Love Starved (23 page)

Now he was ready to go deeper, as deep as needed. He would find it—his hook, point of entry. Because everyone had skeletons in their closets, and he had a feeling that men like Richard Preston would have more than most. Third cup of coffee buzzing through his veins, Micah cracked his knuckles and got to work.

When Micah climbed the steps
to Aiden’s apartment that evening, he was whistling happily despite a wicked headache. He was bearing gifts: takeout from the Greek place Aiden loved; wine, because they hadn’t drunk any together at the theater; and the box set of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
, because he thought it was that kind of evening.

And for after—when they were full and relaxed—he had something else: a slim blue folder that should solve Aiden’s problem once and for all.

The plan didn’t go exactly
as expected.

“No,” Aiden repeated, his arms crossed. “I won’t fight back using the same weapon he does. Are you kidding?”

“Why not?”

“Because blackmail is wrong, and I know that better than most.” Aiden resumed the pacing that had started when Micah revealed what he’d done.

“And I’m not claiming it isn’t. I’m just saying that sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Especially when there’s not much else you can do.”

“I can keep doing what I’ve been doing. I’ll just be more careful.” Aiden crossed his arms tighter over his chest until his shoulders rose. “Listen, I appreciate your trying to help, but I never asked you to fix my life for me. You don’t have to feed me, or entertain me, and you certainly don’t have to save me. I can manage just fine.”

Micah groaned. “When did I say you can’t? But the way he is escalating, this is a tragedy waiting to happen.”

“And how is
me
threatening
him
going to help that? He’ll smash me, Micah. He won’t even hesitate before hitting that
Send
button if I try to defy him.”

“Not if you use what I’ve brought you. There’s no way he’ll risk his family knowing—”

Aiden stopped in his tracks, his hands coming up in a defensive gesture. “
Stop.
I don’t want to know what dirt you found on him.”

“But—”

“No, Micah. It’s dangerous and wrong, and I’m done talking about it. Wasn’t tonight supposed to be a fun, normal evening?”

Micah sighed, though he felt like screaming. He couldn’t force Aiden to accept help, but oh, how he wished he could make him see.

“Okay. Fine. Then what do you want me to do?”

“Go home. I’m going to get some sleep.”

Because tomorrow was Monday. And on Monday, unlike Sunday, anything could happen. Micah ground his teeth; the desire to shake Aiden and make him realize he was playing with his life was almost too strong to resist. He got up from the couch.

“Fine. But I’m leaving the printouts here, in case you change your mind. Do with them what you want.” He stepped toward Aiden and pulled him into a quick, gentle hug, stepping back before it could be returned—or rejected. “Do you want to meet tomorrow?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Okay. Let me know? And keep in contact. Please. Any time, day or night, my phone is on. I meant what I said. I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

Aiden nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Micah walked to the door, but he turned back before opening it.

“And I’m not trying to fix anything for you. This is your battle. I’m just a friendly arms dealer dropping you some deadly freebies. What you do with them is your decision,” he said with his hand on the doorknob. “But if you do decide to use them, please make sure you’re at a safe distance. Those are not close-range weapons. The rebound could be nasty.”

With a last glimpse, against every instinct telling him to stay, Micah went out of the apartment and closed the door.

The next two days passed
without surprises. They didn’t see each other, but Aiden texted Micah a few times to let him know he was okay. Still, Micah kept guard by the phone as if it could actually stop anything bad from happening—he took it to the bathroom with him, kept the sound on even while giving a lecture, and made sure the battery was charged at all times. On Tuesday evening, when he realized that he’d left the phone on the little hall table when he went for a grocery run, he practically jogged home, dead certain Aiden had called him for help just as soon as he left it out of earshot. He tried to be productive at work, but he couldn’t focus on anything.

The more time passed, the more menacing the whole situation felt, and the more Micah was convinced that he should have handled the matter differently. Maybe if he’d been open about what his plan was from the beginning, Aiden would have had enough time to get used to the idea.

Or maybe that wouldn’t have changed anything. Either way, it was no use speculating now. He had to accept that there was nothing more he could do—it was all in Aiden’s hands. Still, the thought of going home to his parents for Thanksgiving and being so far away in case Aiden needed him was more than a little nerve-wracking.

Micah was just putting his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher on Wednesday morning when sudden pounding on the door almost sent a plate flying. He was out of the kitchen in a heartbeat, jerking the door open in the next one, and there he was—Aiden, looking tense and agitated, stumbling inside with his eyes wild.

“What happened?” Micah asked, following him to the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“I told him,” Aiden said, pacing the room with his arms wound tightly around himself. “I used your file. And I think I need a drink. My insides are shaking.”

Micah opened the liquor cabinet as his own heartbeat speeded up. “Is it safe, with your stomach?” he hesitated with a tumbler in his hand.

“My stomach can handle one shot, and the rest of me could really use it now,” Aiden said, and Micah nodded.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Tequila. Whiskey tastes like cockroaches.”

Micah snorted and took out the slim tall bottle. “So do you snack on cockroaches often?” he asked conversationally as he poured the clear liquid.

Aiden laughed, clearly a bit calmer now. “Nope, I generally try to avoid them. Not a big fan. Thank you.” He downed the shot, winced and put down the glass, then finally perched on a stool.

Micah sat on the other one. “So what happened?”

“Okay, so he called me about an hour ago, with the name of a motel and a room number, and said I was to be there in twenty minutes.”

“And you told him no?”

Aiden shook his head. “I tried to reason with him. I told him it was too soon, that I was still healing from the last time. That my stomach hurt again.”

Micah frowned, concerned. “Does it?”

“No, I’m fine. I just hoped I could buy a few more days. But no, he said the clock was ticking and if I didn’t hurry up, I’d hurt a lot more soon. Then he hung up. And I just… I froze.” He took a steadying breath and tugged on the silver charm on the leather bracelet he always wore around his right wrist. “I thought about this being my life, day after day, with no way out, no choice, and I wondered how soon I would reach the point when I would rather kill myself than do it again.”

Micah’s heart dropped. He reached for Aiden’s free hand, seeking comfort just as much as offering it. Aiden took his hand gratefully, squeezing it tight before continuing.

“And then I saw your folder, right where you left it. When he called me forty minutes later, asking where the hell I was, I told him that I wasn’t coming and… and that he was never to call me again, or his family would hear all about Sophie and little Leo.”

“How did he react?” Micah realized his free hand was clenched into a fist.

“He went quiet for a moment, and then he started yelling, curses and threats, and I disconnected and switched my phone off, and ran out of the apartment before he could get there.”

Micah froze. “Wait. He knows your address?”

“Yeah. He saw my documents, remember?”

“Has he ever been to your place?”

“No. He always says he’ll pay me a surprise visit one night, but hasn’t yet.” Aiden kept rubbing the charm, the little Celtic knot that was barely visible between his fingers.

Micah shuddered. “Whoa. I hope you have good locks. And I’m proud of you. That must have been scary as hell.”

“Actually, the scariest part was imagining it, you know?” Aiden admitted. “Once I was faced with the alternative, the fear didn’t matter. I just couldn’t go there again.” His hand slipped from Micah’s and slid up to the bruises on his neck, fading to yellow now. “Though I guess it’s adrenaline talking. I doubt he’ll go away quietly.”

As much as Micah hoped Richard would just disappear, he knew it was unlikely. The man was used to being in control, and now he’d been not only threatened, but deprived of the sexual gratification he’d come to take for granted. No, he wouldn’t be quiet and docile in defeat.

But defeat it would be. He had too much to lose to risk exposure. And Micah had more tricks up his sleeve if the message needed reinforcing.

“I think you need a few days away from your place, in case he decides to bother you there,” Micah said.

Aiden bit his lip. “I can’t really afford a hotel right now.”

“You could stay here tonight. And tomorrow—have you thought about spending Thanksgiving with your family?”

Aiden firmly shook his head. “No. Not an option. I already told them I’m working. I don’t want to go there. Plus, if he decides to out me, it’s the last place I want to be.”

“Okay, how about you go home with me then?” Micah asked, barely stopping to think it through. “I’m staying at my parents’ in Marshall until Monday morning. Do you have any early classes?”

“No, but—what would your family say?”

Micah shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Well… considering they’ve been asking if you’re coming for the last few weeks, I think it’s safe to say they would be fine with it.”

Aiden’s eyebrows shot up. “They have?”

“I may have neglected to tell them we’re not together.” Micah winced. He had planned to drop some hints that they were having problems during this visit. It was just hard to remember they were breaking up when their true relationship was so much more real. “They adore you, in case you haven’t noticed,” he added.

Aiden arched his eyebrows, surprised. “And… you wouldn’t mind if I went with you?”

“Aiden, when have I ever minded your company? It would be great to have you there.” Micah smiled. “Mind you, it’s a boring little town, completely dreary in November, and it’s four days with not much in terms of entertainment, not even a decent mall for miles.”

Aiden brightened, the smile starting in the corners of his lips and spreading over his entire face. “I don’t need entertainment, and being away from home sounds like heaven right now. Plus, you’ll be there.”

“Every hour of every day,” Micah said. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“With pleasure.”

They grinned at each other, the original problem momentarily forgotten. Thanksgiving hadn’t seemed this exciting since Micah was a kid.

That afternoon, after Micah returned from the office, they drove to Aiden’s apartment to pack his suitcase. They only spent ten minutes there, and still Aiden looked nervous and tense, clutching a pepper spray container tightly in his hand as they left the building and walked the short distance to Micah’s car. As usual, the street was packed tight with cars occupying every inch of parking space, but none of them followed as they drove off. Nothing suspicious happened at all. They were safe.

By the time they sat
down to Thanksgiving dinner, Micah knew for sure that taking Aiden home with him had been the best thing he could have done. Aiden, who’d been rather withdrawn and silent since their trip to his apartment yesterday, now looked cheerful and animated, enthusiastically helping with anything that didn’t involve actual food preparation, bickering with Claudia and looking completely at home in the tiny house.

They weren’t pretending to be a couple—not deliberately so, with little displays of affection for everyone to see. Aiden had enough on his plate, and so Micah hadn’t even tried to discuss being fake boyfriends during their drive. Considering the effect his recent confession had had, he wasn’t sure the words would have passed his lips even if the circumstances had been different. What right did he have to ask something like that from Aiden, anyway? Micah had made this mess himself, and he would have to deal with it when the time came. Today, they were just being themselves, acting as they normally did around each other. And if anyone asked—well, Micah would worry about it then. For now, the biggest challenge was remembering to call Aiden Angel, and not blushing like a virgin at the memories the name brought.

The dinner table was crowded with the six of them, which meant Aiden had to sit so close to Micah that their knees were pressed together and their hands met whenever they reached for anything. It felt weirdly intimate, and Micah was glad to see that Aiden didn’t seem to mind. Last night at Micah’s apartment he’d asked to sleep on the couch, and Micah had wondered how they would manage the close quarters during this weekend if he still needed his space—the house didn’t have a guest room, and with everyone around, the living room was the busiest place at all hours. Well, if Aiden still wanted to sleep alone tonight, Micah could always go to the attic and get the old air mattress Claudia used to use when she’d had sleepovers with her friends.

By tradition at the Geller house, before they ate, everyone said what they were most grateful for this year.

“I’m thankful that the theater got its head out of its ass—sorry Mom, its behind—and finally gave me a chance to prove myself,” Claudia started. “And I’m grateful for Brad’s support when I was going crazy from the pressure.” She smiled at her fiancé and he smiled back.

“I’m grateful for the bees,” he said. Everyone laughed. This had become a tradition of sorts too. Brad tended to think of things bigger than personal blessings—quite a lot bigger. Last year it had been photosynthesis.

“I’m thankful for you guys,” Micah said, his heart swelling with the happiness of this moment, never changing, year after year at the same old table, with the same traditions, even when the rest of their lives sped forward. “And for the business doing so well, too,” he added as an afterthought. He looked to his left at Aiden, arching his brow in a wordless inquiry. Aiden nodded.

“I know it will sound cliché,” he said, eyes bright and face earnest, “but I’m most grateful for Micah this year. I honestly don’t know where I would be right now if I hadn’t met him. He saved me, in more ways than one.”

His voice broke minutely at the end and Micah turned his hand to intertwine their fingers, squeezing tight, ignoring Claudia’s
awww
as he stared at Aiden. It only just struck him, really—between the bleeding ulcer earlier and Richard now—the meaning of Aiden’s words. He never thought about himself that way; he was no savior. And yet, he was so grateful he’d been there when he could help.

A loud sniffle pulled him back from drowning in Aiden’s eyes. Across the table, his mom was drying her tears with a napkin.

“Don’t mind me.” She laughed wetly. “It’s just… this is all I’ve ever wanted, right here.” She looked between Micah and Claudia. “The two of you happy and fulfilled, with good people by your sides. This is what I’m thankful for. My family, flourishing and growing.”

The smile, genuine a minute ago, felt plastered to Micah’s face. But he kept it there, and Aiden held his hand, and everything was fine. There were more important things than his heart breaking.

Aiden was silent when they
got to Micah’s room that night. He unpacked his things and went to take a shower, and when Micah returned from his turn in the bathroom, he was sitting cross-legged on the bed—the left side, which Micah had long started to think of as Aiden’s side—looking into space. Micah closed the door behind him and stopped uncertainly at the foot of the bed.

“Sorry, my mom can be pretty intense sometimes,” he said. “I should have told them by now, I know. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

Aiden’s gaze shifted and focused on him, and a small smile flashed over his face, gone after just a second. “No, don’t apologize. I’m not uncomfortable. In fact, this was the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in many years. Thank you for inviting me.”

Micah stepped to his side of the bed and sat down. “Then why are you so sad?”

“I just—” Aiden hesitated, stroking his fingertip along the stitching of the colorful old quilt covering Micah’s bed, and not meeting his eyes. “I just can’t help wondering what it would be like if what your mom said could be true, that’s all.”

“But…” Micah frowned. “It could be. You know that, don’t you? If you wanted to, it could all be true. If you wanted me, I’d be yours.”

Aiden closed his eyes and shook his head. “Micah—”

“No, I know,” Micah hurried to assure him. “You don’t want it, and that’s okay. I understand. I just wanted you to know—you always have a place here, and in my heart, whether it’s as my friend or boyfriend or occasional lover, or whatever we happen to be at any given time.”

Aiden looked at him with a weary expression. “You seem to be forgetting I’m just a prostitute.”

“You’re my
friend
. And so what if you happen to be working as an escort to pay for your education?”

Aiden’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. “You think I’m doing this to pay for school?”

“Well, you’re definitely not doing this to live in luxury. And I think I would have noticed by now if you had a rampant drug habit. So unless you have a bunch of illegitimate kids somewhere that you support…”

“I don’t. But I don’t do this to pay for school, either. I have a student loan for that.” Aiden stretched and slid under the covers. “Are you okay with me sleeping here?”

“Why would I have a problem with it now, after all this time?”

“Well, you realized you have feelings for me, so maybe I shouldn’t tease you by being so close when we can never really be together?”

The
never
stung, but Micah shrugged it off. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that already. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be fine.” He climbed into bed, too, and switched off the lamp.

They lay in silence, inevitably close in the double bed, until Micah couldn’t resist anymore. They’d never talked about this, and now his curiosity got the better of him.

“So how long have you been doing this?”

For a moment it seemed he wouldn’t get a reply, but then, “It will be three years in April.”

“How did it start?”

Aiden turned to face him in the dark. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because we’re friends. I want to know things about you. Unless this is something you don’t want me to ask about.”

“I don’t mind, but it’s a long, boring story. I’ve never talked about it to anyone.”

“Well, we talk about a lot of things that we don’t really share with anyone else, haven’t you noticed? And I’m not particularly sleepy.”

“Hmmm.”

The silence lasted so long this time that Micah thought Aiden must have dozed off, but then Aiden shifted and said, “There was a guy in college, in my senior year. Theo. He was a transfer student from New York, and he never let anyone forget it. You may know the type—thinking he’s better than anyone else because Daddy gave him more money than he knew what to do with.”

Micah hummed his confirmation. He’d met people like that during his own college years.

“Theo was absolutely convinced he could have anything and anyone he wanted. And for some reason, he wanted me. I wasn’t interested, and he was coming on way too strongly for my liking, so I pointed out that I had a boyfriend. He said he didn’t mind. He only wanted to have sex with me anyway.”

“Rude.”

Aiden chuckled. “Yeah. He was bothering me on and off for half of the fall semester, mostly just dropping suggestive jokes, until finally he cornered me at a party one weekend and said he would pay me five hundred dollars to, as he phrased it, ‘tap that ass.’ When I told him he was insane and that he couldn’t buy me, he said that everyone could be bought and upped his offer to a thousand, just for one night. I laughed him off—my parents didn’t throw thousands at me left and right, but my family was relatively well-off. I never lacked for money. Still, he said he’d wait.”

“Nice guy,” Micah said.

“I don’t think he was aiming for nice. Anyway, a month later, at the beginning of my final semester, I got a phone call from my mother. She called from a hospital to tell me that my father was in the ICU after a massive heart attack, and that the doctors weren’t optimistic about the outcome.”

Micah’s eyes widened in the dark. “Oh shit. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Aiden paused and when he resumed, his tone was just a smidge more bitter. “What would you think of me if I told you that I wasn’t, not in that moment? I was kind of numb. It was more like hearing about some distant relative than my own father.”

“So you weren’t close to him?”

“I wasn’t close to anyone in my family, Micah.” Aiden sighed. “My parents had me late, in their forties, and I was an unwelcome surprise, which they never kept from me. They hadn’t had the time or the strength for another kid, not with two teenagers at home, so I was mostly taken care of by our live-in housekeeper. I mean, I had absolutely everything I needed, and no one treated me badly or anything, but most of my childhood memories of my parents consist of them telling me to go play or read or study in my room, and to stop talking for one damn minute. The only thing they were interested in were my grades, and they expected me to be the very best in my class, which, as you know, I never quite managed until college.”

“Oh, wow.” Micah didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine not being close to his parents. For lack of words, he shifted closer to Aiden until their knees touched and put a hand on his arm. Aiden reached to take it instead and tangled their legs together.

“So you see why I wasn’t immediately paralyzed by the news. I hardly even
knew
my father, really.” He paused. “Of course, I snapped out of it and caught the first plane home, only to learn that my mother hadn’t told me all the bad news yet.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Apparently there had been trouble at the company my father owned, and that morning, he’d finally filed for bankruptcy—just before he collapsed, in fact. He’d pumped all of their money into saving the company over the last few years, and my mother had never worked, so essentially, they were broke. If he’d died, my mother would have been able to live comfortably from his insurance. But he pulled through.”

Micah struggled for anything to say, and before he could find something, Aiden squeezed his hand, “Oh God, that sounded terrible. Please don’t think I’m saying it would have been better if he died—I’m glad he’s fine. We’re even somewhat closer now; at least we talk on the phone every now and then. But sometimes, when I have a bad day or after a particularly draining job, I catch myself thinking, ‘What if?’ Because I wouldn’t have started all this if they hadn’t been in such a dramatic situation after my father left the hospital, and I wonder what my life would have been like.”

“Wait, you became an escort to help your parents?” Micah sat up in the bed, staring at Aiden as if he’d seen him for the first time. He should have probably realized where the tale was heading, but somehow he’d failed to connect the dots.

“Well, I had to help them somehow,” Aiden said. He sounded defensive. “At first I didn’t think I could—I had a great internship, but it barely paid enough to support myself, and once the semester ended, there would be law school tuition to pay, too. I considered other options—taking night shifts somewhere, or giving up school for a while, even joining an essay mill.”

“Really? An essay mill? Wouldn’t that be cheating?”

“More like facilitating cheating, and I know, I know. I’m not proud of that idea. It’s just, researching and writing papers on any topic has always been easy for me, so I thought it might be a way. But when I visited my parents again a month later, I realized I had to find something better, and find it fast. They’d sold the house, but they still had a lot of medical bills to pay off, and no income—my father was unable to work, and my mother didn’t leave the bed most days; she just gave up. I had to do something, especially when my siblings had nothing but excuses to offer.”

“So what did you do?” Micah asked, his throat tight.

“I came back here, called Theo, and said I would sleep with him, for a thousand.” Aiden wasn’t looking at him anymore, but was doodling circles on the pillow with his finger instead. “He paid me up front. He even threw in two hundred more when I let him call me Matt and agreed to say his name in this particular way as he fucked me. Turned out I reminded him of an ex-boyfriend. I didn’t even have to stay the night—two hours and I left his apartment twelve hundred richer. I immediately sent the money to my parents. When Theo asked again, I didn’t even hesitate.” Aiden turned to lie on his back and ran his hands through his hair. “He actually turned out to be a decent guy, you know? He never told anyone about me, and when he got over the ex a couple months later and found a new boyfriend, he asked if I’d be interested in doing the same for some other people he knew.”

“And you did.”

“It felt good, you know?” Aiden finally looked at him, imploring. “Not the sleeping with random people part, though I was good at it, but the knowledge I could help my parents somehow when they had no way to help themselves.”

“Don’t they wonder where you get the money?”