by J. K. Hogan
Shaking with rage, Justice briefly considered just throttling Rich right then and there. But that would involve a messy cleanup and possibly prison time. This man who didn’t even know him was trying to burn his life down around him. Justice was embarrassed to feel tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
“And just what am I supposed to say to Rory about why I can’t do it?”
“Not my problem.” Rich sneered at Justice, knowing he had him backed into a corner. “You’ll just have to get creative. Better make it convincing.”
Rich rose from the chair and straightened his lapels. “If you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do today than breathe the same air as the likes of you. Tell him by tonight or I’ll ruin you.”
He let himself out, leaving Justice alone in an empty room. Justice sank down onto the couch and put his head in his hands. He let the quiet envelop him as he shed the tears he’d been holding in. Rory and Lara were the only real friends he had left, and he would probably hurt both of them irrevocably by doing what he had to do to keep them in his life. As he lost it, curling up on the couch and sobbing, absurdly, the person at the forefront of his mind was Nic.
* * * *
Justice must have dozed off, because he was still on the couch when Lara burst through the front door. He jerked awake at the sound, and nearly fell on the floor. Lara was completely oblivious.
“Oh. Em. Gee. I just had lunch with Maia and she was telling me all about the theme of the wedding. Dude, get this…Steampunk Masquerade. I can’t even…”
Clutching his head in his hands, Justice tried to stave off the nausea and pounding headache while Lara steamrollered on.
“We totally have to start looking for our costumes. We can hit the Goodwill this afternoon for odds and ends, and then go to a costume store.” She squinted at him, finally actually paying attention. “Well you look like hell. Late night, huh? I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I didn’t,” he said, hesitating before flicking his gaze up to her face.
Her eyes widened briefly and her mouth formed a little ‘o.’ “Wow, hooked up, did ya? Care to tell me about the lucky lady?” she asked, plopping down beside him on the couch.
“No. Really…not.”
“Whatevs, keep her to yourself then. At least one of us got laid last night.”
When he didn’t respond, she finally really looked at him. Her face was an instant mask of concern. “Seriously, you okay?”
“Um, yeah,” he answered distractedly, replaying his conversation with Rich in his head. “Do you know if Rory’s at home. I really need to talk to him.”
“He should be. Maia said he was going home to take a shower. But why —”
“Thanks, bye!” he cut her off, bolting out the door. He had to get things square with Rory and the best man situation before Rich decided to show his hand.
* * * *
Justice found Rory at home, fresh from the shower, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He lounged stretched out on the couch, perfectly comfortable in his own skin, and secure in his identity. Justice allowed himself a moment of self-pity and wondered what that was like, before easing down on the couch beside Rory like a rheumy old man.
“What’s up, kid?” he asked with a smile.
He’d asked innocently enough, but Justice felt an intense wave of nausea as he thought of Nic calling him “kid”, which subsequently reminded him of why he’d come.
“Not much, man,” he said, and gave Rory a weak smile.
Rory had always been able to read him like a book —well, on most topics —so he sat forward abruptly, eyes full of concern. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
Justice took a brief moment to imagine just telling Rory the truth. Just rolling the dice and baring his soul, and hoping he still had a friend afterwards. But he couldn’t bring himself to believe that his peace of mind was worth the risk.
“Look, I don’t know how to say this…but, I can’t be your best man.”
Rory’s eyes widened, and his expression registered shock and more distress than Justice would have imagined.
“What? Why?”
Justice had gone over the conversation in his head a million times during the walk over there, and he still hadn’t figured out exactly what his cover story would be. He’d just have to improvise.
“You haven’t been around me for a long time…My anxiety issues have gotten so much worse. I just know I won’t make it through the wedding without freaking out. I’ll probably ruin the whole thing. I can’t risk doing that to Maia on her day. I’ll still be there cheering you on…I just can’t have an important role. It’s too much pressure.”
“Justice, dude, you don’t understand. I need you standing up for me. You’re my best friend.”
“But why, though? We live so far away and hardly see each other. I’ve not been a very good friend to you. I’m sure there are people here that you see all the time, ones that are better friends.”
Rory twisted his shoulders and hiked one knee up onto the cushion so that he was facing Justice. “See, being a friend is a verb. It’s something you work at. Being a best friend, though, that’s something you just are. It’s like family. And it’s not a title you shake off that easy.”
Justice was floored. He’d never heard it put quite that way, and it honestly choked him up a little. Unfortunately, it didn’t change Rich’s blackmail ploy.
“Thanks, that’s…wow. I wish it changed things, but I just can’t do it. I’m so sorry. Please say you don’t hate me.”
The hurt on Rory’s face all but broke his heart, but Justice could not imagine the expression he’d have if he knew the truth. He didn’t want to find out. Rory seemed to pull himself together, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath.
“Of course I don’t hate you. Like I said, it’s not an easy title to shake off. I’m not going to replace you, though. I’ll add another groomsman to cover your spot, but I’m not going to pick a new best man.”
“Oh Rory, don’t make any rash decisions. Sleep on it. Maybe talk to Maia about it. I’m sure you could get someone just as good to do it…like Rich.” It killed Justice to mention Rich as his replacement, but it was the best way to ensure the guy’s silence.
Rory sighed and ran an enormous hand through his black hair. “I guess I’ll think it over. You promise you’re going to be around for all of it still?”
Suddenly, he just looked like a big, scared kid. Justice put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Sure I will. Wouldn’t miss it.” He felt, rather than heard Rory’s sigh of relief. What was going on in the big guy’s head that he was so apprehensive?
“Anyway, I should probably go find Lara, as I’m told there will be costumes to buy,” Justice said, trying to lighten the mood.
Rory gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Maia’s really into the whole theme wedding idea. I’m just kind of letting her do her thing.”
“Isn’t that pretty much the way of weddings?”
“Pretty much.”
“All right, I’m going to head out. I’m sorry again about the whole best man thing. It’s still going to be the best day of your life.”
“I hope so.”
Chapter Thirteen
They had arranged to meet at Nic’s favorite lakeside park. He showed up early, so he was surprised to find Justice already there. With his back to Nic, Justice leaned on arms folded over the railing that blocked park visitors from the low bluffs and water below.
Nic stopped to watch him for a moment. He was hunched over, like one would hunker down in a storm, but the sky was clear. The wind rippled around him, whipping his unruly brown curls around his head, before he pulled the hood of his jacket on.
He had his hip cocked to the side as he leaned, and Nic tried not to dwell on the way worn denim stretched across his perfect ass because, even from a distance, Nic picked up on the aura of melancholy that surrounded him like a cloud. The guy seemed to gravitate to the water, especially wh
en he was feeling down.
He knew Justice had issues, and it sounded like sometimes it was hell to be in his head, but for the most part he seemed sort of wide-eyed and optimistic, cute and quirky. But not today. Nic immediately mourned the Justice from two days ago, before they’d even spoken.
Sidling up beside Justice, Nic bumped him with his shoulder. “Hey, there.”
“Hey,” Justice said, quietly. It wasn’t the quiet that bothered Nic. Justice was a quiet type of guy sometimes. It was the stillness. The complete and utter stillness on a man who was usually fidgety and restless, it just didn’t sit right with Nic.
“You okay?”
“You’ve had to ask me that a lot, haven’t you?” Justice’s non-answer was obviously self-deprecating. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
Nic nodded and squinted out at the water.
“Someone saw us. One of Rory’s friends knows we were together.”
“Which one?”
“Rich,” Justice said, waving his hand as if it didn’t matter.
“Douchey suit guy?”
“Yeah. Anyway, he said that he’d tell Rory and everyone if I didn’t step down as the best man.”
“I hope you told him to go fuck himself with a rusty nail,” Nic said vehemently.
Justice turned those huge green eyes on him then, and they were filled with anguish and more than a little disbelief.
“How can you say that?” he asked. “You know nobody knows about me. Rory is my best friend, and I won’t lose him just so I can be in some stupid wedding.”
“Okay,” Nic said, taking a step back. Yeah, he didn’t understand guys who stayed in the closet, but you never know what someone else is going through. “What did you do?”
“I did what he said. I told Rory I couldn’t be his best man.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Oh man, he was devastated. More so than I even thought he would be, but not for the reasons I thought. He wasn’t mad at me, not really. It was almost like he was…terrified. Like he couldn’t get through it without me supporting him. I don’t know. Maybe I’m projecting.”
“Or maybe he really is scared. Getting married is a big deal.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
An idea suddenly came to Nic, and he grabbed Justice’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere.”
“What? Where?”
“Somewhere that you’ll feel better. Don’t worry. Just trust me.”
“Okay.”
It was all he said before allowing Nic to pull him through the park. That implicit trust was enough to send Nic’s heart pounding.
* * * *
There was a pervasive silence in the car as Nic drove them out to the marina in Bellevue where his other boat was housed. It was about a half hour drive, so there was a lot of time to kill. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Justice’s nervous hands fiddled with what looked like a beaded necklace. A rosary, maybe? Justice didn’t strike him as the religious type.
“What’s that?” Nic asked with a jerk of his chin towards Justice’s hands.
Justice jumped, startled, as if he’d been caught doing something bad. He looked down at his hands and Nic thought maybe he’d been playing with the beads unconsciously.
“Oh. Um, these are kombolói —Cypriot worry beads. They’re traditionally used for relaxation, but I use them to help control my anxiety. Sometimes I have to do counting exercises, and the beads help with that too. My mom got these for me when she went to Turkey.”
Nic was taken aback. It was the first willing mention of his family that Justice had made around him. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to it and make Justice shut it down.
“Cool. What’s it made of?”
“These are made out of amber, which is cool because it’s organic and has natural pain-relieving properties. I have another set that’s metal, that I made myself.”
Nic only nodded and the conversation dropped off. He couldn’t stop thinking about it though. He wanted to know more about Justice, but there were parts of his life that he seemed to compartmentalize, to keep hidden. While discretion was the better part of valor, Nic had never been particularly valiant, but was terminally nosy.
“Justice, can I ask you something at the risk of making you uncomfortable?”
Justice shot him a wary look but he still nodded, visibly steeling himself. “Shoot.”
Nic swallowed. He had to figure out the best way to ask without hurting Justice’s feelings. “I’ve been in relationships with closeted men before, and it always ends badly. I swore I’d never mess around with that again, but I can’t seem to stay away from you.” Out of the corner of his eye, Nic saw Justice’s eyes widen, so he hurried to get to his point. “I just want to understand, you know? How could you…why are you… Why have you gone this long without coming out?”
Justice’s brows raised and his mouth opened but nothing came out.
Damn, damn. Nic kept talking to fill the silence. “I mean, I’m not judging you, you know. I just…it seems so hard to hide who you really are. And with this Rich guy… Couldn’t you just be honest, so no one could have that kind of power over you?” Nic wasn’t trying to be mean or judgmental. He sincerely wanted to understand, because he couldn’t imagine not just being himself to the world. He guessed he was lucky that his parents just got him. They had just known, pretty much all along.
Justice’s eyes flashed, and for a moment Nic thought he’d lost him. But then he sighed and turned to look out the passenger window.
“I came out once,” he whispered.
Nic’s head whipped around, momentarily, because he had to watch the road. This was news. “You did? When?”
“Senior year of high school. It was getting to the point where I was starting to understand that it wasn’t a phase, that I wasn’t going to find the ‘right girl,’ and I accepted it for the truth. So the natural next step in the process was telling my parents.
“I honestly wasn’t even worried. We’d always gotten along so well, and I pretty much told them everything. Despite all the ‘coming out gone wrong’ stories I’d heard, it never even occurred to me that they wouldn’t accept me unconditionally.” He turned to Nic with giant, liquid green eyes. “I was wrong.”
Nic sucked in a sharp breath. “What happened?”
“It was really all very maudlin and unimaginative. Dad was all ‘no son of mine…’ and Mom was all ‘why would you choose to be like that, we go to church…’ blah, blah, blah. They didn’t throw me out, but they did the next worse thing. They just shut down. Stopped hugging me, stopped talking to me, stopped caring. They just looked at me with hellfire and recrimination in their eyes until I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran away.”
“Jesus, Justice!”
“I know, but you don’t know what it was like,” he said, a bit defensively. “At that point, it was either that or swallow my mom’s bottle of Percocet with a vodka chaser, so I, for one, am glad I chose the other way.”
“God, me too,” Nic croaked around the lump in his throat. Jesus, fuck.
“The rest was pretty uneventful. I was lucky enough to find a shelter for gay teens so I was able to finish up and graduate. My grandpa, the only family member who didn’t give a fuck who I wanted to, well, fuck, helped me pay for college. I went to school as far away from South Carolina as I could get, and the rest is history.”
“But didn’t you move back?”
Justice sighed, looking tired and miserable. “Yeah, look, I’ll tell ya more later. Can we just…can we not talk about this anymore?”
He was shivering, and they were close to the marina, so Nic cut the kid a break. He reached out and closed his hand around Justice’s, stilling the twitchy movement on the worry beads.
“Sure kid, no problem. We’re almost to your surprise anyway,” he said with a grin, while his heart was still aching for a young Justice.
After they arrived,
Justice stepped out of the car and stretched his lithe body, and Nic couldn’t help appreciating the view. Justice cocked his head and stared out at the marina, before giving Nic a dubious glance.
“Dude…why did we just drive twenty miles to go to a marina when you live at a marina?”
Nic chuckled and started walking, leaving Justice to jog to catch up. “You’ll see.”
They walked together down the marina’s main pier, shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing. Because it felt like the right moment, Nic reached out and laced his fingers through Justice’s.
Justice froze, just stopped walking, and looked down at their hands. Nic raised his brows and waited him out. Eventually Justice started moving again, and if his gait was a bit jerky, Nic didn’t say anything. He was just happy their hands were still linked.
“So, South Carolina,” Justice started.
“Yeah?” Nic prompted, glancing his way.
“The South has some pretty progressive towns nowadays, mine included. But it’s still…you know, the South. So two guys walking around holding hands, you’re just as likely to get smacked upside the head with a Bible as you are to get a smile and a wave. I’ve never done this,” he said, raising their linked hands. “Even if I was out, I’m not sure I would have done this.”
Nic just grinned and winked at him because, despite his words, Justice didn’t let go. Instead, he gave Nic the most beatific smile —one that made Nic willing to crawl through broken glass to keep it on his face.
He led them around the corner, heading down the private pier where his ketch was berthed. He loved that boat. She’d been in dry-dock while he was away, and this is the first time he’d been back out to the marina. At 40 years old and mostly wood, she was a restoration, a fixer-upper, but she was gorgeous. The little gasp Justice let out when they stopped in front of her told Nic that he thought so too.
