Heal With You (Trials of Fear Book 6)

by Nicky James

  “Right. You’re a shitty liar, FYI.”

  Beck grabbed my chin and dragged me in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, and when we came apart, his grin split his face. “Maybe, but I love fucking with your head. Here.” He handed me a paper plate from another bag. “Load up.”

  We sat at the small table in our room and filled our plates with the overabundance of food Beck had bought. There were sausages, cheese omelets, and croissants along with the other items I’d guessed. It was way more food than we needed, but we enjoyed as much as we could as we talked about the prospect of being back home again.

  It’d been a lot of years since Beck and I left Winnipeg. We’d been eighteen at the time and ready to take on the world. Together, we’d book flights to Ontario, chosen a random destination, and wound up in Dewhurst. I’d enrolled in the Landscaping program at the local college, and Beck had gathered a few random jobs around town to help keep us afloat.

  Since leaving, we’d never gone home.

  “Did you call Mom?” Beck asked as we came to the end of breakfast.

  I snorted as I packed away the rest of the food. “No. And I don’t plan to. She knows when we’re coming, and that’s good enough. We’re already going to be there for a few days. I’ll get my fill.”

  Beck shook his head, the humor on his face not hidden. “She loves you.”

  “She smothers me.”

  I checked the time, and my heart jolted when I saw how late it was getting. For a fraction of a second, my body flooded with a release of adrenaline and I pinched my eyes close to breathe through it.

  “We need to get going soon,” I said, fighting the jittering spasm of my muscles.

  “I know.” Beck touched my face, and I opened my eyes, peering up at where he hovered above me. “Did I fuck you up?”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.”

  He tugged me to standing, and I wrapped my arms around him, settling my head on his shoulder while I kept up even breaths and waited for my heart to calm. “Too bad there isn’t time to get to the gym,” Beck said as he stroked my back.

  I chuckled and shook my head, keeping my face buried in the crook of his neck. “Yeah, right. You’re so sad. Again, I reiterate, you’re a shitty liar.”

  Beck slapped my back and pulled away, studying my face and deciding I’d calmed enough I wasn’t in jeopardy of losing it. “Let’s get a move on. We’re supposed to be at the airport early and we still have to check out and return the car, and it’s a bit of a drive.”

  Not once in our travels did Beck mention what he’d been up to that morning. It was like it had never happened. Like the secret phone calls, mysterious smirks, and hidden agenda were nothing more than the product of my imagination.

  I hated that whatever it was Maria knew.

  By the time our plane landed in Winnipeg, I’d ejected all thoughts of Beck’s secrecy from my mind. Hand in hand, we wandered to Baggage Claim, scanning the faces and searching for my parents.

  My leg had decided to ache after being crunched up in the plane seat for so long so I clutched my thigh as I hobbled beside Beck, trying not to favor my good leg, knowing it could make it worse if I didn’t distribute my weight evenly on my prosthetic leg.

  “You okay?” Beck asked as we waited for our bags to appear on the roller belt.

  “Yeah, just cramped up from the flight.”

  I still had phantom limb pain from time to time, but I’d learned to live with it. This wasn’t the same.

  “How about you let me take the bags.”

  I didn’t argue. When they slid along the belt toward us, Beck grabbed both, and we headed toward the exit where I hoped Dad was waiting to pick us up.

  “Text them and see where they’re at,” Beck suggested.

  I dug my phone out and stopped walking long enough to connect a call to my dad’s phone instead. My parents weren’t great with technology. Exchanging texts could take all day.

  “Hello!” Dad’s voice boomed through the phone.

  “Hey, Dad. Where are you at? We are just leaving Baggage Claim. Are you nearby?”

  “I’m waving. Look up.”

  I scanned the busy area and chuckled when I saw my dad with his arm in the air looking like he was flagging down a plane instead of a person. I shook my head and nudged Beck. “Over there. Not sure how we missed them.”

  Mom clung to Dad’s arm. She too waved as we approached. It was a whole lot of waving when Beck joined in, and I ducked my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “Don’t encourage them,” I mumbled at Beck.

  “Cheer up. They’re excited to see you.”

  “I know.”

  Once we made it to them, we were both smothered in hugs. It was the first time we’d been around my parents as an official couple, so I didn’t miss the way Mom’s eyes glimmered and the extra large smile on her face when Beck grabbed my hand again.

  “It’s so good to see you two again,” Mom gushed. “And look at you all in love.”

  Jesus, this was going to be a long few days. I feared her comment would cause Beck to retreat, but he brought our clasped hands to his mouth and kissed them with an equally huge grin on his face.

  “Believe it,” he said.

  Dad helped Beck with our bags and Mom hooked herself onto my other arm. We left the airport and found Dad’s car in the lot.

  It was a forty-minute drive to our small neighborhood, and Beck and I couldn’t stop remarking on all the things that had changed over the years as we drove through our old stomping grounds.

  “Holy crap, that’s new,” I said, pointing to a three-story office building which sat where the old post office used to be.

  “Yup,” Dad said. “The post office had a fire about ten years back. Too much damage. They tore it down, and the lot stayed empty until about three years ago. They built that monstrosity instead. The post office is on Hubbard Street now.”

  “Is that the library?” Beck said, indicating out his window to another building across the street.

  “Yup. They added a second story,” Mom explained. “There is a little café up there too. It’s very modern now. Nothing like when you boys used to go there. They run programs and everything.”

  Everything seemed so different than how I remembered it. Smaller. What I remembered in my head for all those years we’d been gone turned out to be a much grander version of reality.

  When Dad pulled onto the street where Beck and I grew up, we both fell quiet. We passed Beck’s old house first, and I caught the way his gaze lingered. His parents were long gone, living who knows where. He’d severed all contact with them when he left, and I respected his decision. It was still a subject he didn’t talk about much.

  They weren’t good people, and he’d struggled growing up. I was grateful my parents had opened their home and their hearts to him long ago. Whatever hard feelings he carried toward his parents, he carried them close to the heart and didn’t share. I only hoped someday he’d let me in.

  Then we arrived.

  Dad pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, and I couldn’t fight the smile. “It looks exactly the same,” I observed.

  “Yup. Haven’t changed much since you left. Furniture and whatnot, but that’s it,” Dad said.

  “Your room is still the same,” Mom added. “Except for the bed. We upgraded it to a queen when we found out you boys were coming home. We suspected you and Beck would be sharing?” Mom turned in her seat, and the twinkle in her eyes was hard to miss.

  Nice and embarrassing. Great.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, dodging her line of sight and urging Beck to vacate the vehicle pronto so I didn’t get dragged into some kind of sex conversation with my mother.

  Beck chuckled as he got out and helped Dad with the luggage in the trunk. I stretched and rubbed my tight thigh as I looked around.

  “We should take a walk around the neighborhood and see what all is the same,” I told
Beck.

  “We should. Right now though?” For some reason, a flash of panic crossed his face like I’d suggested something terrifying. Before I could question it or read deeper into its meaning, Mom cut in.

  “How about something to eat first? You boys must be starving after all that traveling. You have time to go later. I made crockpot soup and homemade bread.”

  And as fast as the panic had consumed Beck, it cleared. Relief flooded his whole body, and he clutched his chest as his shoulders slumped. “I’m starving. Let’s eat. Good idea!”

  For a beat, as everyone filed into the house, I watched after my best friend and lover, trying to deduce what the fuck was going on with him. He could only stay quiet for so long. I’d figure him out. I knew him too well for him to hide whatever this was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Rory

  I stared out the airport window at our gate, watching the night sky and all the lights along the runway as they blinked and flashed. Planes came and went. It was four o’clock on Monday morning, and our plane was scheduled to leave in just over an hour. Adrian had successfully found us the earliest flight available to eliminate as much sunlight exposure for me as possible which meant leaving the hotel in the middle of the night.

  Adrian had crashed a while ago, lying across a strip of vacant plastic chairs nearby, using my duffle bag as a pillow. The poor guy was exhausted. He’d been up late with Dr. Kelby the previous night tearing down all the conference stuff and helping her and Dr. Mann with clean up, so by the time he’d made it back to the room, he’d barely managed two hours before we had to be up and moving.

  We’d be arriving in Vancouver at just after seven thirty local time. The sun would be up, and the drive to my parents’ was extensive since they didn’t live directly in Vancouver. Adrian had booked a Greyhound bus for our journey since neither of us drove and my dad worked and couldn’t make the trip to collect us.

  I was trying not to think about it.

  Three hours on a bus in the daylight. Three fucking hours. Even if it had tinted windows, I was going to be a wreck. Adrian had suggested I take the Ativan for the bus ride. He’d said it would probably knock me out, and if I was asleep, then I couldn’t be anxious.

  I clutched the bottle in my pocket, considering, wishing I could handle it without the use of drugs. Showing up at my parents’ house all stoned up wasn’t the first impression I wanted to make after being absent for seven years.

  But three hours?! My blood heated just thinking about it.

  I rattled the negative thoughts and worries from my head and joined Adrian, sitting on the seat near his head and watched him sleep. His glasses were falling crookedly off his face, so I gently removed them and hooked them onto the front of my T-shirt for him. His thick hair fell in his eyes, so I reached out and brushed it aside. I’d always loved the way it felt between my fingers.

  He sighed with the contact and a faint smile creased his mouth.

  This man had pulled me from the brink and showed me the right path. Without him, I didn’t know where I’d be. Lost. Alone. Probably still hiding in the shadows without any concept of love.

  Adrian’s face scrunched before he let out a yawn and stretched, his hands reaching for me. His shirt lifted a fraction and showed the smooth skin below his navel, a place I knew was ticklish.

  Adrian blinked sleep heavy eyes in my direction, squinting and smiling. “You’re all blurry and upside down,” he said. “Where are my glasses?”

  I slid them from my shirt and fit them back on his face, my heart fluttering when he gave me one of his bashful, shy smiles I adored. “You get some sleep?” I asked.

  “Some. Not exactly comfortable here.”

  “I bet.”

  “What time is it?”

  I checked my phone and grimaced. “Four thirty. We’ll be boarding soon.”

  “You doing okay?” he asked, shuffling to sit and removing my duffle to the ground so he could slide right over beside me. Then he studied me closely, searching for any and all signs I wasn’t coping.

  “Trying not to think about it. Best I handle it as it comes.”

  He nodded and diverted his gaze to the streams of people gathering nearby before peering over his shoulder and lifting his chin to see farther as he looked back toward a string of shops and boutiques.

  “Looking for something?”

  “Coffee. I could really use a boost. I’m so groggy and tired, but the flight isn’t that long then we get the bus immediately and we might not get another chance to grab something.”

  I followed his gaze and noticed a little coffee and sandwich place with a fairly short line. “Gotcha. I’ll be back. Do you want something to eat too?”

  He puckered his lips and met my gaze. “Sure, but nothing big. Airports gouge you. Just something to hold us until we get to your parents’.”

  I left Adrian to sort out our boarding passes while I lined up, both hands shoved deep into my pockets. One hand continuously clutched the bottle of Ativan while the other held a death grip on my smokes, wishing I could step outside and enjoy one.

  There was no time. Plus, once we arrived in Vancouver, it’d be daylight and impossible. Never mind that we had a tight deadline to catch our bus.

  The itch under my skin intensified. One thing fed the other. The more I stressed, the more I needed a smoke. The more I went without a smoke, the more my stress elevated.

  When it was my turn to order, I grabbed two large coffees, a chocolate chip muffin for me, and a cinnamon raisin biscuit for Adrian—knowing he loved anything cinnamon and would probably whine about the extra calories if I got him a cakey muffin. Stupid Krew messing with his head.

  Adrian could rock skinny jeans any day of the week if he wanted to. In fact, he’d look even better than Krew in them because he had a better ass than Krew. All round and pronounced. I loved Adrian’s ass.

  However, because I valued my testicles, I knew better than to ever shared that opinion with my best friend.

  I balanced our coffees in one hand—one on top of the other with my chin rested on top—while I pulled my phone out to check the time. The announcement call rang through the overhead speakers, informing passengers that our flight was boarding, so I knew it was nearing five.

  Adrian grabbed our luggage, and we lined up and got situated on the plane.

  The flight was short, so once we’d gotten comfortable in our seats, devoured our small breakfast, and chatted for a few minutes, the pilot announced our descent into Vancouver.

  I’d kept our window cover closed the entire flight, but I knew from random glances at other windows that the sun was breaking the horizon. Color slowly chased away my comforting shadows until the morning streaks of pink and orange bled up from the east. Before we officially landed, that sun would be fully risen.

  My heart responded and skin buzzed. I fidgeted and fought through the rising panic, but I wasn’t kidding anyone. Especially Adrian.

  “Want to take something?” he asked, always aware of my state of mind without my having to vocalize it.

  “Is it cheating if I do? Should I just grow a fucking pair and face it?”

  “Rory, it’s not cheating. This is a lot to take on at once. Erin would tell you it was brave. Taking something to help calm your nerves doesn’t make you a failure.”

  “Feels like it does.”

  Adrian sighed and tugged my hand onto his lap even when I protested. “The effects of the Ativan will mostly be worn off by the time we get to your parents’ house. All it will do is help you through the worst of this journey. Take it. It’s a low dose. You won’t be stupid on it if that’s what you’re worried about. It will just take the edge off.”

  I tugged the pill bottle from my pocket as the plane descended and the attendants did a final sweep through the cabin for garbage and to remind people to adjust their seats forward for landing. Dr. Kelby had prescribed two lonely little pills. One for the flight to Edmonton and one for the flight home. Two still remained i
n the bottle since I’d refused to take it that first day.

  I blew out a breath and ran all the information around my head again and again. My hands trembled, and a sheen of sweat made the bottle slippery in my grasp.

  It wasn’t like getting to Edmonton. Three hours on a bus in the daytime was a big deal. Windows lined that bus. Ones I couldn’t simply block out or ignore.

  “Okay. Okay, I’ll take one. I’m trying, Adrian. I’m really trying.”

  Adrian took my face and brought his closer. His serious expression startled me silent. “You aren’t just trying. You’re doing. And you’re doing amazing, Rory. Do not count this as failure. This is a win. This is something to be proud of. It’s a step you never would have considered a year ago. Think of it that way.”

  He kissed me once before tugging a bottle of water free from the satchel he’d been using as a carry-on. I took the pill, hoping it wouldn’t make me too stupid, and lay back in the seat with my eyes closed as the plane took us down and the sun continued to rise.

  Adrian’s hand never left mine. His touch was sure and grounding.

  I needed it because my heart was in my throat.

  The scramble to get off the plane was dampened by the near immediate effects of the Ativan. My world softened around the edges like it’d been cushioned by cotton candy and everything kind of bounced off me without bothering me in the least.

  Normally, I hated being crowded by strangers.

  Today, I barely noticed them.

  Adrian kept a death grip on my hand and dragged me along. I followed, stumbling a bit on my uncoordinated feet, less certain where we were going but trusting him to guide me.

  Fuck this stuff was good.

  More than once, I forgot to be worried about our impending trip in the sunshine as I got lost in the floating, slow-moving world passing me by.

  “Rory… Rory?”

  I shifted my head to find Adrian, and the surrounding airport took an extra second to catch up. My brain was all soft and squishy like someone had wrapped it in bubble wrap—around my ears too because all the crazy noise was dampened and less annoying.

  “There you are,” I exclaimed when I found him. I couldn’t turn off the stupid grin plastered to my face even though I knew somehow it looked too big and toothy.