Page 44 of Finders Keepers
“I get it, but he seems like a keeper, Brother Bear.”
“I know. I want to. I just...” Nate exhaled. “It’s fucking scary.”
“I know. I’m here for you, for what it’s worth.”
“It’s worth a lot, thanks.” He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if Claire had rejected him when he’d confessed his sexuality to her when he was in college and she’d been a senior in high school. But she’d hugged him and told him she loved him and that he would always be her Brother Bear.
He wasn’t sure where his parents stood on the matter, although he’d given up worrying about their opinion years ago. Coming out had never been a possibility. Not in pro hockey. Now, there was Wesley. And this team. But he’d cross that threshold when he got there. “Gotta go.”
“Okay. Bye.”
The call disconnected, and he grabbed his suit coat off the passenger seat. He couldn’t wait to tell Wesley about theamazing turn of events. The future now had options Nate never thought possible. He wasn’t sure he was ready, but they were his for taking.
Chapter Fifteen
Wesley stared at his phone. His hand trembled so badly, he could barely re-read the message. But he didn’t have to. The words were seared into his brain.
Hand over the thumb drive or the whole world learns about Mr. Hennessey’s secret life.
If you say a word to him, the secret comes out.
Wesley texted back his agreement. What else could he do? He still had no idea what thumb drive they were talking about, but it didn’t matter. He’d worry about that when he got home. Thank God Nate was at his appointment with the team.
Wesley shoved his phone into his back pocket and tore through the condo, collecting his things. His school materials were hastily packed back into their original bags and boxes. Everything else—clothes, toiletries, loose items—went into a couple of garbage bags. He hated just disappearing after everything Nate had done for him—had told him. The thought of walking away without a word shredded his heart, but the text had been clear.
He made one last hurried pass through each room and hauled every bag, box, and case to the elevator and then shoved it all in the stainless-steel car. In the parking garage, he dragged it all back out into a haphazard pile on the concrete. He jogged to his car and pulled it up alongside the jumbled mound.
Thank God he’d parked on the visitor level. If Nate arrived home, he’d enter through the resident gate which would put him on the second level. Wesley had no idea how he would have explained this frantic evacuation.
Once the car was loaded, he sat for a few minutes to catch his breath and cool off. He blasted the AC on his face and neck. Thiswouldhave to happen on the hottest day of the year. Hetook long deep breaths to settle his heart rate a bit before hitting the road.
Wesley stopped at a nearby ATM for cash. His heart pounded. He needed a plan and fast. Even if he’d had whatever thumb drive “they” were talking about, turning it over was no guarantee that Nate’s secrets would stay that way. He had to protect Nate. He had to protect himself. But how?
A quick stop at a gas station for a prepaid phone—and gas while he was there—then a secluded spot in the parking lot of a nearby fast-food joint. With trembling fingers, he dialed Nate’s agent.
Thank God he’d thought to ask about Nate’s emergency contact. The fact that it was his agent seemed strange at the time, but now, the agent was the perfect person to call.
The other end rang once, twice—
“Wade Latham here.”
Wesley breathed a small sigh of relief. “Mr. Latham, I’m a friend of Nate Hennessey’s. Nate’s secret is being threaten—”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I don’t have much time, sir. My name is Wesley Byerly, known to you probably as Ashton Morgan…” He gave him the TL;DR version of how he ended up in Nate’s life, finishing with the care Nate had given him over the last week and the latest threat via text. “My attackers have threatened to out Nate if I don’t hand over some thumb drive. So I’ve left the condo to keep him safe. You need to protect Nate’s secret. I’m on a burner phone right now. Verify my identity with Nate, but please don’t let him get involved. I don’t want to bring any more trouble down on him.”
Wesley squirmed through the muttering and keyboard clacking on the other end of the line. “That’s a pretty big coincidence. The only unlocked car in the whole parking lot belonged to Nate?”
“Well, just the first unlocked one I found. I don’t know how or why—I don’t have time to think about it right now. Mr. Latham, promise me you’ll protect Nate.”
“Of course, I will. That’s my job. But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. I gotta go.”
Wesley stepped out of his car, dropped the phone to the ground, and stomped it with his heel, the plastic crunching under his shoe. He scooped up the pieces and dumped them in a nearby dumpster. Then he got into his car and headed home.
He’d never been religious, but for the entire drive to Plattsmouth, he said every prayer he could think of for Nate’s protection; he prayed even harder that some guardian angel was close enough to hear them.
