by E M Lindsey
Niko increased his incline and let himself feel the slight burn in his calves. “I think you should do what feels right for you. Maybe try not to panic.”
“Easy for you to say,” she told him, and though the words were a little harsh, her tone was soft. “I mean, you had a career change, right? But you bounced right the hell back.”
Niko felt his stomach twist, because in the most basic terms, sure. He did have a career change and he did bounce back. But in reality, he had a life-changing injury that removed his ability to choose whether or not he wanted to stay on his path. And it was the simple fact that he won a lawsuit against a major corporation which allowed him to have the financial freedom to take his time in figuring out what the hell he wanted to do with his life when the first part of it was over.
And even now, he wasn’t entirely sure this was it. Cooking was an escape for him, but owning a restaurant wouldn’t be that. It would be rewarding, in a way, to share the food he grew up on with the people in the town he’d come to love, but he’d never considered something like that for his future. And in truth—a truth he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself—he was afraid the stress of turning something he loved into his job would ruin it for him.
Fear like that was what kept him from ever taking the ice again, in spite of his rehab therapists telling him that no, he wouldn’t skate professionally again, but there was no reason he couldn’t make it a hobby. But what if he fell? What if his blades touched the ice and he couldn’t remember how it all worked? The accident hadn’t just robbed him of his career, it had robbed him of a bravery that had once been second nature.
Sam though, Sam had made him want to try. Sam had been motivation enough for him to book time at the rink. And even though they hadn’t gone through with it, that meant something. He hadn’t been brave enough to go on his own yet, but maybe he would be.
He realized his mind had gone back to Sam again, and he shook himself out of it. When he dared a glance over, he saw Lucy watching him with a curious expression. His cheeks heated a bit and he increased his speed again. “Sorry,” he muttered.
She quirked a smile at him. “It’s fine. You were just a million miles away.”
He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “It’s been a week.”
“Yeah. I feel that. It’s been kind of weird at the shop since Sage and Derek got back,” she told him. Niko slowed his pace to a cool-down, and she did the same. “Or well, I guess since Derek came back. Sage showed up the day after they got in, then he just ghosted. Tony told everyone not to stress, but apparently no one’s heard from him since.”
Niko felt his gut clench with sympathy. He knew enough of the twins’ life growing up with their father to know the old man’s death probably fucked them up more than it did any good.
“When you see Derek, tell him to call me if he needs anything,” Niko said.
“I will,” she said with a grin. “But he’s doing surprisingly well, especially now that he has Basil.”
Niko couldn’t help his smile. Maybe under different circumstances, he’d be jealous that Derek found true love with the very next guy he dated, but he couldn’t bring himself to be anything other than happy. Derek was a good guy, and he deserved it more than anyone else Niko knew. Well, almost anyone. Sam did too, but Niko was trying his best not to go there.
“I should take off,” he told her. “I have so much crap to finish today.”
Lucy gave him a mock-salute and reached for her earbud. “Stop by soon, okay. We all miss you at the shop.”
He doubted that was true—he wasn’t a fixture in their lives—but he appreciated the sentiment. “Have a good rest of your run.” Hopping off the machine, he gave it a quick spray down as Lucy went back to her run, then hurried off to change back into his work clothes.
He had more nervous energy to work off, but right now, the idea of Sage suffering was under his skin. Making his way to the locker room, he dug out his phone and pulled up Sage’s number. He wasn’t sure a text from him would be welcome. They weren’t close friends by any means, and if Sage had ghosted on the people he loved most, there was no reason to think he’d reply to Niko. But all the same, he couldn’t ignore the compulsion to at least try.
Niko: Ran into Lucy at the gym, said you were having a rough go since you got back. You need to talk? Need a beer?
He slipped his phone back onto the bench, then grabbed his stuff to change. He didn’t really have time for a shower—his boss had scheduled a meeting with his department, and he had to prepare his notice before he committed to any projects. He swiped a clean cloth down the back of his neck and over his arms, then slapped on another layer of deodorant before slipping back into his polo and trousers.
Reaching for his phone, he was surprised to see the alert blinking, and he swiped it open to see Sage’s name waiting for him.
Sage: I need to drink an entire bar, but that probably won’t help. Any chance you want to get out of town this evening?
* * *
Niko: What are you thinking?
* * *
Sage: Anywhere. Not Denver, somewhere else. Need to get away for a few days. I wouldn’t really be opposed to you just dropping me off at like the hot springs and hitching my way back.
* * *
Niko: Which would leave you basically road kill for some mass murderer, and I’m not interested in having every person at your shop out for my blood. Let me come up with something, okay? You trust me?
* * *
Sage: I shouldn’t, but I do. Go for it, but seriously, get me the hell out of here.
* * *
Niko: On it. Meet me at my office at quarter to five.
Niko sent the address right after, then found his mind entirely preoccupied with his current idea as he got back to his desk. He typed up his letter of resignation and saved it for the meeting, then put in a vacation request for the next four days. He had a lot of accounts to sort and prepare for whoever was going to take them over, yet he couldn’t help but put Sage first. The guy had been to hell and back, and Niko liked him. Niko felt a kinship with him—almost like family—and it wasn’t something he was entirely used to.
He knew some part of him should feel guilty for using up vacation just days before he said goodbye to the firm, but knowing someone he cared about needed him and was actually allowing him to help, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than relief. He pulled up the page for resort rentals, perused, then made a series of phone calls. By the time Sage pulled up, Niko had a reservation number in his inbox, instructions on how to key into the property, and weekend passes to the hot springs.
Chapter Fourteen
The drive to the Forest Lake springs was just over an hour, and Sage didn’t argue when Niko insisted
they take his car and that he drive. The very fact that he did little more than let out a sigh and drop his head back against the headrest told Niko it wasn’t going to be an easy couple of days. He packed enough supplies to get them there, and since the little town was barely more than a large, pretentious resort for the too-wealthy, he didn’t think they’d have trouble getting whatever else they needed when they arrived.
Niko hated spending his money on indulgences, but this didn’t feel like it. This felt like something a lot deeper. He reached over just as the freeway cleared, and squeezed Sage’s shoulder. “So, I quit my job today.”
That got Sage out of his head, and his gaze snapped over, his eyebrows shooting up. “You serious?”
Niko laughed as he put his hand back on the wheel. “Yeah. I’m opening a restaurant—I need to have all my focus on that pretty soon, and I don’t know when the hell I’m going to find time to breathe again. I know you feel like shit, but this little trip couldn’t have come at a better time.”
Sage let out a bone-deep sigh and dragged both hands down his face. “I just wish I was better company.”
Niko quickly shook his head. “Nah, man. Believe me, any company is good company.” Which was a part
ial truth. If it had been Sam with him in the car, Niko would be feeling something very different, but he couldn’t resent the trip was with Sage instead. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sage worked his jaw, like he was trying to make the words come out, and his breath was a little ragged. “It was a tough trip.”
“I can only imagine,” Niko murmured.
Sage’s lip quirked up, a sardonic smirk holding steady for a moment. “Yeah. Derek took it worse than I did. I mean, that’s to be expected, but he had Basil with him which made a difference.” He paused for a long moment before speaking again. “We found out my old man had millions. In cash and assets. And he left everything to me.”
Niko opened his mouth to say something, then really processed what Sage was telling him and he glanced over. “To you. Just you.”
“Mostly,” Sage said flatly. “He left Derek this old cabin in Missouri, but I think it was more of a fuck you than anything else. He bought the place as a comfort gift to my mom after being a piece of shit when her sister died, and we used to go there as kids when things got bad at home. Then uh…then after she died, my dad would go there to kind of…be angry, I guess? The only good thing about it was there were tons of places for Derek to hide, so my dad could only beat on him when he could catch him.”
“Jesus,” Niko breathed out. His gut twisted and he didn’t know what to say, but he was hit with a fresh wave of guilt over how shitty he’d been with Derek in the beginning.
Sage shrugged. “Derek’s not pissed or anything. Hell, he didn’t want any of it. I convinced him to keep the cabin—to reclaim it or whatever. He and Basil can head up there when they have free time, make it their own, erase all the ghosts that haunt the place.”
“Makes sense,” Niko said quietly. “And you?”
Sage laughed again, a still-bitter sound, and he shrugged. “Well, I got Sam the priciest, most ruthless lawyer I could find, and then using the rest to uh…well. I guess to open a shelter for abused teens. Like a halfway house. They can live there, work there, get therapy services. All of it.”
Niko swallowed thickly, then dared ask, “Is that what happened for you and Derek? When you two left home?”
Sage blinked at him, then snorted an angry laugh, shaking his head. “Uh no. No, after we ran, we squatted in this abandoned building with stolen electricity and hot plates a couple guys jacked from the dorms during Thanksgiving break. Derek and I worked as day laborers for a while for food and shit, and we got to shower at the Y once a week for fifty cents. When we turned eighteen, I took some of my cash, got my ID, then bailed. I had my sights set on college. I was really fucking done with being homeless.”
“Derek followed?” Niko asked softly. He felt a little like a voyeur, peering into Sage and Derek’s past where he didn’t entirely belong, but he wasn’t just curious. He cared, and he wanted to understand.
Sage’s sigh was a little rougher, and he glanced out the window instead of looking at Niko. “Not right away. He uh… he had it a lot harder than me. He ended up in a state facility after totally losing it one day on a job. It took them a while to find me—they called my dad, but that old fuck just said Derek could rot—and when I heard, I rushed down. He’d been there almost two months, and he was doing better by the time I was able to see him. Meds, therapy, all of it. They told him if he agreed to stay for six months, they’d help him get his GED, help him start something he could use for his future. Then he found art, and somehow, he found Tony. I followed a while after.”
Niko licked his lips and fought back the hundred more invasive questions he wanted to ask. “I guess the center makes a lot of sense.”
Sage chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I know we don’t exactly have a high population of abused teens in this hipster bubble we live in, but I figured I could advertise, maybe contract with agencies in other states to bring kids here. I’m not even sure I have enough capital to start, but if I can get the ball rolling, I can probably get grants.” He rubbed his face again and leaned back. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, I just know it’s the only thing I can spend this money on and not feel like a festering piece of shit.”
“I get that,” Niko said, and he felt like a dam was cracking behind his ribs. “After I got injured and had to retire, my lawyer told me I had a suit against the company that made the shin guards. I mean, no hockey gear is blade-proof, but there was way too big a gap at the knee, and too much give when the skate hit me. He did all the work, and all I did was show up in mediation on the dates he sent me. The company settled, and eventually they paid out three years of a rookie contract, and it made me a millionaire.”
Sage choked a little and he turned to face him. “You’re a millionaire?”
Niko flushed uncomfortably and shrugged. “It always felt like a mockery of my worth. I could have made more, I could have done more, been better, but I wasn’t given the chance and the company’s product decided that number for me. It just never felt right, and it wasn’t until I decided to open the restaurant that I felt like I was doing something good with it.”
“So you do get it,” Sage said, and there was a touch of wonder in his voice.
Niko gave him a steady look, then nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He turned his attention back to the road, and though the rest of the drive was mostly in silence, it no longer seemed so awkward.
Sam: Hey Niko, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate your offer to help with the lawyer, but I got that sorted out. Sorry I haven’t been in touch, it’s just, things got a little nuts and I have to figure this out. But I wanted to say something, because that night wasn’t…I didn’t mean to just disappear. I’ll be in touch soon. I have court on Thursday, and then I have to deal with May’s grandparents. But I will call. Okay? I will.
Sam wasn’t really expecting a response, and he didn’t get one, which was just par for the shit course he was on at the moment. His entire body felt hot—he swore he could feel phantom heat in his legs and feet—but he knew it was just nerves.
Alice, his current home-care nurse, dropped her gloves in the bin and smiled at him. “Okay, you’re good to go.”
“No sore?” Sam asked. He couldn’t feel pain, but there was a sort of familiar sensation somewhere below his waist that usually signaled a pressure sore—something he really didn’t need right then.
“Not that I can see. The skin on your left thigh looks a little irritated, so you might want to put something under it, and maybe spend more time standing with your walker. If you’re hanging out in bed, do more on your stomach than your back. But I wouldn’t worry about it too much right now.”
Sam sagged back in his chair, and though he normally wouldn’t have, he let Alice quickly maneuver him into his trousers and button-up. He had court in an hour and a half, which meant they’d have to leave soon. Beth had done exactly what he predicted—slapped him with a hearing to determine whether or not the grandparents could have unsupervised visits. The only two good things he was taking from the situation was the fact that he had a cold-blooded lawyer now to handle his side of it, and that the judge had asked for a hearing rather than just awarding the agency with the rights to take Maisy for forty-eight hours.
He wasn’t sure he was going to win. His lawyer, a man named Rowan Balk, had assured him they had enough to make a case, but that he couldn’t guarantee he could put a stop to the visitation. “I don’t doubt I can win this in the end,” Rowan told him during their first meeting. “There’s no evidence whatsoever that proves your daughter would benefit from being removed from your care. In fact, we can try to make a case against DCS for the stipulations they’ve given in order to consider the adoption and demand a new caseworker.”
Sam had frowned at him. “Is all the shit they made me do illegal?”
“Grey area,” Rowan said. He used his pen to scratch at his temple, dislodging a couple of his tight curls from the thick gel he wore. “Right now, there’s a bill being considered which would make it illegal to take a p
erson’s disability into account when it comes to fostering, guardianship, and adoption. It would also prevent agencies like DCS from getting involved with biological parents on the basis of their disability. But, it’s not coming up to a vote until November.”
His gut twisted. “And until then?”
“If it looks like the judge assigned to our case is biased, then we delay. Trust me, I can delay for years if need be. Luckily, in this case, we only need months.”
Sam looked at him carefully. “Unless the bill doesn’t pass.”
“It has bipartisan support,” Rowan said easily. He waved his long-fingered hand dismissively. “It’s going to pass. And when the bill passes, we withdraw the adoption petition, then we re-file and present all new evidence.” When Sam started to panic about having to take those classes again, about attending more conferences and more questioning, Rowan reached across the desk and touched his hand. “Relax. If we re-file, they can’t ask you to do any of that shit again.”
Of course, they could still lose. Rowan could delay until pigs flew, and he could still lose. Though for the first time, he actually felt like someone with authority was in his corner. Rowan was expensive, and ruthless because of it, but there was something about him that told Sam he actually cared too.
Sam looked up when there was a soft knock on his doorframe, and he saw Derek walk in with Maisy’s hand tucked in his huge fist. He offered Sam a tight smile, then looked over at Alice who was just packing up.
“We’re done here,” Alice said cheerfully. She reached down to ruffle Maisy’s hair, making her giggle and squirm. “Can I give her a treat?”
“I think she’s been good enough,” Sam said, looking at Derek. “You think?”
“I don’t know,” Derek drawled. “She did laugh at me when I stubbed my toe.”
