Actually (6 page)

The questions seemed to go on forever. Ian tamped down his impatience all over again. He had no right to want to steal Aaron for himself again. Mike was more important that what had gone on between Ian and Aaron before the officer arrived. He helped by flipping through the phonebook, locating the parents of the students Mike associated with based on Aaron’s list.

Aaron’s pen paused mid-address. He glanced at Ian. He shouldn’t have felt embarrassed, but he was. Because like it or not the cop would have an opinion about the kiss on the cheek he’d been given by Aaron moments before Mikey took off. Aaron might be out to people, but Ian wasn’t.

“There’s a lot,” Aaron said.
“Start at the beginning,” the officer said, flipping a page in his notebook. “My parents died in a car accident a few months ago,” Aaron began. “He was asked to

identify their bodies. He’s been through a lot.”
“And now? What happened last night that made him leave?” the officer pressed. “Mr. Mitchell, Mike’s history teacher at Westwood High, used to be my teacher too. He

knows our family pretty well. He’s come over to help us out when things get tough.” Aaron shot Ian another glance. The officer followed it, his brows lifting. “Yesterday, Ian came over to make us dinner so that I could study after work. I needed

“Did you try his friends?”
“I did. Specifically his girlfriend, but her mother hadn’t seen either of them.” Aaron handed him the list he’d been working on. “This is everyone I know about. His girlfriend and some old friends I haven’t seen around this year. He’s been kind of a loner.”

“Drugs? Alcohol?”
“No, sir. Nothing like that,” Aaron answered.
“Nothing you’re aware of,” the officer corrected.
“I see him at school regularly. He’s been missing a lot of class, but he’s not behaving like

The officer tucked his notebook away. “Yet when I first asked you who you thought he might be with, you told me that his girlfriend is known for being a pothead. Chances are good he’s into it too.”

Aaron nodded reluctantly. He ran a hand through his dark curls. “Yeah,” he breathed dejectedly, “I guess there’s that possibility.”
“I’ll look into this for you, Mr. Hedlund. I’ve got your number. Here’s my card if you think of anything else, or you just need to collect information. I’m writing the case number on the back so the attendant will be able to pull the file up faster for you.”
The officer flipped the card back over when he was done writing, clicked his pen and put it away. He held the card to Aaron, who took it.
“Thank you, Officer Blake.”
“We’ll bring him home. He’s probably still mad and confused. There’s an APB out for him, and you’ve given us several good leads to start looking.” The man smiled reassuringly.
Ian held the door for him and the officer left. When he swung the door closed again, Ian inhaled deeply. “Now we wait.”
“Now I wait,” Aaron said numbly. His eyes flicked to Ian. They seemed flat.
“I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“Really? Because I can see how you might wait with me through Sunday, but you have a job on Monday. You can’t hang around here all day waiting for my miscreant brother to show up.”
“You have a job too. We’ll figure it out. For now, I’ll stay through Sunday, and hopefully he’ll come back before we have to think about the rest of the week,” Ian assured him.
Aaron nodded, silent for a moment. “Is this thing between us—is it because you’re helping me pass time and forget my problems with Mike?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” Ian countered quickly.
“What about what Mike said? About making a choice between men or women? Are you into both?”
“I’m only into you. I’m not interested in woman.”
“But you let Leanne kiss you. Did you tell her you’re gay?” Aaron pressed.
“I’m not out to the staff. I’m out to you, or haven’t I proved that already?”
“Maybe I’m a mercy fuck, Ian. Maybe you feel bad for the poor orphaned kids whose parents died. Maybe you’re bi-curious and between me and Leanne, you get to fuck out your demons,” Aaron snapped.
“Goddamn it! I
like
you,” Ian argued.
He whirled. “And pussy, too, according to Mike. Want to tell me more about that?”
“She kissed
me
.” Ian poked his own chest for emphasis.
“Make up your mind because most of us don’t want to be jerked around,” Aaron yelled.
“You’re right, okay? You’re braver than I am. Not all of us are like you. Not all of us live life unafraid of the consequences of coming out.”
They stared at each other for several seconds. Aaron was scared. He was angry and confused, and he reason to be, Ian realized. He swallowed his pride and backed down.
“He’ll come back,” Ian murmured, switching gears. “He’s just mad. All his stuff is here, and it’s not like he has money to run with.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be attacking you for that. I’m just—I’m worried,” Aaron confessed.
“I know. You’re doing everything you can, but you still need help.”
“I’ve screwed up one thing or another since I came back. Why should he trust me to keep it together now? We’re hardly a family. We’re half a family, maybe.”
“A family is what you make it. Think about it. There are second marriages with kids. There are children raised by grandparents. There are adopted families. Why should the two of you be any different than any of those?” Ian questioned.
“Those families have it together. They have a solid foundation of blood or an agreement to stick together. They committed to it.”
“Don’t you and Mike have blood ties?” Ian stressed. “Don’t you think those other types of families have their share of problems? My dad was a jackass. He was verbally abusive toward my mom, and he went to counseling, but we were a family. So are you and Mike.”
“I just never thought of the two of us as being that connected. We’re years apart in age, and our parents are dead. The only thing holding us together is this house.” Aaron sounded so defeated.
“And you. You’re holding the two of you together. So your definition of family will be a little different, but you’re still a family.”
Aaron sighed heavily. “We would be, if he’d just come home.”
“He will.”
“I should be out there looking for him. I can hardly think straight,” Aaron confessed.
“I’ll go. You stay here. I need to stop by my place for a few things anyway. Call me on my cell and tell me all the places you think he might be. I’ll cruise the town between calls. You need to be here when he gets back and driving distracted won’t help anyone.”
Aaron nodded. “Okay.”

Around midnight Ian walked in the door. He shook his head, looking tired and defeated. “Nothing.”
“I need to go look,” Aaron said. “I know I’ll hit all the places you went to, but I need to go. I can’t sit here anymore.”
“Take my car. It has an emergency call system on the rearview mirror if you need help.”
Aaron took the keys he held out and jogged to the car. Ian stood in the doorway, backlit from the house lights, one hand propped on the doorframe as he watched Aaron go. Aaron kept that image with him for the next two hours while he searched every side road he could think of, before calling it quits.
Even if his brother had decided to disappear, he’d likely be asleep at this time of the morning, he rationalized. Something Aaron should be as well.
He pulled back into the driveway and turned off the ignition. He dropped his forehead on the steering wheel, wishing again for some insight about where to find his brother. The interior light came on and the car dinged as he opened the driver side door to leave. After removing the key and locking up, he trudged to the front door.
He already knew Mike hadn’t come home while he was gone. Ian would’ve called to tell him. Yet as he stood outside the door in the chill of mid-November, he knew that Ian had been right about family. More than that, the feeling of coming home hit him square in the chest so hard that it stole his breath.
Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. They—the two of them, the house, their future as a family—it was all worth protecting. It mattered. Every step he took to keep things going
mattered
. The bills, the meals, the clean dishes and the telemarketers calling so much that it became a joke, the mail in the mailbox, the hours at Casey’s, the battle with homework and his assertion that coming back to raise Mike had been a good decision—it all mattered, actually. Even if sometimes it felt like those pieces got lost in the shuffle. Even if it was difficult. Even if he seemed to be fighting a never-ending battle with the downward spiral of dollars in his bank account.
It mattered because it was home, because it was all part of making his family
work
.
It wasn’t the day to day. Or it
was
. Not in the struggle, but the minutia that made up the week, then the month. In August, when he’d gotten the phone call, pressed up against Barney against a brick wall in a dark parking lot, looking only far enough ahead to the next thirty minutes when he’d
get off
, he’d been a kid. He couldn’t have imagined himself here, now.
And that was part of the irony, because only months later, the man he’d become could hardly remember that kid who’d lived for the next fuck and the next study group. Who’d had his life ahead of him without a care as to who paid his tuition, and whether or not he’d have a law practice. Because of course he would. Kids always believe their dreams come true.
Ian opened the door. “I thought I heard you out here.” He stepped aside to allow Aaron entrance.
Aaron stood planted, looking up at Ian. Tears spilled down his cheeks. Children grew up and bloated dreams were popped with the needle of reality. Adults faced problems head on, or learned to dodge them.
And there was grieving in that too, Aaron realized. He’d lost that kid one August evening in a dark parking lot to the sound of his phone ringing and his brother on the other end begging him to come home. That had been the moment he’d grown up, kicking and screaming because part of him had refused to let go of the blissful Aaron who didn’t have to think about such things.
He’d lost more than his parents that night. He’d lost himself, his dreams, his family, his security, his peace and it had been replaced with a jumbled mess of knots and tangled thoughts that never quite finished and never lead him anywhere but back into the center, tethering himself to himself.
God, he wanted out of his own brain.
Ian pulled him inside and shut the door behind them. He drew Aaron against him murmuring wordlessly out of comfort.
Aaron let himself be held, his face pressed to Ian’s shirt as all the pain cracked and broke the wall he’d built around himself. As though the tears came from someone else, he sobbed, clutched Ian’s sides and let it all go.
Ian stroked Aaron’s hair, pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispered, and Aaron believed him.
How long Ian held him, Aaron didn’t know. Slowly his engulfing sadness petered out to deep, shaky breaths and numbness. Ian didn’t let go of him until he finally lifted his head.
“Come on. I’ll take you to bed,” Ian said, leading him toward the stairs.
Aaron gave him a tired, watery smile. “Any other time and I’d be all over that.”
Ian chuckled. “It’s been a long day. I’ll forgive you for not making a pass at me.”
“Thanks.” Aaron yawned. His eyes felt gritty and dry despite the tears that had left a huge wet spot on Ian’s chest. “You’re a really understanding guy.”
“I try.” Ian’s low voice soothed him.
Ian helped him to the side of his bed and lifted off Aaron’s shirt, while Aaron kicked off his shoes. Exhausted and unable to figure out his belt buckle, he let Ian sweep his hands aside and undo his jeans for him.
He stepped out of them, standing almost as naked as the day he was born. Ian drew back the covers and nudged him backward until Aaron fell back on his mattress. Then silently, Ian removed first one sock then the other, before pulling the covers over him.
“Wait. Don’t go yet,” Aaron pleaded.
“You should sleep.”
“I need you,” Aaron whispered brokenly. He felt the tears slide down his cheeks. He felt bruised and battered. Not by one thing in particular but by all of it. All the worry, all the thoughts competing for his attention. “I just want to let go for a while.”
Ian peeled back the covers and sat beside him. “Close your eyes,” he soothed.
Aaron did as he was told, gulping past the tears, feeling utterly naked before this man physically and emotionally. He’d never felt so stripped, helpless and yet unafraid to have Ian see him exactly as he was. Flawed and needy, and all Ian’s.
Hands drifted over Aaron’s torso, smoothing the skin and stopping to pluck at his nipples before skimming his ribs to his hips. Aaron’s cock raged hard and ready. Ian didn’t spend time ignoring it and for that, Aaron was grateful.
His hand fisted around Aaron’s cock, moistened from spit and Aaron’s own leaking juices. He slid easily, coming to the top with a rolling twist that clenched Aaron’s ass with need. It wouldn’t be long and again, he was glad because he needed the release.
He whimpered and Ian soothed him with soft words and kisses to his thighs. A lick tickled his balls, but the pumping fist methodically brought him to the edge of relief. Ian kissed his sac once more. The weight on the bed changed as he sat up.
He pumped Aaron’s cock relentlessly until he cried out, shooting his release into the dark. Ian got up and returned with tissue. He kissed Aaron’s tearstained cheek.
“Sleep well,” Ian whispered. “I’ll be on the couch downstairs. I’ll let you know if he comes home.”
Aaron swatted out a hand, catching Ian’s wrist. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Get some sleep.”
He sighed an okay. He listened for the muffled retreat of Ian’s steps on the carpet before drifting off to sleep.
* * * *
Aaron stretched arching his back, and blinked up at the ceiling. He reached out beside him, expecting Ian to be there even though he knew better, then sat up when he discovered that he was alone.
He made his way to the bathroom, like he did every morning, going through the motions of cleaning his teeth before leaving the room. He pulled on his jeans. A moment of déjà vu touched him and he smiled as he took the stairs to the kitchen.
Like last time, Ian was fixing coffee. He looked like he’d been awake and showered for a while now.
“Good morning,” Aaron rasped.
“Good morning.” Ian held out a cup, already sweetened and creamed.
Aaron took it, pleased.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Like a log thanks to you.’
Ian gave him a quiet smile and a half-shrug.
“I should’ve told you to take my parent’s room.”
“If I had, you’d be restless wondering if he’d come home, and you’d missed it,” Ian reasoned. “I slept fine. The couch isn’t so bad.”
“I remember. I crashed on it a few times over the years too. Mostly when I was too drunk to climb the steps to my bedroom, and I didn’t want to get railed on by Mom and Dad,” Aaron recalled.
“Aaron,” Ian’s expression sobered. “The police called about ten minutes ago. I heard you moving around so I decided to wait until you came down.”
“What happened?” Aaron stilled, cold dread washing over him.
Ian put a hand up. “Nothing. He’s fine. He was caught with his girlfriend Sara and a considerable amount of marijuana and alcohol. They’re questioning him and bringing him home soon.”
“How soon?” Aaron said, suddenly in a rush to shower and get to the station. “I should go down there and get him.”
“They’re bringing him home. Apparently, he has some things to answer for.”
“Then he needs a legal counsel.” He took a hurried sip of coffee, winced when it scalded the roof of his mouth, and handed the still full mug to Ian. “I gotta go.”
“Aaron,” Ian called after his retreating back. “He has counsel. He wouldn’t talk until they assigned him one from the county office.”
A spark of pride lit Aaron’s chest, quickly followed by alarm. “What did he do? Was there more than the alcohol and marijuana?”
“Not that I know of. They’re not going to hold him. It’s his first and they said they can’t be sure he was involved since Sara was holding the stash and he tested a zero on the breathalyzer.”
“So he wasn’t drinking or doing drugs?” Aaron pressed.
“You can ask him when they bring him home. They said within the hour.”
Aaron nodded and ran upstairs to shower and dress. He was back in the kitchen fifteen minutes later. “Anything new?”
Ian laughed. “No, nothing yet. Drink your coffee. Have breakfast. You need a clear head when they bring him home. Whatever you say to him will stick with him for a long time, so make sure it’s good.”
“God. What do I
say
?”
“What do you want to say?” Ian asked.
“That I’m sorry. That I’ll kick his ass if he pulls this shit again.”
“Hold off on that last one until after he hears how much you care,” Ian suggested.
The front door burst open and a sullen Mike stormed into the house. The officer tailing him looked like he had reached his limit of patience.
“Stay out of trouble and pick up the phone once in a while,” the officer told him. “Man hours for missing person patrols are expensive. If all you want is space, let the people around you know.”
“Thank you for bringing him home, Officer.” Aaron went over to meet with him. “Is there anything I need to know? Does he need to come back to the station?”
“No, the girlfriend is being held for questioning but Michael is clean. Make sure he stays that way, huh? The road he’s heading down isn’t a good one,” the uniformed man told him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Listen, I recognized your brother’s name. I know he’s going through some tough times. Have you thought about counseling?” The officer looked at Aaron earnestly.
“Honestly? I hadn’t. I should’ve,” Aaron admitted, tired of his own failures.
“I was on duty the night of the accident,” the officer said quietly. He leaned in closer to keep his voice low and between them.
Aaron looked at his badge. Officer Gunder seemed sincere and genuinely interested in helping Mike.
“Did you tell him that?” Aaron asked.
“He didn’t want to talk about it, but he should. I won’t forget that one. It was the worst accident I’d been called to since I joined the force. He was pretty distraught that night. It can’t be easy for him knowing his driving killed your parents.”
“He wasn’t driving. Dad was. He hit a tree to avoid a drunk driver and rolled down Miller Road,” Aaron corrected.
“Yeah, that’s the one. I was on duty that night. The kid was driving the vehicle. A blue 2004 Honda Civic.”
Aaron’s face paled. He glanced back at his brother. Ian had a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder, keeping him seated on the couch. Mike looked like he wanted to be anywhere but home.
“Are you sure he was the driver?” Aaron asked.
“I’m sure. I filled out the report. It’s on record if you need a copy.” Officer Gunder’s expression became concerned. “I didn’t just make things worse for the kid, did I? The accident’s a matter of public record. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“He told me Dad was driving. I had no reason to disbelieve him, so I never read the police report and didn’t question the increase in insurance costs. I figured they would go up and they did.” Aaron answered. “God, he must feel like shit,
all the time
.”
Part of Aaron hoped he did. The part that had been lied to and had lost his parents to that lie. Because if Mike hadn’t been driving, his parents might still be alive. Yet there was another part that ached for his little brother and the guilt he had to be feeling. No wonder he spent as little time at home as he could. God, who could blame him?
Shaken, Aaron thanked the officer, promising to consider counseling for Mike. Although now he felt fairly certain they both needed it. How the hell was he going to parent a kid who was responsible for the absolute destruction of everything he loved?
“Have a good day.” The officer hopped down the front steps of the house.
Aaron shut the door behind him. Blessed numbness had washed over him. His ears rang slightly, but distantly he thought they should be, given what he’d just found out. Bile rose up in his throat. Aaron ran for the bathroom and emptied his stomach.
Mike had killed them. Mike had killed them and lied about it. Mike had changed the course of Aaron’s future and ended the futures of his parents. All the precious memories would only ever be that—memories of things that should have continued on. Like family dinners and camping trips, movies and placing the star on the Christmas tree. Memories that would never adapt to changes like Mike or Aaron becoming parents one day, graduation, none of it. Mom and Dad would fade.
Aaron’s ears rang louder. Vaguely he heard Ian call his name. He shouted back that he was okay, he thought. It might have been senseless garble, but it worked to keep Ian and Mike where they were while Aaron emptied his stomach again and again.
How did he help Mike when he could barely keep himself together?
As quickly as the searing loss hit him, so came the pain that Mike must’ve been dealing with. If it had been Aaron instead of Mike, how would he have handled it? Aaron scooted back against the bathroom wall, resting his head on the ridiculous flower printed wallpaper their mother had picked out. The same wallpaper Mike and Aaron had hung for her, getting more glue on themselves than the decorative strips.