Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Justin had been back four weeks, and he still waited for 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.

The closer they got to the ranch, the more the words of love burned inside Justin.

He could do this. He could love someone and not lose them.

After all, he had Ethan back in his life, and by extension, Adam. Dad was doing well—his last scans were positive—and even Henry had taken to talking to Justin every once in a while. Although Henry did point out that Adam had the excuse of amnesia not to have come home, and Justin was just an asshole. Justin didn't even answer that.

By supper they had Ben and Ginny in a cabin, and finally there was nowhere left to run.

Sam looked tired and pissed at his parents, at his brother, at the world. He was tense and avoided talking to Ashley as he went back through Branches. She asked him how his brother was, and all he did was grunt.

Justin explained a little, and then followed Sam upstairs.

"I should be in the restaurant," Sam announced as Justin walked through the door. He was pulling on his whites, and even Justin could see he was uncoordinated.

So Justin did what he knew was best. He shoved Sam backward onto the bed and straddled him. His thigh burned, a combination of a hard hospital chair and driving, but he didn't move from pinning Sam to the bed.

"Get off me!" Sam snarled. "You'll crease my whites."

"You don't need them tonight." Justin kept his tone even.

"Get. Off. Me."

Sam was clearly not giving up, so Justin kissed him, hard and forcefully enough until Sam relaxed under him and opened his mouth for more.

This was never the problem. Sex was good; kissing was good.

Justin released his hold a little, only enough to check Sam wasn't going to bolt, and then he pushed off Sam's whites and pulled down his underwear. At least Sam was hard.

In a smooth move, Justin swallowed him down to the fingers he'd wrapped around Sam's cock, and he didn't give up until Sam buried his fingers in Justin's hair and gripped hard.

"Justinnnn," Sam whined.

Justin knew Sam was close. He stopped his attention on Sam's cock and instead climbed his body, kissing him and holding him close, rocking gently. He wanted to see Sam come, wanted to tell him at the very moment of release.

"Keep your eyes open," Justin ordered as Sam peaked and gasped his completion.

"Justin…"

"I love you, Sam, I love you." Then he was coming.

Sam stared up at him for the longest moment; then he pulled Justin down for a kiss. "I love you too."