His Heart's Revenge (49th Floor Novels)

by Jenny Holiday

  But no. That wasn’t true. Or it wasn’t all of the truth. As angry as he was at Alex, he was angrier at himself. Because Alex hadn’t just disappeared into the woods; Cary had let him leave. And, worse, he’d let him leave without telling him the truth. Just like he had let Alex leave the wedding without telling him the truth. He’d been trying to preserve his own dignity, to protect his heart. But that was the coward’s way out. Didn’t Alex deserve to know the whole truth? To know exactly what it was he was leaving behind?

  His uncle had been wrong. Sometimes being soft, being the one to yield, was the way to win.

  “Alex!” he shouted at the tree canopy, though he knew it was futile, “Alexander!”

  “Cary?” The return shout was close, and relief flooded Cary’s system, making tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and his legs go all shaky.

  “Which way did you go at the fork?” he yelled, forcing his voice through the lump in his throat.

  “Left,” Alex shouted, and sure enough, when Cary started down the left trail, he was greeted by a light in the distance. He swung his own up to meet it. “Hang on! I’m coming for you!”

  Jesus fucking Christ, those last twenty yards just about killed him. He had to force himself to go slowly. It was dark, and it would be too easy to fall. Finally, he reached Alex, who was sitting on the ground, his back against a tree, left leg propped up on a boulder.

  “I tripped.”

  Cary shone his light at Alex, searching his face for…what? Whatever he’d been hoping to find wasn’t there. Alex’s face was its usual emotionless mask.

  “I fucked up my ankle. I can’t put any pressure on my left leg.”

  Cary allowed himself a flash of anger. “This is why taking off in unfamiliar forests in the middle of the night is a goddamned stupid idea. You’re smarter than that. What were you planning to do?”

  Alex shrugged. “There’s no cell service here, so I was going to wait.”

  “For what?”

  …

  God damn. Why did Cary Bell have to be so fucking irresistible all the time? Even when he was angry, he made Alexander want to rip his clothes off. Alexander had been flooded with relief when he heard Cary’s voice calling his name, but now he was flooded with something else. Lust. It was probably some kind of primal response to being out of danger. He didn’t like it but there was no denying it.

  Alexander sighed. “I was waiting for my knight in shining armor, I guess.” He let his flashlight move up and down Cary’s body. “Or my knight in plaid flannel.”

  The humor worked to diffuse the tension. Cary let his pack fall to the forest floor. Crouching, he angled his light so it illuminated Alexander’s leg. Alexander had already taken off his boot and Cary carefully rolled up his jeans so he could get a look. Alexander’s ankle hurt like hell, but the slight brush of Cary’s hands against his skin as he rolled down Alexander’s sock completely obscured the pain.

  “Hey, now, I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I don’t get naked on the first hike.”

  “Will you shut up?” Cary snapped, examining the swollen flesh.

  “Sorry,” Alexander said. Cary was right—he was being an idiot. “Humor is my defense mechanism.”

  Cary kept his hand on Alexander’s ankle, though there was no reason to. “Defense against what?”

  Alexander hesitated only a moment before saying, “Fear.” He hated being seen as weak, but telling the truth seemed…important just then. “The rational part of me knew someone would come for me tomorrow, but I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night here.”

  Alexander felt the loss when Cary’s hand left his ankle so that he could check his watch. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s nearly one a.m. I brought supplies. I think the best course of action is to stay here until daybreak, and then I’ll hike out until I get cell reception and call for help.”

  Cary lifted his flashlight up so both their faces were bathed in its ambient glow. Alexander nodded his agreement. When Cary didn’t say anything, just kept regarding Alexander with an almost quizzical expression, Alexander added, “Thank you for coming after me.”

  Cary didn’t respond, just got up and started unloading his pack. Silently, he handed Alexander a bottle of water and a granola bar. “I only have my sleeping bag, but let’s get you into it.” He looked around. “Do you want to try to sleep propped up against the tree like that, or do you want to find a flatter surface?”

  “Just unzip it, and throw it over both of us.” When Cary paused, uncertain, Alexander added. “It’s cold as hell out here.” It was the rational thing to do. It was only going to get colder in the hours before the sun came up.

  After a slight pause, Cary nodded and moved to obey. Settling himself next to Alexander, who moved over a bit to give him some space to lean his back against the large tree behind them, Cary settled the unzipped bag over them both. “You’re shivering.”

  He was. He hadn’t realized. “I’m fine,” Alexander said, even as Cary got back up and moved around tucking the edges of the sleeping bag snugly around Alexander’s body on the other side.

  “I’m turning this off to conserve its battery,” Cary said, sliding back in next to Alexander and tucking the edges of the sleeping bag on his side under his legs, making them both into a big, cold Gore-Tex burrito.

  Alexander was struck then by what an elementally nice guy Cary was. He’d always been a nice guy. A nice guy who made a mistake when he was a kid. Alexander’s arms twitched, and he had to check the impulse to wrap them around Cary. But there was no call for that. They would warm up soon enough.

  They passed a few minutes without talking, their breathing the only indications of human life among the sounds of the nocturnal forest all around them.

  Cary cleared his throat, startling Alexander from his thoughts. “So, I…realized something while I was hiking out here after you.”

  “Yeah? You’ve gone all Walden Pond, have you?” Listen to him. A little scare in the woods and he’d turned into a regular stand-up comic. He had to cut this shit out.

  “Nah,” Cary said. “I don’t need years in the woods to reach great insights. I’m a faster learner than that Thoreau guy.”

  Alexander laughed in spite of himself. “So what’s the big insight?” Because suddenly, he really needed to know. Alexander didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that it was so dark. It was strange talking like this without being able to see each other. But it was easier, too. In the dark, he could pretend that all the reasons he shouldn’t be here, snuggled under a sleeping bag with Cary, didn’t exist.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you, and as I walked along thinking about it, I realized that there’s no good reason I haven’t. There’s just fear, or, I don’t know, pride or some shit. And those are stupid reasons not to do something.”

  For the hundredth time today, Alex’s body entered fight-or-flight mode. Except it wasn’t the same as before, when he’d been hiking in with Cary or trying to stave off panic attacks by flirting with Linda. Everything was all mixed up, because his limbs flooded with adrenaline and his heart sped up, but he didn’t want to flee. Or fight.

  “The thing is…” Cary said, clearing his throat again because his voice was catching. “The thing is, I love you.”

  Alexander gasped, so loud that it sounded like wind in the dark forest.

  Then, inexplicably, he heard his mother’s voice.

  Just don’t let it stay broken forever.

  “Don’t say anything,” Cary said quickly. “Just let me finish.”

  Grateful for the reprieve, Alexander slumped back against the tree in shock.

  “When you showed up at that wedding, I was like a fucking teenager again, I was so happy to see you.” Alexander felt Cary’s head fall back against the tree, and Cary huffed a loud exhalation like he was frustrated with himself. “And then I watched Marcus and Rose get married, and, God…I don’t know what happened to me because I usually hate that s
hit. But I wanted that.”

  Alexander’s face burned. He was thankful for the darkness—and the cold. “You mean you—”

  “No,” Cary said sharply. “I’m not done. Just let me talk.” There was a rustling as Cary tried to turn himself in place. Alexander closed his eyes, even though it was dark, afraid to hear more. “I wanted that with you, Alex. And then Rose told me she’s pregnant, and fuck me if I didn’t suddenly want that, too. With you.” He swallowed audibly. “I realized I’ve been in love with you since camp. That’s why none of my relationships have worked out. Because none of them were…you. I know we’re at war and all that, but no matter what else happens, I…thought you should know.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Now that it was apparently his time to speak, Alexander couldn’t. He heaved a shaky breath in. If he spoke, he would cry.

  But maybe that would be okay, a voice somewhere inside him said.

  No.

  He needed to get it together. To think logically.

  He had told Cary earlier that he was using humor to cover his fear. Cary himself had referenced fear too, just now, citing it as a reason he hadn’t told Alexander what was in his heart. That didn’t seem right, though. Cary had walked away from a comfortable life, a guaranteed job, and started his own company. He had more than held his own in the competition for Liu. And he’d spoken those words just now.

  “You’re the bravest person I know,” he said. It was true, and he wanted to tell Cary something good before he broke his heart.

  Cary laughed, but it had a bitter tone to it. “That’s where you’re wrong. I can’t help thinking that if I really had been brave, back then, life might be very different today.”

  “No,” Alexander spoke sharply, but he couldn’t help it. “You made a mistake. We’ve all made mistakes. I’m sorry that I…punished you for it for so long, and…” Jesus, this was too hard. He was shivering now, too, and it wasn’t from the cold. Cary’s arms slid around him, gathering him close. As was always the case, Cary’s touch drained the tension from Alexander’s body. God, it was like a drug, this feeling of not-fighting.

  But he couldn’t let himself have this. He couldn’t let himself want it. He stiffened in Cary’s embrace, summoning the brittleness. Cary must have felt the change because he retracted his arms and said, simply, “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alexander said. “I can’t…be what you want.” His throat was thick. It was hard to get the words out. “I don’t…have it in me.”

  And then Cary’s hands were on his face, brushing away tears. He made himself remain still, forced himself to let it happen. Cary pressed his lips against Alexander’s cheek, chastely. “I know,” he said sadly.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cary woke up first. He was cold, he was sore, and his heart was broken. He thought it had been broken before, but that had been a mere preview of what was to come. The strange thing was, his heart was still, simultaneously, filled with love and concern for Alex, whose head was resting on Cary’s chest as he slept. He saw now that Alex would never let himself get close to anyone. Cary wasn’t flattering himself that it should be him, but to live an entire life, fundamentally alone? It gutted him to imagine it.

  He wanted to touch Alex’s skin, to brush his hair away from his face. His fingers positively itched in their desire to do so.

  But he didn’t have that right, did he? Alex didn’t belong to him. He’d made that very clear last night, even as he had struggled for the exact words to use. Alex didn’t belong to anyone.

  Alex stirred in his arms. It was all Cary could do not to hold him tight, to beg him to reconsider. Knowing this was the last time he would ever touch Alex Evangelista? He had to look up at the sky and blink a few times.

  “Good morning,” Cary said gently, as Alex lifted his head from Cary’s chest, got his bearings, and then pulled away sharply.

  “Everything’s all weird, I know,” Cary went on. “I made things weird, but I had to say my piece.”

  Alex nodded, wincing as he tried to rotate his ankle.

  Cary steeled himself. “So let’s make an agreement. Let’s go back there and finish this stupid competition for Liu.” He moved to kneel at Alex’s feet as he spoke.

  “So…” Alex leaned back against the tree and allowed Cary to examine the still-swollen ankle. “We’re back to may the best man win?”

  “Yes,” Cary agreed. “But for real this time. Really for real. We’ve each done the best we can. Liu picks who he picks.”

  “And then?” Alex prompted.

  “And then it’s over,” Cary said, forcing himself to look into Alex’s eyes.

  Cary’s stomach dropped when, for a second, it looked like Alex was going to object. But all he said was, “All right, then.” Holding on to the tree, he got his good leg under him and somehow scrambled to standing. “Let’s go, then.”

  Annoyance sparked in Cary’s chest, which was good. It was better than this wretched heartbreak. “Are you insane?”

  “It doesn’t hurt as bad as it did last night.”

  Cary clenched his jaw. “You stay here. I’ll hike out and send help.”

  “No.”

  God damn him.

  “All right, then,” Cary said, not caring about his peevish tone. He reached over, and with a grunt, hoisted Alex into his arms.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Calm down. I’m just going to carry you as far as the path.” Their makeshift camp was a few meters off the path, and its uneven terrain was covered with tree roots and rocks. The last thing they needed was for Alex to sustain a new injury.

  “Put me down.”

  “Relax. Your masculine pride will survive, if only because you’re too damned big for me to carry the whole way.”

  …

  Fuck. Fuck his useless ankle. Fuck Cary and his chivalry. Fuck this whole fucking fucked-up situation.

  And most of all? Fuck the fact that Alexander wanted nothing more than to let himself sag against Cary’s comforting, solid mass. To let himself literally be carried. What the hell had happened to him?

  He struggled in Cary’s arms.

  “Just a bit longer, sweetie.”

  There was an edge in Cary’s sarcastic words. Good. Maybe if Cary the Standup Guy went away, it would be easier to get through the rest of this train wreck of a trip.

  He had to swallow a cry of pain when Cary set him down on the trail proper.

  “You’re going to have to lean on me, at least,” Cary said.

  “Like hell,” Alexander shot back.

  “Hey!” Cary got right in Alexander’s face. “I abandoned you once before, and I’m not doing it again. I realize you hate me, but you’re just going to have to suck it up and let me help you. And if you don’t, I’m going to break your other leg so I can leave you here and go get the cavalry.”

  Alexander blinked. He couldn’t have been more stunned if Cary had punched him. So he nodded and slung an arm around Cary’s shoulders, leaning heavily into his solid mass.

  They set off. It was slow going, but they got into a rhythm that didn’t cause him too much pain.

  They didn’t speak. Except for the brief phone call Cary made to the park service once they were in cell range, they spent the whole two hours it took them to return in silence. Until Alexander broke it—he had to—just as they approached the clearing that heralded the end of their journey.

  “I don’t hate you.” He whispered it, holding it back purposely for the last second before the Lius saw them, so Cary couldn’t respond. He didn’t want to get into it, but since this was good-bye, it needed to be said.

  “You’re back!” said Don, relief visible on his face as he looked up from where he was having breakfast with Linda and a man Alexander didn’t recognize.

  “Alexander!” said Linda. “Thank God!” Her expression dimmed when she moved her attention to Cary.

  Alexander could feel a chill coming from Linda. What had happene
d to her crush on him? Something was wrong.

  “What’s happened?” Cary said, voicing Alexander’s question.

  Linda frowned. “This is my brother Peter. He arrived first thing this morning.”

  Peter Liu rose from where he’d been sitting at the fire, his arm extended. “You must be Alexander Evangelista? So happy to meet you.” Then he looked at Cary and his face darkened. He didn’t offer his hand. “I rushed here this morning because I didn’t want my father to make any decisions without all the relevant information.”

  Linda said, “My brother brought some very interesting documents.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  No.

  Alexander’s stomach bottomed out as that word ripped through him over and over.

  No, no, no.

  Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, but at the same time, it was happening way too fast.

  “There’s been a mistake,” he tried to say, but his voice shriveled in his throat when he caught sight of Cary, who was the only one standing still, being silent, in the melee that had exploded around him as Peter waved the court documents around, Linda exclaimed about a certain standard of professionalism they expected from all their collaborators, and Don paced, shaking his head.

  Through it all, Cary just looked at him, his eyes devoid of their usual emotion. It was the same empty look he’d seen in them that night when Cary had first come to his place unexpectedly. Like then, Alexander had the sense that Cary was slipping away from him, that the real Cary was being subsumed behind a curated facade of indifference. Last time, he’d responded by kissing Cary, by devouring him in the hallway outside his condo. This time was worse, and not only because he couldn’t grab Cary and kiss the warmth back into his eyes. He didn’t have the right to touch Cary at all, much less kiss him. This was probably the last time they would ever speak. The thought nearly took his breath away.

  “You did this,” Cary said in a low voice.

  He wasn’t going to lie, so he nodded. “I did, but it was a mistake. I made a mistake.” He raised his voice as he spoke, hoping that he could somehow get the warmth back into Cary’s eyes by speaking the truth.