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  Then he broke down, sobbing and heaving as big fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Apparently, there was a time limit on his teenage bravado. Stripping away some of that hardened exterior, his tears made him younger, more vulnerable, more innocent. Rather than a teen trying to act as if he was a grown man, he became a little boy, scared and alone, looking for someone to protect him. “I only ran because . . .” His explanation was consumed by his sobs.

  Finishing his sentence for him, I drew upon my own experience. “You ran because staying was scarier somehow. Leaving everything you’ve ever known, all the people you’ve ever loved, was somehow less frightening than staying there and waiting for him to do whatever he wanted with you.”

  He nodded then swiped at the streaks of tears running down his face. “Yeah, and then I saw him on the news.” Tipping his head to the car, he indicated Parker, recalling his very public case with the Maxwells. “If I would have known . . .” Whatever he was going to say, trailed off like vapor in the air.

  “What?” I asked, a touch of defense in my tone. “That I was here? That the same things happened to me? That me and Parker are–” I let that idea fall dead on my lips, not wanting to push him over the invisible ledge on which he seemed to be hovering. “Stop it. You couldn’t have known any of that. Hell, no one knew I was here or what happened to me.” Angling my head back to Parker, I said, “Even he didn’t know, not until you showed up.”

  His face twisted in confusion and shock. “But you’re together. How could he not know?”

  “Just because you’re with someone,” I explained, “it doesn’t mean they know everything about you. They’ll only ever know the things you choose to tell them. Only ever know the parts you choose to share with them. And it’s not easy. You have to trust them enough, even when you’re not so sure you trust yourself.” Taking a deep breath, I looked up to the night sky, speckled with a thousand dots of light. Thankful for Parker’s place in my life, I looked back at him once more. “You were lucky to find him,” I said to Brendan while keeping my eyes on Parker who sat, waiting expectantly in the car. “He’s a good guy.”

  Lost to the soft appraisal in my voice as I spoke of Parker, Brendan chimed in. “I’m not gay you know.” Crossing his arms over his chest once again, he made it clear he was trying to protect himself.

  “And I am.” It was a simple statement, one from which I’d never hidden or run. “Don’t you understand? That’s just another piece of the puzzle proving that nothing we did had anything to do with what was done to us.” A cynical chuckle passed my lips, and it was precisely what Brendan needed to hear to focus his attention back on me. “I used to think he raped me because I’d told him I was gay. I didn’t know how to blame anyone but myself. But just because the same thing happened to you, that doesn’t mean you are. All it proves is that he’s a monster who can’t be allowed to get away with this.”

  “How do you know that’s how I feel?” He shrugged, adding, “Confused about that?”

  In my head, the explanation he needed to hear was clear as day, and I only hoped I wouldn’t fuck it up too badly. “Because I remember being just as confused about who I was,” I said. “Confusion isn’t a gay thing. It isn’t a straight thing, either. It’s a human thing. Everyone needs to learn about who they are, why they’re wired the way they are.” Cautiously, I dropped a hand to his shoulder, saying, “Just as my experience didn’t happen because I’m gay, yours doesn’t make you gay.”

  It was a simple idea, one I’d had in my head for some time now. Yet, it was an idea to which I couldn’t fully subscribe. For whatever reason, I’d still blamed my abuse on my sexuality.

  Until now.

  Until my younger brother needed my guidance and everything about my past came into sharp focus.

  As I sat there watching Liam and Brendan talk, I ran through a hundred different scenarios of what they were saying to each other. While I may never know those things, and I didn’t need to, I did know one thing. We had to call the police. By this point, there had to be a missing person’s report filed. And I certainly didn’t want to be taken in for child abduction, even though the truth of the situation was so far from that. By my quick calculations, we’d only known about Brendan’s whereabouts for less than an hour. If we called and brought him in now, it should go smoothly.

  But to help make sure that smooth was exactly what we got, I needed to make one call. He picked up on the first ring. “Detective Smith.”

  “Hey, it’s Parker Ryan, from the Maxwell case.” Detective Smith had been assigned the case and he’d been easy to work with, but tough on the case, going through every detail with precise scrutiny.

  “What’s going on? Did something new happen? I heard you left your firm.” Behind his voice, I heard a flurry of activity, phones ringing, papers shuffling, people talking.

  “That’s not why I’m calling. All is fine with Maxwell and you’re right, I’m no longer with my father’s firm.” Pausing, I cleared my throat. “I’m actually calling about the Davidson boy.”

  “How did you–”

  “I know about him because he came to me.” Smith listened on, jotting down notes, as I explained the course of events leading Brendan to my door. Despite how unrealistic the entire situation seemed, I told him of Liam and how he was really William Davidson. “So, we’re at the McDonald’s on Main Street, now. The kid was starving and confused that Liam was his brother. That’s why we didn’t bring him straight to you.”

  Though his words weren’t directed at me, I heard Smith call out to the rest of the department, “We’ve got him. He’s okay.” I wasn’t there to see the relief on their faces, but I imagine it preceded the round of applause that rang through the phone. “You need to come down now. We’ll contact the parents so they know he’s okay. They’re already on their way. Should be here within the hour. Once the report came through, we called their local department to tell them we had some information. It’s a good thing you called when he came to your office. We wouldn’t have even known where to begin.”

  “Sure, we’re on our way now. All three of us.”

  “Right. William.” I could tell he was still trying to process that part of the puzzle. “I’ll let them know.”

  Something didn’t feel right about that. Knowing Liam the way I did, I was sure he’d want to do it his way. Whatever way that was. “No don’t. Just let them know Brendan is okay. That’s enough to process for the last of the drive.”

  Smith agreed and ended the call. Within seconds of sliding my phone back into my pocket, Liam and Brendan turned back toward the car. When they were both situated in their seats, I figured now was as good a time as any to let them know about the police. “I called a detective from one of my cases to let him know you were with us, Brendan.” His face paled slightly, but he nodded his agreement. “Your parents are already on their way,” I added, squeezing Liam’s hand as I said the words.

  “I screwed up so bad, didn’t I?” There was so much regret in Brendan’s voice.

  Liam spoke before I could say anything. “It might not be easy to go down there and tell them everything that happened. To face . . . everyone.” Stammering, I had a feeling he was having a difficult time using the words mom and dad. “But you didn’t do anything wrong. Remember that, please. Remember everything we just talked about,” he begged. Relief washed over his face when Brendan nodded.

  Without saying another word, we pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the Southampton Police Department. Liam’s leg bounced with that same nervous energy he’d been feeling all night and I wanted to do something, say something to make him feel like everything was going to be all right. But even I knew that couldn’t happen.

  There was no way to calm the nerves of someone about to be reunited with the parents he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

  When we walked through the doors, all the officers tried to keep their calm, hoping to make Brendan feel as at ease as possible. It wasn’t lost on me that he stuck firmly to
Liam’s side the entire time. We were escorted into Smith’s office where we could hide from the flurry of activity in the main room. Liam and Brendan sat on a small leather sofa while I stood by the door, acting as a sort of gatekeeper for them. No one said anything because it seemed as if there were no words to be said. There was no way to make any of what was going on easier on anyone involved, so we just sat there and waited for something to happen.

  Smith cracked the door open, asking if he could come in. “Here you go, Brendan.” He handed him a bottle of water. “Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”

  Brendan nodded, cracking open his water. “Can they stay?” he asked nervously.

  “Of course,” Smith responded, opening up a notepad. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Sitting there, listening to Brendan recall the horrid details of what his uncle did to him, how he’d suffered so much he decided to run, wasn’t easy for me.

  It must have been pure torture for Liam, the anguish clearly written across his face.

  Thankfully, Detective Smith kept it short; not pressing for too much more information than what Brendan chose to offer. “Thank you, Brendan.” Closing his notepad, he slid the pen through the spiral ring on the side. “I thought you should all know the Rye Police Department has your uncle in custody.”

  Liam sat up, straightening his back. “They do?” he asked, relieved. “How did they know? What happened?”

  “Before we were even able to tell your parents about the note you’d given Mr. Ryan, your father found something on your computer that gave him some clues as to what happened.”

  “My journal,” Brendan explained to us. “I thought I had it protected. It was security coded and everything.”

  “I’m not exactly sure how he found it, but when he did your uncle’s apartment was his first stop.” Smith stood from his seat and walked back to the door. “With what they found on your computer, and with what you told me, let’s just say your uncle won’t see the light of day for a very long time.”

  Almost as quickly as the door had closed behind Detective Smith’s retreating back, it was opened again. He stepped inside, opening the door only as much as he needed to squeeze in. When he said, “Your parents are here,” I understood exactly why he’d been so discreet in opening the door.

  Liam.

  Smith explained, “I didn’t know how you wanted to–”

  “It’s okay. I understand,” Liam responded, the statement obviously directed at him. Speaking to Brendan, Liam said, “You should go with Detective Smith. Go see them and let them process it.” Brendan looked worried and maybe even a little scared. As angry as he may have been at Liam earlier in the evening, whatever they’d said to each other had obviously eased some of the strain. It was still there, but lessened enough to give them a common bond on which Brendan was now relying as a source of strength.

  “Okay,” Brendan agreed, sounding somewhat reluctant.

  When Detective Smith walked him out of the office, leaving Liam and me alone in the small room, Liam crashed down onto the sofa, cradling his head in his hands. Sitting next to him, his nervous energy vibrated at my side. “You doing okay?” Draping an arm over his shoulder, I was more than surprised when he turned to me, wrapping his arms around me.

  “I don’t know what to say.” He mumbled his emotional words into the crook of my neck, holding onto me for dear life.

  “I don’t know either.” Running a hand up and down his back, I tried my best to soothe him, to let him know I was there for him however he needed me.

  Pulling away from me to look me in the face, he asked, “What if I can’t?” His voice cracked, thick with emotion.

  “You can,” I assured him. “And you will, because you know Brendan needs you. He needs you in his life, and there’s a part of you, I think anyway, that needs him in yours.”

  He inhaled a deep breath, garnering some resolve from it. “I know you’re right. But it’s not Brendan who scares me. It’s them.” Wrapping his fingers around mine, he steadied his shaking hand. “What if they hate me? What if they can’t get over what I did to them?”

  “They’re your parents. They won’t hate you.” It wasn’t a fact of which I could be certain because my own parents made me feel it, but it was a should-be universal truth in which I had faith. “I’ll be right by your side.” Pausing, uncertainty twisted in my chest. “If you want, I mean.”

  “Yes,” he answered immediately. “I need you there with me.”

  His lips pressing against mine was the only confirmation I needed. He gave me everything in that kiss. His love, passion, life. They were mine.

  They were ours.

  Not wanting to push him, we sat there, holding each other, letting the minutes tick away. Then, as if out of nowhere, Liam stood, pulling me up by our still-joined hands. “I’m ready now,” he announced, his voice still trembling with suppressed emotions.

  Without letting go of my hand, he walked us through the main room of the precinct, not caring one bit about what anyone thought. Detective Smith saw us and led us to the room where Brendan and his parents were.

  “I wanted to let you know,” Smith explained with his hand hovering above the door knob. “Brendan told me he wasn’t going to say anything until you came in. They still don’t know you’re here.”

  Liam nodded solemnly, swallowing hard as Smith opened the door.

  When the door clicked behind us, it was as if all the air had been sucked out as well, the collective gasp of his parents depleting the room of all its oxygen. No one said anything right away. Liam squeezed my hand so tightly our knuckles turned white. His mother stared at him, then back at Brendan and then to her husband. It was clearly too much for her to take in and she was looking for someone to say something to make it all real. She looked as if she needed someone to take the first step.

  Liam did just that as he walked further into the room and dropped a hand on Brendan’s shoulder. “Mom. Dad.” Liam spoke softly, looking them both in the eyes.

  “William?” His mom covered her mouth with her hand, tears rolling over. “Is it really . . . but how . . .” Her words gave way to her sobs as she stood from her seat, her husband at her side.

  “It is.” Liam’s words carried so much emotion, I could tell he was only capable of simple responses. “It’s me.”

  Slowly, she walked over to us, her eyes falling to our joined hands before she looked back into her oldest son’s eyes. She reached for his face, needing some kind of physical evidence he was truly there. That he wasn’t some figment of her imagination. But like a child who pulls their hand away from a hot flame, she recoiled, almost afraid to find out he was in fact real. “It can’t be. All these years . . . we thought you were . . . oh, God . . .”

  She gave in to her tears, burying her face into her husband’s shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay. He’s here. It’s him.” His father’s voice wavered as he extended an arm to Liam.

  He squeezed my hand once more before letting it go. When he was within an inch reach of his crying parents, Liam’s father pulled him into the circle of their embrace. Overcome with his own emotion, Brendan joined his family.

  Wanting to give them their own time, I quietly stepped out of the room.

  But when I sat on a chair in the main room of the precinct, everything hit me all at once. A wave of emotion I hadn’t seen coming barreled over me. My chest tightened as the day played through my head. I’d been able to keep a level head through most of it, but now, sitting here in my own bubble of quiet chaos, I didn’t know how to digest what it all meant.

  The only thing I could do was hold strong to the idea that when Liam walked out of that room, he’d walk straight into my arms.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry for putting you through everything.” I’d already apologized countless times, but I felt like I’d never be able to say it enough.

  Sitting at my side, Mom held my hand. “Please stop apologizing. We’re just so happy you’re okay.” She looked up at my father,
a half-smile pulling at her lips, tears staining her cheeks.

  My father, the perfect image of quiet stoicism was actually wiping away tears as well. My world was falling off its axis and I needed Parker here to help me make sense of it all. I needed his strength at my side to make it through this, but then part of me knew I had to explain some of my story to them without him here.

  Brendan sat next to me, exhaustion weighing heavily on his young face. And despite his own horrors, he offered me the support I needed to tell them what had happened.

  “I never meant to hurt you when I left,” I said lamely. Because even though I hadn’t wanted to hurt them, I knew I would do just that.

  “Why did you leave?” my father asked, holding fast to my mom’s shoulder.

  “For the same reasons Brendan ran.” My admission made them both flinch.

  “That fucking bastard,” my father cursed, slamming his hand on the metal table. That was when I saw his bloodied and bruised knuckles. Knowing he’d gotten to my uncle before the cops had made a small part inside of me smile in victory. “I knew I should’ve killed him. The fucking monster . . .” His words trailed off in a muttering of curses even I couldn’t make out.

  “Don’t blame yourself.” The word Dad froze on my lips. He nodded at me, understanding he wasn’t guilty for anything. Silently nodding, I didn’t have the courage to agree with him. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted my uncle dead. If he were, he wouldn’t be able to pay for what he’d done to Brendan. The time to pay for my abuse had long passed, but knowing he would hopefully rot in jail for the rest of his life was at least a small consolation.

  But, as I looked over at my mom, I could see she’d be a much tougher sell on not holding herself accountable for what had happened.

  When her eyes locked with mine, a wretched sob tore from her throat. “I’m so sorry, William. It’s my fault. He’s my brother. I did this to my own family.”

  As for what my mom said, well, that was partly true, too. And even though I didn’t necessarily see it that way any longer, I once had. Which meant it was a real possibility Brendan saw it the same way, too.