Chapter Four

LOGAN

Having picked up Ryan in the past, Logan knew where to go and waited in front of the church for the meeting to break up. He searched every departing person's face as they exited, but Ryan's wasn't among them. And neither was Emerson. When it was apparent that the last person had left and Emerson hadn't appeared, Logan knew his trip had been another exercise in futility.

"Dammit," he swore, leaning against a parked car.

Unwilling to leave, he decided to check for stragglers and walked inside. He'd struck out with Emerson, but maybe Dex was there? Following the signs pointing to the room, Logan poked his head around a half-open door and found a very good-looking man in his midforties, sitting on a folding chair, talking on his phone. A smile lit his face.

"Yeah, I'm coming home now.…I remember. Jeremy said he and Blake will be there about seven.…I love you too. Bye."

Logan rapped his knuckles on the door, and the man gazed at him with a quizzical face, brows pinched together over startling blue eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"I was looking for Dex? Are you him?"

"No, Dex is on vacation." The man stood. "I'm Dr. Noah Strauss. I'm taking over for Dex while he's away."

"I spoke to Dex a few days ago, and he didn't say anything about going anywhere. Where did he go?"

"And you are?"

"Logan Silver."

Strauss's brows drew together "Okay, Mr. Silver. Does Dex normally check in with you when he goes away? And I have no idea where he is, though I can't imagine why you'd think I'd tell you his itinerary even if I did."

At the quirk of Strauss's lips, lending an amused expression to his handsome face, Logan's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, which put him in a bad temper. "No," he snapped, more testy than usual, especially to a stranger, but his nerves had been on edge since Ryan's disappearance. "Of course not. But I've been trying to locate a good friend who's been missing for two weeks, and since I'd spoken with Dex about trying to find him and he knew how concerned I was, I thought he'd have the common courtesy to let me know. That's all. Thanks."

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room and the church. Footsteps pounded behind him, but he continued on, head down.

"Excuse me, excuse me, could you wait a moment?" someone called out to him.

Logan peered over his shoulder to see Strauss running after him. Having little desire to talk to him or anyone, he continued to put one foot in front of the other. Unfortunately, the man was in good shape and easily caught up to him. "I'd like to know more about the man you said is missing."

"Why?" Logan asked, stopping. "I don't see the point."

"Well," Strauss said, "you seem very upset, and you look like you could use someone to talk to. I'm a psychologist."

Now Strauss had his interest. "You are? Listen, can we talk?"

Strauss's lips twitched. "In case you don't remember, I'm the one who chased after you."

"Yeah, okay, you're right." Logan glanced around West Broadway and pointed across the street to the Smyth Tribeca hotel. "How about we go inside for a drink?"

Strauss nodded. "Just let me call my husband to let him know I'm going to be late."

They crossed the street, and Strauss spoke on the phone as they entered the lobby.

"Hey, babe. I have to talk to someone after the meeting, so I'll be a little late… Oh, he is, huh?" Strauss's eyes twinkled. "Listen, tell my brother he can wait an extra half hour to eat. He's so healthy, give him one of those juices Gino's always selling on television. That'll hold him for a little while." He chuckled, his face soft. "Yeah. Be home as soon as I can… Me too." He tucked the phone into his jacket pocket, and Logan held open the door to the Galerie Bar. He chose a plush seat at a tiny table in the rear.

When they'd settled with their drinks, Strauss tipped his chin. "Tell me, Mr. Silver, what am I doing here? Who is missing?"

Logan sipped his Pinot Noir, contemplating the jewel tone of the wine in the stemless glass. "I have a friend. He suffers from addiction. He claimed he'd been sober but I'm beginning to think that wasn't true. As we know, it's so very easy to fall prey to its wiles, and it takes a lot of strength to beat the habit. A drug is a damn seductive mistress."

Understanding filled Strauss's eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that. And yes, I know. The need consumes you until you can think of nothing else."

"Agreed. Ryan's had a very rough life. Abandoned by his family when he was a teenager, he fought his way through life and went to college and law school. He's really tried to make something of himself. Unfortunately, he's had slipups along the way."

"Slipups? Do you mean relapses?"

Logan steepled his fingers under his chin. "Ryan was beguiled by living the high life in the city. He met his husband, Garrett, freshman year at college. Garrett had a very large settlement from a lawsuit, and Ryan claimed he loved him but admitted the money was a big part of the reason he married him."

Noah's handsome features clouded. "And that money made it easy for Ryan to fall into the life of drugs again."

"If he ever left. I suspect Ryan might've been using when he and Garrett were together, but in school he kept it under wraps. From what I've learned, Garrett was vehemently opposed to any kind of drug use, and Ryan knew it. Having access to Garrett's fortune, plus the fast-paced environment he lived in…Ryan worked in entertainment law, and it's part of the lifestyle to go to dinners and clubs to wine and dine prospective clients. Once you've been addicted, it doesn't take much to send you running to the comfort of what you've always known. He fell into the partying at his law firm and got drawn deeper and deeper into trouble—drugs, booze, all-night clubbing…eventually he and his husband divorced."

"May I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure." Logan took a sip of his Pinot Noir.

"The knowledge you have of substance abuse, that seems pretty intimate. Were you ever in treatment yourself?"

His throat closed, making it painful to swallow. Or breathe.

"No. I…" He faltered, fingernails digging into the wooden tabletop. Logan had to take a minute to release the tension gathered in his chest. "I don't do drugs. I never have. But back to Ryan…at the end, he was out of control, and it caught up to him. He was arrested and disbarred."

Strauss's jaw dropped. "Oh, damn. That's brutal. My husband's a lawyer, and I know how serious that is."

"It shattered him. He overdosed and wound up in the hospital, beaten half to death." The pain of what Ryan had gone through swept through Logan as sharply as if it had been his own.

Noah hitched his chair closer. "I can see why you're concerned for his safety—you're being a good friend. Anyone who's experienced so many setbacks in such a short period of time and already had a problem with drugs is in a precarious position. Was he able to get his license reinstated?"

"No. His career is over," Logan stated dispassionately, staring over Strauss's shoulder. "I wasn't surprised when the disciplinary committee refused to reinstate him, but Ryan must've believed he'd rehabilitated himself by staying out of trouble and finding employment as a hotel maintenance supervisor. He dived back into the bottle when he received the letter denying his application and walked out on me. I-I feel guilty I wasn't there to support him, but I was out of town for a business meeting." His lips twisted in a grimace. "Of course that's when he received the news, and he was all alone."

"You're together?"

Something about Dr. Noah Strauss's calm, nonjudgmental demeanor made him easy to talk to, and Logan, despite being extremely private, was willing to discuss the intricacies of his tangled relationship with Ryan. He took another sip of wine.

"No…I'm not sure what we are. I don't know what drew me to Ryan." Logan smiled faintly. "Well, yes, I do. I can admit to superficiality. He's extremely good-looking, and I've always been physically attracted to him. I kept away when he was married, but after his divorce, we hooked up in a club. It shocked the hell out of me because I'm not that type of person." He sneaked a look at Strauss, who caught his eye. "Seriously. I don't know what came over me."

Strauss's lips curved upward. "Before I received my PhD, I was a fashion model." His expression was frank. "I've seen it all, trust me. Lust, coupled with alcohol and other stimulants, can blind people to their surroundings."

It didn't surprise him. Dr. Strauss was extremely handsome, but Logan didn't miss the thin scars on his face, almost, but not quite, artfully camouflaged by scruff. He wondered if that had ended his career. It did nothing to diminish his startling good looks, but having had many clients in the entertainment field, Logan knew the price put on perfection and the lengths people would go to stay on top.

"You obviously know more about the club scene than I do. Well, over a year later, I came face-to-face with Ryan again, but this time under much different circumstances." He recounted Ryan's humiliation over Logan's discovery of him working as a janitor in a hotel.

"I can understand his embarrassment. Especially in front of a colleague."

"I couldn't care less what he does. Considering some of the secret lives many people have outside of work, no one has the right to judge anyone. I encouraged him to work hard, remain sober, and knowing his environment wasn't the most conducive to that lifestyle, I offered to let him move in with me. All I wanted was for him to get clean and have a fresh start. We're not personally involved."

"That's a pretty unusual response—taking someone into your home who's a virtual stranger. I'd say that's being pretty personally involved. Sex doesn't always have to play a part in a relationship."

That tension returned, and Logan gripped his glass. "I couldn't stand to see the way he was living—a dingy one-room apartment in a neighborhood where drug deals were as common as pigeons and roaches. Ryan needed to know he was worth supporting, and I have the means."

Strauss clasped his hands. "Understood, and I'm not saying what you did was wrong because I can tell it was done with the best of intentions, but do you see it from Ryan's point of view?"

"I'm not trying to be his savior, if that's what you're insinuating." Why couldn't anyone see he was doing this for Ryan's own good? His hackles rose.

Strauss smiled. "Whether knowingly or not, that is exactly who you are to him. As Ryan sees it, you're rich and powerful and have everything you want. You're also older, I'm assuming?"

"Not by that much, but yes."

"So you swooped in and took over everything in his life he had to worry about, giving him a soft place to land. Do you have him paying rent or any living expenses?"

"N-no. I mean…my condo is paid for, and I'm not going to ask him to chip in for monthly expenses like electric and food. That's petty. Besides, after taxes, he doesn't make anywhere near what I make. Why would I?"

"To give him a sense of self-worth."

"He knows I don't care about those things. I only want him to have a clear and easy path to get back on his feet." Growing uncomfortable under Strauss's unblinking scrutiny, Logan drank some more wine. "But I'm guessing I did it wrong?"

"Your intentions were good; please don't get upset. It's natural to want to protect someone when you see them crumbling. But once again, it comes down to this point"—Strauss paused—"why are you doing this? You say you're not in a relationship, yet all the signs point to the actions of someone who cares deeply."

"No, we aren't. Aside from that one encounter in the club, we've barely had any physical contact."

"It's odd from an outsider's perspective for someone to do all this out of a sense of altruism or the simple goodness of his heart."

"I…I care. I don't like seeing someone as bright and alive as I once knew Ryan to be, throw his life away."

"Because…?" Strauss's opened-ended question unnerved Logan. Usually, he was the one asking the probing questions, but Strauss, with his kind and gentle manner, had managed to burrow under Logan's skin. He didn't like it, but he appreciated that Strauss had put off his evening plans to listen to him, and Logan felt he owed him something.

"I've had experience with someone suffering from addiction. It's ugly, and I wanted to help Ryan. It's the least I could do." As always, any mention of the past left him an emotional wreck, and Logan struggled to keep his composure. His fingers tightened around his glass, and a quick uptick of his lips was the best he could muster. "I'd better not hold you up. It sounded like you have guests for dinner."

Noah didn't take the bait. "It's just my brother and his husband. They can wait. Oren will entertain them until I get home. I think being here with you is more important." A gentle smile warmed his face. "You sound like you could use someone to talk to."

"Me?" As much as Logan respected this virtual stranger's compassion and willingness to sit and listen to him, he was nowhere near ready to unburden his fractured soul. "I'm fine…good. My main concern is finding Ryan." He narrowed his eyes. "Oren." He thought for a moment. "That's an unusual name. What type of law does he specialize in?"

"Mostly family law and some corporate. He works for the firm Davis and Frank. They're pretty small, so you might not have heard of them."

For the first time that night, Logan's laughter was sincere. "Oh, trust me. I've heard of Ash Davis. He's a brilliant attorney." Asher Davis's sexual prowess was also legendary, but Logan didn't want to speak ill of someone Strauss considered a friend. Besides, Logan was no angel—he had his own less than stellar reputation of bedding and forgetting.

"True, and he's also a very good friend of ours. Oren's worked for him going on five years now."

"Interesting. I know he's very involved with charity work for LGBTQ youth."

"Yes. He and his husband, along with their circle of friends, run a clinic." Noah dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and extracted a card. "This is it. Home Away From Home. Aside from providing medical help during the day, they have a twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week phone line, where volunteers talk to people grappling with mental health and substance abuse issues. Oren and I help out."

Logan studied the card. "I had no idea this existed," he mused. "I wish…well, it doesn't matter anymore." Grief surged through him, the pain in his heart an unbearable raw wound that had never fully healed after losing Todd. Logan shouldered the burden of his failure every day, and it bled into all aspects of his life.

"You lost someone close to you to drugs, didn't you, Mr. Silver?"

The words of the card blurred before his eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "And when I did, I lost part of myself as well."