmth. Propped up against a tumble of rocks, he gazed at the puffs of white clouds drifting across the bright blue sky. People walking past side-eyed him, and Logan knew he was a strange sight—a grown man in a suit, sitting on the ground in the park in the middle of the day.

"Look, Logan, look." Todd pointed upward as he sucked on his lollipop. His lips were stained cherry red. "That's an old man with a beard. It's Merlin the magician. Like Daddy read to us the other night."

Logan reached into the bag of candy and pulled out a Tootsie Roll. Every Saturday he and Todd would walk to the candy store and get a bag of their favorite candy with their allowance money. Their mother would take them to the park, where she would meet her friends and he and Todd could play in the grass.

"Uh-huh. And that's his castle." He didn't really understand much of the story, but he didn't want Todd to think he was a baby. Clouds fluffed out in a rectangle with one long trailing end. "See? There's the tower for the princess."

"What princess? There's no princess in the story," Todd scoffed.

"Maybe it's for the prisoners."

"That makes more sense. They'd fight dragons and then capture the bad guys and put them there."

Logan didn't care if there were dragons, princesses, or knights. All he wanted was for these days to last forever. Just Todd and him with the sun on their faces, laughing.

But like those clouds in the sky, forever was a fleeting moment.

Twenty-eight years had passed since he'd last seen Todd, and while he'd held out hope that Todd had somehow survived, in the dark corners of his heart, Logan knew Todd was dead. The reality was, he'd lost him the first time Todd had gotten high. The sweet-faced big brother who'd always held his hand crossing the street, who'd sit with him at school lunch if no one else would, had turned into a sneering, cold stranger when he entered high school. His once bright-green eyes had become vacant.

To this day, Logan couldn't understand how and why Todd had fallen. He'd been loved by his parents. Logan had adored and looked up to him. Todd had lived in a safe home and wanted for nothing.

And yet…it hadn't been enough. His parents' pleading, Logan's crying…none of it had been enough. Todd had refused any treatment offered, and Logan'd had no idea that when he'd said good night to Todd in the hospital and promised he'd help him through whatever he needed, it would be the last time he'd see his big brother. At some point in the middle of the night, Todd had pulled out his IV, slipped out of the hospital room, and disappeared. The police couldn't find him, and since he was no longer a minor, there wasn't much else they could do.

Dammit, Todd, I'm trying to live, but the hole you left behind is inescapable. It keeps letting all the pain in, and I don't know how to stop it.

Logan wiped the tears from his face.

Like those castles in the air made of clouds, happiness was an illusion, gone in the whisper of the wind.