Redemption FinalWPF6 7 (8 page)

As she replayed Gabe’s words, her heart felt as if it might
pound right out of her chest. Did Uriah love her? She just didn’t know, had never
known how he felt about her. At one time she’d allowed herself to hope that
Uriah cared for her, but that had been a long time ago, and it had been wrong
in so many ways.
Jesus, this makes everything a thousand times worse. How will
Uriah feel when he discovers the truth behind his brother’s suicide? When he
finally realizes that I’m the reason Pete killed himself?

“Diane, why didn’t you tell him?” Gabe asked, making her
jump. How could he know she was awake or that she’d heard their conversation?

“What?” she asked, making her voice sleepy. She blinked
rapidly, as if she’d just awakened. She was stalling for time, but a look at
Gabe’s face told her the ruse wasn’t working. Uriah moved further back until he
was seated next to her, but not too close.

“How do you know I didn’t just wake up?” She knew she
sounded sulky, but she did not want to talk about this right now, especially
after last night.

Gabe lifted a shoulder, but didn’t look away from her. She
sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Life is complicated. It’s also short. Obviously you heard
at least a little of our conversation. Which means you heard how Uriah feels
about you. Don’t you think it’s time he heard from you, too?”

Diane reached for her water bottle and took a long drink,
buying herself a little more time to think. There were rules in her life now.
Rules that demanded honesty and apology to those she hurt. Uriah was the one
she’d hurt the most over the years, and he’d never complained, never stopped
supporting her. He deserved to know the truth and she…the thought trailed off
before she gave herself a mental shake. She knew it was time, because she
needed to be set free.

“Why don’t you tell me, instead?” Gabe interrupted her
thoughts, as though he already knew her decision and just wanted to help. “Uriah,
lie down beside her and just listen. How long have you known Uriah, Dee?”

Diane sat up and waited until Uriah was stretched out on the
sleeping bag next to hers. It was too hot to climb inside, too hot to touch. She
glanced over at Uriah but quickly turned away. Talking to Gabe seemed a lot
easier than looking at Uriah’s big dark eyes and unreadable expression.

“Oh lord, now that goes way back. I think he was twelve and
I would have been sixteen. His family moved into our neighborhood. We used to
have this giant shaggy sheepdog named Sheba, and I hated having to walk her. It
wasn’t cool, you know?”

Gabe nodded, but didn’t interrupt, so Diane continued. “Mom
made me take Sheba for a walk. I wasn’t supposed to take her off our street,
because she was a little wild and hard to control sometimes. But Sheba and I
had wild and out of control in common and I was supposed to meet someone, so I
was on this busy street and not paying attention. Sheba yanked the leash out of
my hand a raced down the street. Uriah caught her…or maybe she caught him, I
don’t know. He was this big, gangly kid, flat on his back holding Sheba around
the waist. She was licking him and he was laughing like crazy.” She risked a
glance at Gabe and thought she caught a fleeting smile cross his face. It was a
good memory, one of her last happy ones before the dark days.

“The next week, his brother, Pete showed up at the high
school. Where Uriah was skinny and long, Pete was bulky, filled out. He was the
new kid, so all the girls wanted him.”

Gabe was watching her through narrowed eyes. When she didn’t
continue, he cleared his throat. “So, let me guess…you got the guy?”

“Not then. I didn’t want anything to do with him.” She blew
out another breath. She might as well tell him. Gabe was the type of man who
would wait it out of her. With another quick look in Uriah’s direction, Diane
took a deep breath before she continued.

“I didn’t want anything to do with anyone who couldn’t get
me my next fix. I didn’t care what it was either. Booze, pills, coke. Smack if
I could get it. I dropped out of school a few weeks after Pete enrolled. I left
home, lived on the streets…” She turned her face away. She didn’t want to see
the disappointment in Gabe’s eyes, the look on his face…the look respectable
people wore when they learned about her past.

Gabe spoke, his voice gentle. “That’s a tough life for a
sixteen year old. But you made it through. Look at you now. You’re not a
junkie, Dee.”

“No, I’m clean. Have been for four years. But it wasn’t easy
and I nearly died in the process. In a way, it was really Uriah who saved me.”
She swallowed hard, felt the flush run up her neck.

“I was twenty-two and going nowhere. My family had nothing
to do with me. It had been six years of hard living. I was usually stoned on
something, lived on couches or wherever I could crash. One night I was at a
party, but I was sick. Real sick, but no one cared. Not even me. I was
surprised as hell when Uriah walked in with a bunch of his friends. It was his
damn eighteenth birthday, and in a giant fit of rebellion, he’d ditched his
family and decided to come to one of the party houses by the U.

“He’d filled out since I’d last seen him, grown into all
that height. Taller than Pete and even broader across the chest. A good-looking
kid. Anyway, these two guys wanted me to go home with them. I was trashed, but
I’d ’a gone. That was what I did, you know?” This time she did meet Gabe’s gaze.
It was better to know his reaction, so she could guard her heart.

Gabe’s hazel eyes were steady, his expression one of polite
interest, as if this were a story about somebody else. “Go on, I’m listening,”
he said.

Diane nodded, but her heart rate sped up and there was a
nervous flutter in her stomach. This wasn’t a story she’d ever told outside of
her recovery group or to her therapist. There was a reason she didn’t like to
look at these memories. Then Uriah’s hand closed around hers, and he gave a
little squeeze. His reassuring grip gave her the encouragement she needed to go
on. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

“One of the guys pulled me by the arm. Like I said, I was
sick and I was trashed, so I stumbled a bit. Uriah must have seen, because he
came straight across the room and threatened to kick the guy’s ass if he laid a
hand on me. Before I could say a word, Uriah wrapped his arm around my shoulder
and steered me from the house. Took me to his car, put the seatbelt on me. I
don’t remember much about what he was saying, but I guess when he touched my
skin, he realized I had a fever. He got me to the hospital. To make a long
story short, they treated me for hepatitis B. The doctors convinced my family
to do an intervention and I ended up in rehab.

“Uriah visited me. Shit.” She could feel her face burning
with the shame of those memories. Now that she’d started telling the story, she
was determined Gabe would hear it all, know the worst. She rocked back and
forth, hugging her legs to her chest. “I had to finish detox and go to
counseling, but eventually they let me have visitors. Uriah was right there. No
one else. Not my family, not any of my junkie friends. Just Uriah.”

She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “At first, I tried
to seduce Uriah so he would get me out. Or bring me booze. Anything to quench
the thirst that was burning a hole in my brain.” She looked up at Gabe again
then risked a glance at Uriah. He lay next to her, still holding her hand, his
eyes closed. She continued.

“He was a kid and I would have given him any part of me just
to get my next fix.”

Uriah’s thumb rubbed against the back of her hand. He didn’t
let go but he didn’t look at her, either.

“And did he?” Gabe asked.

“No,” she whispered. “Thank God. He told me not to be
stupid.” Suddenly, Diane grinned. It was the first happy memory she had of that
dark time. “Those first weeks were awkward because I didn’t know what to say,
didn’t know what had been happening in the world. Uriah just talked about
anything and everything. Sports, his classes, mutual friends. Here he was,
eighteen years old, working, going to JC, and spending his free time helping me
put my life back together. Pretty soon, the feelings I’d faked at the beginning
started to feel real. I couldn’t trust them, you know? I was worried I was
making Uriah my next fix. I am an addict, after all.”

“Yeah, I think I get that. But Uriah wasn’t a kid. Not
technically.”

“No, not technically, but I began to fixate on my feelings
for him. I thought I was in love with Uriah. The counselor thought it was just
another form of dependence and suggested it might be better if Uriah didn’t
visit any more, but I didn’t want to be alone. So, I asked him to bring Pete
along.”

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Uriah still hadn’t spoken,
hadn’t changed the rhythm of that slow stroke of his thumb. “Pete and I got
along just fine. He started coming every day and Uriah quit coming. I told
myself it was for the best. Pete had a lot more shades of gray, could
understand better about things I’d done to get a fix. Pete wanted money and
power, and he was determined to get them. Anyway, fast-forward a bit. I latched
on to Pete and he to me. I moved in with him when I left rehab. Our families
were strangely happy with the match. Mine, because although I was sober, I’d
been an embarrassment for the past several years. It wasn’t something they
wanted to risk repeating. Pete’s dad had his own reasons. Eventually, we got
married because his daddy’s law firm liked their junior counselors settled.”

“Did you love him?” Gabe asked. For the first time, Diane
thought she heard a tightness in his voice that hadn’t been there earlier. When
she looked up, his face was in the shadows, his expression hard to read.

“No, and he didn't love me. But we fit well together. I got
my certification as a fitness trainer and he finished his law degree and passed
the bar. Life moved on.” She sighed. “You might as well know the rest. I knew
Pete was gay right from the start. His father suspected and that's why he
wanted us to get married. Having a gay son, even one who is a successful
lawyer, is unacceptable to the high and mighty Rueben Wadsworth. Even though
I’d been a junkie, I cleaned up well enough, and my family had the right status
to make him look good. Plus, Pete was getting restless, so having him marry me
was a way to control him.”

“Do you know why he killed himself?” Gabe asked, his voice
very quiet in the still, early morning hours before dawn.

“Shut up, Gabe,” Uriah growled. His eyes now open, gaze fixed
on the other man.

“No. Be still, Uriah, let Dee talk.” Gabe’s voice held a
touch of command, and she noticed Uriah backed down at once, his face set in
mutinous lines.

“It’s okay, Uriah. You need to hear this. I should have
already told you. Pete is dead is because of me. Pete was in the closet as far
as your dad was concerned, but it didn't bother him to know he was gay. He had
no internal conflict at all. Having a wife was a matter of professional
convenience. I think the only reason he didn’t tell you is because he didn’t
want to put you between him and your dad if it ever got out.

"The problem was with me. I couldn’t maintain the
charade anymore. Remember, I went through rehab. I needed to be able to live
with myself, with the decisions I made. We were each free to have our little
flings on the side, as long as we were discreet and word would never get back
to your dad. I had strong feelings for someone, someone I’d hurt in the past,
but I couldn’t even admit to that without blowing Pete’s cover wide open.

“I was scheduled for a two-day conference in Las Vegas. Pete
made some smart-assed remark about my getting laid there so I’d be less bitchy
when I returned. It pissed me off. I told him I was done covering for him, done
living a lie. I wanted a divorce. Three days later, Pete was dead.” She paused
for a long moment, closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “Your brother killed
himself because of me.”

When the heavy arm slipped around her back, Diane took the
comfort and leaned into the shoulder offered. She rested her head against the
big chest, and was touched when she felt the light press of lips on her hair.

Chapter Eight

Gabe wanted to bundle the two of them into his arms and
protect them from themselves. His anger pushed away his professional demeanor
and he lashed out at the now dead Pete Wadsworth. “The two of you have it wrong.
Suicide is the greatest magic act of all. Misdirection at its finest. You fuck
up and then think ‘Oh, gee. Let me kill myself and let everyone else clean up
the mess I made of my fucking life!’ Pete wasn’t the only person to ever feel
the blackness. Goddamn, I didn’t even know him, but I know you…and you
didn’t…couldn’t cause him—”

Breaking off his sudden rant, Gabe raked his hand through
his hair. “Sorry. Obviously, I have issues of my own.”

Uriah turned to face him for a long moment, clearly expecting
an explanation and willing to wait Gabe out. The moonlight cast shadows in the
sharp angles of his high cheekbones, chiseled nose, broad forehead. Gabe wanted
to thread his fingers into that thick black mane framing Uriah’s handsome face,
to kiss away the patient look in those big, dark eyes, to make Uriah as aware
of him as he was of the younger man. When his gaze settled on Diane, her
beautiful face was a mask of empathy, and he wanted to lay his head on her lap
and accept the comfort of her caress.

It seemed easier to talk than to fight against the
inevitable, and Gabe found himself sharing a story very few knew. He took a
deep breath and moved to sit on the edge of the sleeping bags.

“In the past, I had a typical big city medical practice.
Now, I prefer to only work part time. For a while, I thought I would quit
altogether. I probably would have if it hadn’t been for the intervention of one
of my best friends.” He sighed, scratched at his rough cheek and thought about
how to say what he needed to say.