Page 23 of Steal My Heart

Hilliard shrugged. “He can try, but it isn’t going to get very far. I don’t know what he thinks he has to gain by acting that way. It isn’t like I’m going to say, ‘Oh, hey, sorry, here, let me give you the house because you’re such a nice guy.’” He rolled his eyes, and Brian snickered.

But then Brian paled. “Do you think this ‘nice guy’ is just going to go away? I knew guys like him when I was in jail. They think they’re entitled to something, and it doesn’t matter how irrational they are or if what you have has nothing to do with them. If they want something, they find a way to take it.” His voice was so soft, Hilliard had to strain to hear him.

“What did they take from you?” Hilliard asked, suddenly very cold.

“Just some things that Gran brought for me. She sent things to try to help make sure I was as comfortable as possible. She also made sure I always had money in my account. But I never used it, because if I did, one of the men would take what I got. Thieves, bangers, addicts—everyone was in there. The guardswere vigilant and did their best, but these guys didn’t care half the time.” He took a deep breath.

Hilliard didn’t know what to say to that. He got the idea that Brian wasn’t telling him everything, and he didn’t blame him. He knew that he would talk when he was ready. For guys like Brian, their time behind bars was often like soldiers’ time in combat. They didn’t talk about it because it was something they didn’t want to keep reliving, and it wasn’t like most people could understand what they had been through. He took Brian’s hand, still holding it as he checked out the window to make sure Timothy was truly gone.

“Don’t let that ass take anything from you. Your great-aunt left you the house for a reason, and she cut him out of the will for one as well.”

“Yeah. I know that.” He really didn’t like the idea of being here alone with Timothy out there. “It’s just that when people get unreasonable and entitled, they tend to do stupid things, thinking they have some sort of right.” Yet he knew that if Brian stayed, Beverly was going to be alone.

“Do you want me to stay?” Brian asked as if he were reading his mind.

“I’d like that, but doesn’t Beverly need you?” He couldn’t take Brian away in case she needed him.

“Gran will already be in bed.” He pulled out his phone and made a call. “She says she’s fine and will see me in the morning.” Brian stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Hilliard’s waist. “I know you have this ‘go slow’ thing in your head. But….”

Damn, Brian felt so good. Hilliard closed his eyes, just taking in the feel of Brian against him. He tried not to let memories of the last time he had felt this way come forward. It had been years, and…. He pushed thoughts of Alan away.

“The thing is, are you ready for something like what you’re asking for?” Hilliard said, his eyes boring into Brian’s. Hewanted him and wasn’t going to send him on his way. But there was something in his eyes—hesitation, worry perhaps—that gave Hilliard pause.

Brian looked away first. “I don’t know.” His gaze shifted to his feet.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Hilliard said softly.

“Of course there is,” Brian retorted loudly. “I have plenty of reasons. People don’t believe me. Some of them looked down on me when I was accused, and those same people now look down on me because I went to jail. It didn’t matter that I did nothing wrong, and even if I could skywrite proof that I was innocent, they wouldn’t believe it. They would continue to think that I’m the guy who robbed Violet and her family.”

“But you didn’t.” Hilliard placed a hand on each shoulder. “And we can prove it. But we need to make sure our proof has impact and helps us catch the real thief. Everyone is going to know that they treated you badly.” He intended to make sure of it.

“It isn’t going to help. That can’t take away what happened to me,” Brian said softly.

Hilliard nodded. “No, it can’t. No one can do that. I can try to make sure that the truth comes out. Only you can figure out how you live with the past. But know this: I will never hold it against you. Your past is just that—the past. What you have to do, what all of us need to do, is figure out how we are going to deal with it and then live with it.” Hilliard paused, his shoulders slumping.

“What is it?”

“Alan,” he said softly. “I know what shame is. See, I knew Alan had cheated, but I let it go. I thought that if I could make him happy, it would stop. I covered it up because I didn’t want my friends to know. I figured that if I was more—if I was better and made him happier—then he would see what we originallyhad.” He sighed, knowing he had been a complete fool. “I kept thinking that I was the cause and that I could fix it, but in the end it was his behavior, and I had to walk away.” Hilliard shook his head hard as if to get the hurt and shame to empty out of it.

Brian tugged him into a hug, and Hilliard held Brian in return, the two of them comforting each other. They both needed to get past what had been done to them. Hilliard knew that what Alan had done wasn’t of the magnitude of pain that Brian had been through, but this wasn’t a contest about who hurt more, it was about trying to let the other begin to heal.

BRIAN HADcalled his grandmother. Apparently she was already in bed with the dogs and, as Brian relayed, had told him not to worry about a thing. They each had a third beer, and then Hilliard turned off the lights and led the way to the bedroom, holding Brian’s hand. “The bathroom is right there, and I put out an extra toothbrush and towels for you.” He reluctantly released Brian’s hand and went to his bedroom, leaving the door cracked open.

He got undressed and slipped into bed, waiting for Brian, who came inside. As much as he wanted to see Brian in all his glory, if only to see how his imagination measured up, Hilliard turned out the light.

Brian slipped under the covers, lying on his back, looking upward. “There’s nothing to be worried about.” Hilliard slipped his hand across Brian’s chest, lying on his side. Then he held still.

“The last time someone touched me, it was….” He sighed deeply. “I turned to them and tossed them halfway across the room. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I got him away from me. I hurt him, but no one messed with me again—at least not like that.”

“Do I remind you of him?” Hilliard asked.

“No. You remind me of you. You are nothing like him.” Brian put his hand on top of Hilliard’s. “Nothing at all like him.”

“Then go to sleep and try not to worry.”

He sniffed. “Sometimes I have nightmares.”

“We all do. Just different ones.” Hilliard squeezed Brian’s fingers and closed his eyes. “You get comfortable, and we’ll keep the bad things at bay together.” He eased away, and Brian rolled onto his side. Hilliard spooned against him, sharing Brian’s warmth against the cool night air flowing in through the open window.

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