Page 56 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Mrs. McMillan nodded in agreement. “I will.”

As the rest of the crowd introduced themselves, Alexander spotted two familiar faces emerging from the thick morning fog engulfing the island. The closer they got, the more their colors showed.

“Baby,” Alexander whispered into Elliot’s ear, and when he looked into Alexander’s eyes, Elliot had an almost punch-drunk look of love on his face.

“I love when you call me that.”

Alexander placed his hand against the small of Elliot’s back. “I know. I like saying it.” He darted his eyes toward the two men headed in their direction. They looked happier than the last time they’d seen each other. When he last left the island, they were worried out of their mind about Ms. Broussard being hot on their trails. No matter how many times Alexander reminded the bonded beaus that Sugarplum Island was a safe place for them, they were terrified. Thankfully, his mother kept an eye on them in his absence.

Alexander waved at the men, welcoming them over. The moment Elliot caught sight of them, his eyes must have doubled in size. He gripped Alexander’s arm.

“Their eyes,” he whispered. “They’re like me?”

Alexander kissed his forehead. “Yeah. They’re just like you.” The men stopped in front of them, their gripped hands melded so tightly together that their knuckles had gone white. Nervous orange light flooded their eyes, but Alexander didn’t want them to be nervous. He hated seeing them scared. Ever since rescuing Duck from his abusive husband and hiding him and Goose away from the world on Sugarplum Island, Alexander tried his hardest to keep them both happy and healthy. The islanders had taken them under their wings in Alexander’s absence, but he still called to check on them almost every day. He motioned toward the man on the left. “Elliot, this is Duck.” He turned his attention to his former fiancé. “And this is Goose.”

Color sparkled around Elliot’s eyes. An endless flickering of pinks and purples. “Goose,” he said. “You were the bountiful beau he purchased first?”

Goose nodded. “Yeah.”

Elliot sidestepped in front of Alexander. “You cannot have him back. I don’t mean to be a spoilsport, but he’s mine now.” Alexander’s heart fluttered in his chest. He wanted to tell Elliot he had nothing to worry about, Goose and Alexander had never shared an intimate or romantic spark. Not even before Alexander knew about Goose’s feelings for Duck. For three months, Alexander tried to ignite a spark, but looking back, Goose always had one foot out the door. Duck was the center of Goose’s world. Of course, it didn’t take Alexander terribly long to figure out what they were up to. But Duck made Goose happy, and Goose’s happiness was what mattered most, Alexander supposed. When the truth came to light—the night Duck and his purchaser’s home went up in flames—Goose told Alexander once that when the pair were still in Louisiana, they inadvertently bonded to each other by giving one another nicknames. Alexander knew the naming process was meant to create a tether between suitor and beau, but Goose introduced himself as Gus that first day, so Alexander just went along with it, not knowing it would hinder their connection. He regretted nothing, as it led Goose to Duck, and Alexander to Elliot.

Goose cocked his head to the side. “We’ll see about that.” As Elliot ground his teeth, Alexander sighed, because he could see the flashing mischievous lights in Goose’s eyes.

“We most certainly will not,” Elliot warned.

Goose stepped closer and tapped the tip of Elliot’s nose. “I know, I’m sorry. I was only joking. You have nothing to worry about, Elliot. I’m quite happy with my Ducky-Duck.” He turned and held his hand out for Duck—always the more skittish of the pair—nervously approached, looking frightened.

“Hi,” Duck whispered, quickly shaking Elliot’s hand before ducking behind Goose nervously.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Goose said. “He didn’t go to a good home at first, and he still struggles with it.” Goose turned and cupped Duck’s cheeks, gently kissing the man to reassure him.

Elliot nodded. “I didn’t go to a good home, either. Did your suitor harm you?”

Duck swallowed, and Alexander, ever protective, had to resist the urge to comfort him. “He harmed me often,” Duck admitted.

To Alexander and Goose’s surprise, Elliot wrapped his arms around Duck and pulled him close for a hug. “Mine, too,” Elliot whispered. “He was a horrible man with nothing but hate in his heart.”

“He was?” Duck asked, holding onto Elliot just as tightly.

“I was forced to power down several times a day. He often struck me.” When Elliot pulled away, he was giving Duck an empathetic look. Lifting his wrist, he showed Duck and Goose the stitches where Elliot cut out his tracking chip. “I heard a story about you once. About how you cut yourselves open just to set yourselves free.” His jaw trembled, and Alexander wanted to comfort him. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have ever . . .” He grabbed their hands and squeezed. “Thank you. Would you like to be friends? I haven’t had many, but I believe I’d like to be yours.”

Duck’s fearful expression faded. “You want to be my friend?”

Elliot nodded. “Very much so. There aren’t many men who know what we’ve gone through, and I think—” Elliot’s eyes bulged, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, no, no, no.” His voice was full of panic as he lifted his arm, tracing the shape of a star against his skin. Lights flickered to life beneath the flesh, and Alexander noticed a red flashing light in the center of his small rectangular interface.

“What does the red light mean?” Alexander asked. When their eyes met, Elliot’s looked panicked. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, but his voice was slow and muted. Alexander had never heard him sound so strained before. It was like it took every ounce of strength he had to get them out. “Alexander, I . . .” His eyes closed slowly, like a garage door coming down. To Alexander’s surprise, Goose quickly positioned himself behind Elliot. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“He’s powering down,” Goose answered for him. “The red light means his power supply is almost out.”

Alexander’s chest ached. He swore Elliot would never have to power down again. He made the vow, and he meant it more than he’d ever meant anything else. Death. Elliot was dying in front of him. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the charging port he brought with him for the journey.

“We need to find somewhere to plug him in before—”

“Alexander,” Elliot whispered, his voice soft and slow, like a cassette tape on the last of its lifespan. “It’s already hap-hap . . . Happening.”

“Oh, Elliot. I didn’t know you needed rest. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

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