Chapter 28

Emerging from the shadows,I stood in a hallway in front of Won-Ho's door. This invitation was long overdue. I had been surprised when the offer came with a dress code. Never one to disappoint, I ensured the buttons on my suit were neatly fastened.

I prepared to knock when the door opened. Won-Ho looked… stunning. I'd never tire of seeing him in a suit. The fabric struggling to contain the man's girth might have something to do with that. The hope of those clothes hitting the floor was dashed when I spotted the sadness in his eyes. My experience with handling emotions was minuscule, at best.

"Are you okay?"

He gestured for me to come in. His lack of response had me worried. Won-Ho had made strides over the last few weeks. I delighted in him rediscovering his spark, that little light that brought him joy. I even heard there was a new hero in Vanguard matching his description. However, his expression appeared as if the light had been drained from his eyes.

He shut the door, escorting me inside. When he took my hand, lacing his fingers between mine, I'll admit I enjoyed the display of affection. Guiding me down the hallway, we reached a living room far more grand than reasonable for a pro bono lawyer. Modern and sparse decor, exactly what I expected of Won-Ho.

I spotted the charity artwork over his fireplace. I didn't think it was a particularly wonderful piece of art, but it fit his sense of style. It reminded me of that first conversation at the charity gala. It felt as if it were a life ago. Only two months had passed. I had wanted to throw Won-Ho on the bed and use him with reckless abandon. Now, we held hands like a schoolyard romance.

"Won…"

He let out a long sigh. "I want you to meet someone."

With the serious tone, I half-expected for him to confess to a secret marriage. I crossed my fingers that he invited me to meet the dog. Squaring my shoulders, I prepared myself for a startling revelation.

He walked across the living room to a narrow table against the rear wall. I followed, unsure of where this would lead. Sulfur filled the air as he lit a match. The scent of burning was replaced with the smell of lilacs. The stream of smoke made tiny circles over his shoulder.

I stepped to his side, surprised to see the shrine. The incense hung in a small cup to the side. There were two pictures of women. I didn't have to ask to know the older woman was Min and the younger, Jin-Ae. Despite everything Won-Ho had been through, he continued honoring those he called family. I understood the magnitude of standing here, in front of the two people, who, for better or worse, shaped his life. Instead of hollow platitudes, I reached out, holding his hand.

"Damien, I'd like you to meet Min and Jin-Ae."

Did I say hello? Wave? I settled on a nod of acknowledgment. The longer I looked at the picture of Jin-Ae, the more I saw the amalgamation of her parents. "She has your eyes."

His hand squeezed mine. This had to be difficult. Two separate parts of his world collided. For him, this was a monumental step forward, and I hoped that it'd continue his healing process.

"She had a laugh that made your heart swell. She got that from her mother. Despite everything, that's the memory that stays with me." He grew quiet as he walked the line between memory and reality. "I think Jin-Ae would want me in Dae's life. Everybody needs family."

I wanted to argue his statement. I had no family linked by blood. Even the best foster families had long since moved on. My family consisted of a trio of men with more issues than a magazine stand. Between the therapist possessed by a denizen from hell, the shapeshifting simpleton, and the brooding hothead, I had found… dare I say, family? Yes, I guess I would.

"Damien, you've gently nudged me along. I want you to know I'm trying to be brave."

These were the moments citizens didn't see. They saw heroes and villains wielding powers fighting amongst themselves. Behind the special effects and costumes, there were real people. They were far more complicated than a simple app gave them credit for. He could summon a dragon and punch through walls, but in the quiet of his home, Won-Ho fought to build bridges between his past and future.

I wanted to explain myself, to say I wanted the best for him. What had started as a curiosity had grown into a desire to see him succeed. For weeks, I had tried to identify and isolate my motivations. Why did I care as much as I did? The answer had been in the question. I cared. Won-Ho had bypassed the lock guarding my heart. I nearly wretched at the dangerous levels of saccharine.

"Bravery is living your truth. I hope you see it as often as I do."

"Who would have thought that Damien Vex would be my guardian angel? Behind that ruthless exterior, there is a big softie."

While Won-Ho wrestled with his identity, I had my own inner battle. I feared that this attachment between us had softened my edges. The corpse of Carmen LaToya or Stephen Hurdler said otherwise. If anything, I had become a savage, ready to unleash hell on any who threatened our bond. No, it was not weakness. My exterior remained razor sharp, but the interior… that had softened. I had grown comfortable with this new reality.

"I blame you."

"I accept that blame."

I kissed his cheek. For a moment, I considered ignoring our plans for the evening. Won-Ho had gifted me an atrocious pair of flannel PJs that still needed a test drive. He claimed they were the most comfortable thing in the world. I needed more convincing. He only wanted a softer perch for his head when we spent the evening on the couch. For him, I'd trade in my dress slacks for something as novel as… flannel. God, if I didn't have feelings for this man, he'd drive me crazy.

"Are you sure you're up for tonight?"

He nodded. "The real question is, are you?"

"Not even a little," I admitted. "This is going to be a disaster."

He tried fighting the grin and lost the battle. Won-Ho took a sadistic pleasure in watching me act like a normal person. While I opened my heart for this relationship and wanted nothing but the best for him, he gently poked at my insecurities. We had found a rhythm of pushing the other out of our comfort zones.

His skin glowed a vibrant blue as he summoned the zodiac. "Then let the disaster begin…"

* * *

"Does Vex have a massive painting of himself over the fireplace?"

"Clint…"

"Over the bed?"

"Clint."

"Does he scream his own name in the bedroom?"

"Clint!"

I drew back my fist, ready to pummel the man. I didn't care if the owners of Haven threw me out for breaking the rules. Clint threw his hands up, his face shifting into a perfect replica of Won-Ho. I admit, it saved him from getting a black eye. He winked at me for good measure.

"Clint, what have we talked about?" Hank said.

"Use my inside voice?"

"The other thing."

"Only talk about people when they're not in earshot?"

Hank gave him a kiss on the cheek. "That's the one."

Clint decided after our latest adventure that our partners needed to meet. He wasn't fooling anybody. Clint wanted to show off his beau, Hank. The way he blushed every time his boyfriend touched him, it was obvious he found a suitable mate. Anybody who kept Clint in check deserved a badge of honor.

That's when Hank's reputation with me plummeted. "Besides, I bet he masturbates to porn of himself." They were perfect for one another. Aggravating but perfect.

I stared at the line of bottles behind the bar. Their top shelf left something to be desired. I had half a mind to pay a bartender to run out and buy real bourbon and not this drivel. Just as I flagged him down, Diesel cozied up to my side, pulling my arm down to the bar.

He slid a bottle of beer in front of me. "For tonight, try to be a real person."

"And your definition of real means lowering my standards and consuming what I expect tastes like processed piss?"

He held up his bottle in a salute. "Believe it, Vex." I spun the bottle around, looking at the label. It was one of those brands that only advertised during sporting events. I raised it until I caught a whiff. I was already slumming it with my patronage. Now, he wanted me to wallow in the gutter.

I reached forward, my arm vanishing into the bottle's shadow. I found the bottle of bourbon I kept in my study. Pulling it through the portal, I shot him a smile. "We can be chums, but I'm not sacrificing my tastebuds to prove it." I flagged down the bartender and held up two fingers while pointing to the bottle. After a quick eye roll, he slid two glasses across the counter.

"You're insufferable."

"I'm discerning. There's a difference." I poured two glasses and slid one in front of him. "Instead of degrading myself, I'm making it my mission to raise you from the gutter."

"How noble." He slammed the bourbon. No appreciating. No savoring. He downed several hundred dollars as if it were nothing. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "How are you doing?"

"With?"

"Vex… Damien. In the last few months, you've fallen from grace. Resurrected yourself. You've found a man who puts up with your bullshit. Oh, and should I mention you partnered with your arch nemesis?"

The air quotes weren't lost on me.

"I'm good." It wasn't a platitude. It had been a week since burying a grudge to kill a psychopath. I had revisited the situation often, trying to decide if I had made the right choice. I glanced over my shoulder at Won-Ho, sitting with Calum and Doc. If setting aside my animosity for Bernard meant saving Won-Ho, I'd do it again without hesitation. "I'm really good."

Diesel patted me on the back. "I never thought I'd see Damien Vex in love with anybody other than himself." Love, four letters that I once held at bay. As Won-Ho laughed at something Doc said, I didn't fear it. I could try to analyze our relationship until I rationalized my feelings, but had that unknown curiosity been love from the beginning?

"I do love him."

Diesel's hand gripped my shoulder. I prayed he didn't make a scene. It'd normally be the type of thing he and Clint would laugh about until my face turned red.

"Make sure he knows that." He wasn't subtle with the nudge that nearly knocked me to the floor. I took the hint, though it disturbed me that Diesel hadn't taken the opportunity to get in his jabs. I'm sure I'd suffer for it later.

I grabbed the bourbon and glass and passed Santiago, who shared a story about a car he once stole. Clint and Hank were captivated. If we all threw our past crimes into the conversation, we'd be here for days. As much as I wanted to hear how the tale ended, I needed to make sure Doc hadn't gotten his hooks in Won-Ho.

"What are you gentlemen discussing?"

"Trying to understand why somebody this dashing puts up with you." Doc turned, smiling. Havres seeped to the forefront. "They have a similar darkness."

"Hush, devil." I took a seat next to Won-Ho. It was one thing to lead him inside a gay bar to watch strangers. My friends were far more dangerous. I'm sure they had plenty of stories at the ready to embarrass me.

"We're taking it easy on the lad," Calum said. The accent alone made me understand why Diesel hid the man from us for so long. "It's not every day you meet Vanguard's first hero."

"Calum, if you're spotted with us, how much trouble will you be in?"

He shrugged. "I have enough dirt on the upper brass to keep my ass safe."

"Blackmail?" I couldn't help but smile. Now I really understood why Diesel kept him around. "Consider me impressed."

"For those who don't speak Vex, that's his highest compliment."

I gave Doc the finger. "You're really trying to justify those college loans, huh?"

It was his turn to raise a finger. "Why are we friends?"

While Won-Ho returned to his story about our first date, I pondered the million-dollar question. Why were we friends? With Carmen dead, I held no allegiance to these men. There would be no more mandatory group therapy sessions where Doc continuously failed at making us upstanding citizens. I wouldn't have to put up with Diesel's jabs or Clint's aloof comments. We had been thrust together against our wills, and over the last months, I came to look forward to these get-togethers, no matter how aggravating.

"…and now he makes us eat at Ha-Yoon's at least once a week. I've caught him more than once taking a lunch break there."

Won-Ho's hand rested on my thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. If he kept his hand there, I'd suffer through every embarrassing story. I wanted to say it had been ages since I spent an evening with friends, but that'd be a lie. I had entertained businessmen, senators, and even foreign delegates, but never friends. My world had changed rather quickly, and for the better.

I poured myself another drink. "I'd like to make a toast."

"Oi. We're not toasting your victory," Calum said. Diesel had been a bad influence on an otherwise delightful man.

"Before incarceration, if you told me I'd be sitting in a pub drinking with a bunch of degenerates?—"

"Degenerate?" Clint asked.

"I'll explain it later," Diesel said.

I shot them a dirty look. "As I was saying…" I got to my feet. "I would have never believed you. And more so, if you told me I'd consider them friends, I'd have laughed. But here we are."

I rested a hand on Won-Ho's shoulder. "To friends."

"And?" Doc asked. Havres poked through. "Yeah, and…"

They were right. I couldn't leave it there. "And to crushing those who stood in our way."

"There he is," Diesel said, raising his bottle in the air.

With eight hands in the air, glasses clanked against bottles. For better or worse, these were the people I called friends. I glanced down at Won-Ho with a smile stretched across his face. I was about to offer him a glass of quality bourbon when the smile turned into a grin. With a wiggle of the eyebrows, I got the impression he had something on his mind other than trading humiliating stories.

With a slight nod of the head toward the door, I nearly dropped my drink. "Well, gents, look at the time. We should probably head out."

Clint looked at his watch. "It's nine-fifteen."

"Tired of us already?" asked Diesel.

Doc laughed, his face dancing between him and Havres. That damned demon would be the death of me. "Leave him be. He's found himself a new obsession." Havres attempted a wink, but with his mangled face, it looked more like a twinge of pain. I'd take it.

They might be friends, but they weren't a handsome man giving suggestive vibes. I'm sure Doc would explain it to Clint and I'd have to suffer another round of ribbing at our next session. When Won-Ho took my hand, giving me a slight tug, I decided it'd be worth it.

Right now, I needed Won-Ho undressed and lying in my bed.