Chapter 28

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Anthony walked up the street, the afternoon sun on his back and a smile on his face. It hadn’t been the date he expected, but lunch had been perfect all the same. Was it a date? It felt like a date.

He wanted it to be a date.

Being with Cillian was a tantalizing glimpse of the life that was possible once he had his shit together. The temptation to call Farring so he had a job was so strong that he’d pulled his phone out twice on the train back to Margot’s. But then he remembered the concern in Cillian’s eyes when he’d mention the old connection. Cillian hadn’t needed to say anything; Anthony knew accepting the offer would be a bad idea.

Fuck, it had been a bad idea to call Farring in the first place, but he’d needed to be sure.

How many times had he said yes when the smart option was no?

Too, too many.

It was, as his father said, a character flaw. According to his father, he had many, including antagonizing his brother. His father never wanted to hear how Hayden started it, only that Anthony had somehow upset him. Which then led to his father taking it out on both of them, and Hayden taking it out on him—because once again Anthony had gotten them both in trouble.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket without thinking.

Cillian, but it wasn’t a message he wanted to read.

H called me. He knew you were here and called straight after you left.

Cold washed over his skin as he remembered the man at the beach and the white car with the red scuff mark on the front bumper. So he hadn’t been paranoid. He was being followed. Hayden must have hired a private investigator to keep tabs on him.

What did he say?

Anthony could imagine, but he needed to know.

That you are seeing old friends and falling back into old habits.

Which was partially true. He had seen old friends, but he didn’t want the old habits, or the threat of jail.

Cillian followed up with another text.

Is he having you followed?

“Fuck.” Anthony muttered.

I wasn’t sure, but I am now. I’ll sort it out.

He had no idea how without talking to Hayden. He scanned the street, looking for the car or the man. Maybe he’d lost his tail by catching the train and walking the rest of the way, but he’d be back to watch Margot’s house.

Shit. Liam had been to the house. Did that mean Liam had been seen sniffing around? They’d definitely been seen speaking at the beach.

You need to speak to someone about him.

Anthony wasn’t sure if Cillian meant Hayden or the tail, but Cillian also needed to speak to someone about Hayden.

Have you considered reporting H to the cops?

Dots appeared, then vanished. Anthony walked, with his focus on the screen, as he waited for a reply.

He’s a ducking lawyer. It won’t go anywhere, so what’s the point?

*Fucking.

Anthony smiled, not needing the correction but amused that he’d bothered.

I’ll talk to him about the tail and the harassment. I won’t make it worse, right?

He crossed the road, waiting for Cillian’s response.

He mentioned Bianca, and the impending divorce, and wants me to lie about her. No doubt to lessen the settlement. I can’t do it. So now I’m fucked in the not fun way.

Anthony didn’t want to make the mess bigger. He was supposed to be helping. So far he was doing a shit job.

I’d better only mention the tail.

It wasn’t as though his brother could be reasoned with. To him, it was a game, and whoever screwed over the most people, and had the most money, won.

Yeah… make it seem like we don’t talk about anything. Just fuck.

He pictured Cillian raking his fingers through his hair and scowling. He wanted to call him, but as neither of them had a solution, what was there to say?

Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do to stop him from starting gossip, and he’ll keep pushing and demanding more. It’s what he does.

Yes. I see that now…

You have a solid career.

?? Do you remember what I do for a living?

It was a better career than what Anthony had at the moment, though that was a low bar. Cillian was respected and people requested him… That had to count for something. Didn’t it?

Have you told your agent?

No. She might drop me because of the comp thing.

That might have been true a couple of years ago, but you’re about to record a movie soundtrack. You make her money.

And people liked money. An agent wasn’t going to pre-emptively kill the golden goose, but they might protect the goose from the wolves.

Ah, but will I afterwards?

I bet she’ll have ideas. I’ll talk to H about the tail, you talk to your agent about the blackmail, and then we can discuss the results.

Anthony hoped that Cillian’s agent was smarter than both of them and knew which strings to pull. The strings probably wouldn’t choke Hayden, but he was allowed to dream.

God, that sounds dull.

I can make it interesting. ??

LOL. But I hate this.

But continuing will be worse?

Cillian’s initial reason for approaching him had been to end the blackmail, but Anthony understood the fear that standing up to Hayden provoked. He had the scar to prove it, and a long list of times that left no scars.

Got to go. I’ll call my agent tomorrow. No time today.

Anthony slipped his phone into his pocket, crossed another road, and turned the corner. Then stopped.

Hayden’s car sitting in his sister’s driveway swept away every thought. His heartbeat drowned out every other noise. For several seconds, he stood there. Sure, he’d just talked about speaking to his brother, but he hadn’t meant now .

He exhaled. It didn’t have to be now.

And he didn’t have to go home. He could head to a café and hide until it was safe to return. But by running away, he gave Hayden a certain power over him which he didn’t like. He didn’t like admitting that running was his first thought, either.

Hayden must know that he’d seen Liam and was now here to blackmail him.

I’ll keep that secret, but now you owe me forever.

Or perhaps Hayden was talking to Margot about something other than him. They had more interesting things in their lives than him. At least, he hoped they did. Maybe Hayden was about to leave.

He doubted it even as he thought it.

Was Hayden telling Margot how Anthony had already breached one of his parole conditions?

Fuck.

He walked back around the corner, not knowing what to do.

There was only one thing to do.

Hayden couldn’t hold the threat to his throat if he caught the blade with both hands. He walked along the path, following the same route he took when he went running, stopping when he reached the café. He bought a bottle of water, then sat on a bench that overlooked the ocean.

His gut churned, in much the same way Cillian’s must have at the idea of telling his agent everything. He needed to follow his own advice. Would he really be sent back for another six months? Would he be dropping Liam in the shit?

What a fucking mess.

He unscrewed the cap and took a drink of the icy water, not even seeing the ocean. It wasn’t Hayden’s job to keep tabs on him. It was Mick’s.

And it was better Mick heard everything from him, not from the private investigator tailing him, or Hayden, or the cops. He gripped the cold-water bottle with one hand and brought up Mick’s number with the other, but it was several seconds before he pressed call.

The phone rang a couple of times. Sweat beaded on his back while his thoughts ran in ever darker circles.

Mick picked up and answered in his usual cheerful fashion. “How’s it going, Anthony?”

Anthony gritted his teeth and swallowed before answering. “Not good.”

He needed to get his shit together and be coherent, not an anxious mess.

“Want to tell me why?”

He wanted to rail about Hayden, but he needed to be calm, something he’d once been able to do. “I’ve run into a couple of problems, and I’m worried.”

“Okay. Let’s talk it through and see if we can sort it.”

Anthony closed his eyes and hoped Mick’s version of sorting it out didn’t involve having him arrested. Mick had always been reasonable, and encouraging, even admitting that a class on résumé writing and interview skills was a waste of time, but the box needed to be checked.

Where was the best place to start?

With the smallest issue.

“One of Rafe’s old friends approached me and offered me a job. I called him, but the offer doesn’t feel right. So as much as I need?—”

“Don’t take the job. It won’t look good on your review, plus it may lead to temptations that will end with you doing another stretch. Can I have the name of Rafe’s friend?”

Anthony deliberated for a couple of seconds. “Frank Farring, I didn’t keep the business card, but I can send you his number.”

“Much appreciated. If he’s approached you, he may approach Liam.”

“That’s my next problem. I go running along the beach near my sister’s place. Liam knows where she lives and…” He paused, not wanting to mention the letter. Even if the PI had seen Liam at the house, that didn’t mean he knew about the letter. “He was on the path, waiting for me.”

“What did you do?”

He needed to confess, despite the risk. “I stopped, we had a quick talk, and I reminded him this can’t happen. I don’t want to go back.” He missed his friends, and surviving on the outside would be easier if he and Liam were in it together. He squeezed the bottle, and the plastic crinkled. Condensation dripped onto his jeans.

“I know you don’t, and running into each other once on the public path isn’t enough for that to happen. If you keep running into him, however, that’s not going to look great for him, as he doesn’t live near your sister. Is that the only time you’ve seen him?”

“Yes.” Though not the only contact.

“If you see him again, you need to go past him without stopping.” The edge of warning was sharp beneath the words. Once was chance, twice was a habit that might see him locked up before he’d made up an excuse.

“That will be hard. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I’ll talk to his parole officer.”

“I didn’t tell you to get him into trouble.” He was trying to protect them both.

“It’ll be a friendly reminder as long as he’s behaving in other areas.”

Was Liam behaving? Anthony didn’t know, but he hoped that Liam wasn’t going to be punished for it.

“I’m glad you spoke to me before things escalated. It’s much better to be honest early.”

He scuffed his shoe on the concrete path, drawing a line in the sand that dusted the surface. “Yeah. I’m not sure about my next problem.”

Mick laughed. “Have you been saving them up? You can call me if you have an issue.”

Anthony wanted to force out a laugh, but nothing emerged except for a gasp like a landed fish. “No, they all came to a head.” And the only reason he was being honest was because of the PI. “My brother is causing problems.”

“Not all family members are supportive. We had that discussion.”

“He’s having me followed and is harassing…” He paused for a moment, not sure what to call Cillian, only that he wasn’t an experiment. “I’ve been seeing someone. It’s very casual.”

Mick made a noise that could be agreement or disgust. It was hard to tell. “There is nothing illegal about your brother hiring someone to have you followed. However, he can’t harass the people you are spending time with until they stop associating with you. Are you worried he’ll do the same when you find work?”

He hadn’t realized that fear existed until Mick gave it life. “Yes.”

“Leave that one with me.”

“Hayden’s a lawyer. He’s always delighted in kicking people when they are down.” Now he sounded like a whiny five-year-old. “I need to live somewhere else. Then I can’t run into Liam, and my siblings will be less inclined to interfere.”

“You think your sister is part of it?”

Now he sounded paranoid. “I think she believes she’s helping.” But if she still expected her brothers to make peace, she was sorely mistaken. That would never happen.

“Did you only confess to meeting Liam because you realized you were being followed?”

Anthony sighed, unable to lie. “Yeah, but I only saw him the once, and I don’t want it to happen again. I want to move on.” And he couldn’t do that with one foot in the past. Liam and Rafe and Farring were everything he needed to leave behind.

So was Hayden.

He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life competing with his brother or scrambling to regain what he’d lost. That was impossible without doing something illegal or winning the lottery.

Hayden expected him to play and lose. But if he didn’t play, Hayden couldn’t win.

He needed to choose a new game, one that would steal the oxygen from the room so his brother had nothing to fight with. Perhaps, though, the new game was simple: a small boring job, while his boyfriend stood in the spotlight.