Fight (30 page)

“Please…” All these weeks, and Matt had avoided any questions about Fury. Where he was, what he was doing… If Nathan pushed, Matt had told Nathan, firmly but kindly, that Matt protected everyone’s privacy, including Nathan’s. And including Fury’s. The very thing that had driven Fury to trust and love Matt had been the trait that had sent Nathan following in Fury’s footsteps, but also quietly going insane with anxiety. Nathan could smell the burning flesh of dead bodies and the smoke rising off their flaming clothes. “Do you have news?”

“I do,” Matt answered, and immediately added, “It’s good news.”

“Oh, thank God.” Nathan put his head between his knees, took a breath, and sat up. “Okay. Hit me.”

“Hale’s fine,” Matt said, and Nathan loved the man for saying that part first. “And he’s given me permission to talk to you.”

“Why doesn’t he do it himself?”

“I can’t answer that, but I can tell you what I know and what he wants you to know.”

Nathan didn’t respond, too busy being relieved, so Matt continued. “He went back that night to the warehouse. And he went with his sister to the hospital. I understand she wasn’t too pleased by those choices.”

“She wasn’t the only one,” Nathan muttered.

“I know. But that’s what he did. And he was detained. I confess, I was the one who gave him the name of a lawyer. Member of the congregation, a good soul. I don’t know the particulars, as I’m no lawman or cop, but I do know that Tray didn’t make it. He died from his wounds.”

“Good,” Nathan said and didn’t bother feeling guilty over a man’s death while in the presence of a minister.

“I’m sure many feel that way. Without him alive, though, and connecting his operation to the larger organization he’s working for, this particular case is, as I understand it, falling apart. There was already very little linking Fury to the mess. What evidence that did exist went up with the warehouse. Dennis and Elizabeth are both denying his involvement, and Fury told me that his lawyer mentioned putting Fury on the witness stand wouldn’t help anybody.”

“Why not?”

“Something about the history of fighting and the tattoos.”

“Oh,” Nathan said. “Well, that’s good, right? He’s in the clear?”

“I think so. But Dennis and Elizabeth are still living links to a much larger fish.”

“So they’re in custody?”

“Protective custody. Until further notice.”

Nathan nodded. “Fury expected that might happen.”

“That’s true, he did, and the anticipation is making the situation a little easier.”

Nathan smiled wryly. “But not as easy as Fury thought it’d go, huh?”

“Well, now, don’t go underestimating him too much—” Matt began.

“I would never,” Nathan said firmly.

Matt paused. “It’s true. You wouldn’t.” Matt clasped his hands, steepling his index fingers. “Did you hear of our new educational outreach program?”

“No?” Nathan asked, confused.

“It seems,” Matt said, standing and walking around to sit behind his desk, “that someone saw fit to give Glory a rather large cash donation. Anonymously.”

Nathan’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. God and His workers only know where it came from, but it’s a true blessing. I’ve been trying to set up a scholarship fund for years now. The money was more than enough to fix that bathroom vandalism and to start the fund, and Hale will be our first recipient.”

“He will?”

Matt smiled. “He will. He tells me that once he gets his GED, he wants to go to school to be a counselor. Said to tell you that specifically. That you would probably approve.”

Nathan would not cry. He’d shed enough tears over Fury in this office. He would not do it again. Stubbornly, he frowned at the floor until the urge passed. “Yeah. I do. It’s fantastic really.”

“We think so. I hope that his hours here at Glory will count toward the ones he’ll need to complete the program. Those things always require community service in a counseling center.”

Nathan nodded, but he couldn’t get words to work for him. Matt leaned closer, arms on his desk. “I’ve been in the helping-people business for a long time, and I’ve seen plenty of relationships struggling to stay together when they should go ahead and fall apart. But you two…” Matt waited until Nathan looked up. “In my professional opinion, you two are suffering entirely too much by being separated from one other.”

“It wasn’t exactly my decision,” Nathan said.

“I know.”

“I’d go to him if I knew where he was.”

“Or welcome him back if he came to you?”

“Yes.” Nathan clutched the edge of Matt’s desk, fingers slippery on the cloth. “Yes.”

Matt hummed. “All right, then. Allow me to tell you a story about a man who came to see me. He was a good man with plenty of heart, who had worked harder than most people to get through the twists and turns in life. Some would say it was his own choices that had made the road more crooked than it had to be, but I’d say it was even amounts of coping with the hand he was dealt and trying to do the best with what he had at any one moment in time. He got in trouble, he got a few lucky breaks, and he put in the effort to get over the bad things that had happened. For a while, he thought he had it figured out, but one day he met someone who made him think that there could be more in life than just jumping from one crisis-recovery program to the next.

“Now, this person was no stranger to the fear hope can inspire.” Matt chuckled. “Jesus was a savior for many reasons, but one of the biggest was His ability to give hope to the masses. And hope, as any oppressor knows, is the most terrifying weapon there is. I think this man who came to see me knew that. But instead of running from the person who threatened to turn his life upside down, he stayed. And he decided to become a better version of himself.”

“He went off to get his shit together so he could be with the person who changed his life,” Nathan murmured.

“I think so, yes,” Matt said, tone careful and gentle.

Nathan’s eyes burned. On the wall behind Matt was a calendar, and Nathan stared at the wedding date, still two weeks in the future. His conversations with Laura since the night of the warehouse had been brief. He’d agreed to anything she said, and she hadn’t pushed him for information, as though she knew that one wrong word would mean him abandoning what was left of their plan. Nathan’s meetings with Greg had been few and far between, and Greg’s eyes behind his glasses had been chilly, aloof, and hurt. Confusion lurked in their depths, but he’d not asked what was wrong or for Nathan to explain. He’d been compassionate about Nathan’s “illness.” He’d been kind.

The chair scraped the floor when Nathan rose. “Will you tell him something? For me?”

“I can do that, yes.”

“Okay.” Nathan cleared his mind. “Tell him that I understand, and tell him what I’m doing. Tell him everything. That I’m going to meetings, that I’m seeing you; what we talk about, what I say in group. Tell him I’m washing dishes after dinners in an apron that makes the Women’s Group laugh, and that I don’t think I’ll ever believe in God, but I can and do believe in him. Tell him that won’t change, even if he never comes back. And please, tell him that he’s not the
reason
. But he’s the goal. To be good enough for him, that’s what I want. I think it’s what I’ve always wanted, right from the very beginning.”

“I’ll give him the message,” Matt promised.

“Thank you.” Nathan hesitated. “Tell him if and when he comes home, it’ll be just to me and not to any of the mess I’ve made. And tell him that as far as I’m concerned, he saved my life.”

Nathan turned to go, but Matt got there first, pulling Nathan into an embrace. Nathan gave in to the temptation to bury his face in Matt’s shoulder, but eventually, he had to step away.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked.

For a split second, Nathan was sitting on the couch with Fury, laughing and talking about tattoos. He was in Fury’s arms, listening to the sound of rain.

If Fury could go back to the scene of the crime to bury his dead and try to find peace of body and soul, then Nathan could as well.

Nathan opened the door. “I’m going to go surrender the war.”

* * * *

Crosses, plaques, and awards hung on every wall of Greg’s home office. The desk was an oak antique, the worn tartan chairs were plush, and the rear side of the two-story stone fireplace occupied one entire wall. A small fire was going on both sides, tonight, and Nathan watched the flames, waiting for Greg to finish making the drinks.

“Here you go,” Greg said, passing Nathan a soda water. He patted Nathan’s shoulder and took the chair next to Nathan’s, not the one behind the desk. He had on a blue sweater and slacks. Casual, for Greg.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Nathan said, swirling the drink and sipping at it.

“Of course, of course. You still on the mend?” Greg asked.

Nathan nodded. “Getting there, I think.”

“Good, good.” Greg crossed his legs and rested the glass on his knee. “What’s on your mind, son?”

“Never one for the small talk, are you, sir?” Nathan asked.

“You were out of the office for almost two weeks, and you’ve not been acting right for longer than that. And if you’re acting peculiar, Laura’s worse. I’m concerned, and I’d rather get to the point.”

Nathan noticed that Greg didn’t mention Nathan’s use of the term “sir.” Nathan sighed. “I understand. What I have to tell you isn’t… It’s not easy, and I don’t… I have to do it, but I don’t…”

“I didn’t think you were calling me for a private meeting in my home after Wednesday-night church service to tell me good news. Go on.” Greg lifted his glass. “Out with it.”

A clock ticked on the mantel, and the fire crackled. “I don’t know where to start,” Nathan admitted.

“Try the beginning, son.”

Nathan took a deep breath. He quickly looked at Greg, who studied the fire, sipping his Scotch and waiting. Nathan had intended to explain only the plot with Laura and that Nathan was gay and Laura in love, but instead, he found himself saying, “I’m not who you think I am, sir, and it’s killing me.”

Over the next half hour, Nathan told Greg everything. He started with the first time he’d met Laura, and he kept going with every sordid detail. The drugs, the boys, Laura’s unhappiness, Laura’s real motivations, and Laura’s solution, all of it tumbled out of Nathan’s mouth. Nathan came clean about the fight he’d had with Paul at the engagement party, and he filled Greg in on Fury, the crush, the history, the counseling, the MMA, and he finished by summing up the real events that had led to Nathan taking time off of work.

“I believe we belong together, Fury and me, sir. It was Fury who told me the reason I was beating myself up so badly about the wedding was because I finally figured out I couldn’t go through with it. Until Fury, you were better to me than anyone else, and I couldn’t repay you like that.” Nathan twirled his empty glass in his hands, forearms on his thighs and face on fire. “So I had to tell you, and so… Here I am.”

Greg had listened to the sordid story, giving Nathan center stage, spotlights and all. When Nathan was finally done, Greg set his glass down on a table and folded his hands in his lap. “My daughter is a lesbian?” he asked, far more calmly that Nathan would have imagined.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re gay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And involved with another…man.” Greg seemed to have trouble with the word. “Who has a record, and the two of you were connected to that warehouse bombing?”

“Yes. That’s correct, sir.”

An expression overcame Greg that Nathan had never seen. Greg was shocked. “And…and you’re… Both you boys are… All right?”

“We’re trying to be.”

“The situation is being handled by the authorities?”

“Yes.”

“So long as everyone is safe and legal.” Greg nodded somberly, as though closing that matter in his mind. “And you’re here tonight telling me that my child was plotting to deceive me, and you were in on the plans from the beginning?”

Nathan’s knee bounced. “Yes, sir.”

“And she doesn’t know you’re telling me?”

“No, sir. She doesn’t.”

Greg’s scowl dripped disapproval. “Not particularly honorable behavior, son.”

“All due respect, sir, but telling you might be the first honorable thing I’ve done for her or with you regarding the wedding or our relationships. I know I’m betraying her tonight, sir, I do, but if I told her my plans, she might have been able to talk me out of them. She wouldn’t have agreed.”

“Did you ever think of telling her you simply wouldn’t marry her?” Greg asked, dully. “Hard to have a wedding without a groom, son.”

Nathan’s spine went rigid. Nathan could have called Laura, told her he wouldn’t go through with it, and let her screech. He’d have had to deal with her being furious and trying to convince him to change his mind, but it wouldn’t have involved Greg. “That’s true, sir, but it wouldn’t have been telling you the real story.”

“And that’s important to you now, is it?”

Fury’s smile, Fury’s hands, Fury’s truck growing smaller in the distance… “Yes, sir,” Nathan said. “It is, and to be honest, it didn’t really occur to me to tell Laura no.”

Greg chuckled. “It doesn’t occur to most people. My little pistol.” Greg rubbed his mouth. “Who couldn’t tell me…”

“I hoped she would,” Nathan said hesitantly.

“Well, now you’ve done it for her.”

Nathan flinched, unable to read Greg’s tone. “I’m sorry. I was trying to do the right thing.”

Greg patted the air with one hand in Nathan’s direction. “I can see that your loyalties ran to me, not Laura, and I can understand why that is.”

Greg didn’t seem particularly pleased with his understanding. “You can?” Nathan asked.

“Yes,” Greg said. “You appear to respect honesty in others even if you can’t always find it in yourself. The truth is hard, son. The money and Laura had to matter. You had reasons to agree, just like you’ve got reasons to quit, and Laura’s stubborn. Likely she never would have told me any of this if it didn’t suit her.” Greg sounded almost proud, but it was short-lived, and Greg grew dour. “So I can see why you did what you did, tonight, even if…” Greg frowned. “She’s in love with a woman in Italy?” He got up and rested a hand on the mantel. Nathan didn’t answer what he thought was a rhetorical question.