SafetyInNumbers-Final (7 page)

“I don’t know what happened to you, Owen.” Saul was back to using that low, soothing tone. “But I’d really like to help.”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.” It was easier to pretend Saul was talking about the immediate issue and not the overall issue. “I went down to the gym to work off the excess energy and it got away from me.”

“It got away from you?” Saul frowned as he tried to understand line of bullshit. It shouldn’t have made sense, but he knew not to underestimate Saul’s powers of perception. “You mean you were so angry, so pumped with adrenaline, that you pounded your fists raw on the bag. Right?”

“Something like that.” What could he say? That he was imagining pummeling the faces of his tormentors and couldn’t stop? That he hated himself more and more each day? What would that make him?

“Next time, put a picture of your target on the bag. Bloody the picture so you can see it. That visual will help with your nightmares.” Saul’s suggestion, which fell in line with his own thoughts, had him reeling.

“That’s just wrong.” Owen glanced around for help, but none of them seemed to be paying the least bit of attention. As if they thought for a second they could get away with such a deception. Owen was sure they all believed that Saul’s suggestion was spot on, but he couldn’t see how that was going to make it better. He didn’t want to imagine hitting anyone and didn’t want to spend his nights working himself into exhaustion just to get the nightmares to stop. 

“Why’s it wrong?” Saul looked truly confused by his question. “We’ve all kicked a few deserving asses in our day…”

“...and killed a few deserving assholes...” Billy added without prompting and Saul offered his fist for a commiserative bump.

“...so, we totally understand feeling a little bloodthirsty.” Owen looked back and forth between the two men and wondered at his choice of friends. They talked about it like it was nothing, but it wasn’t nothing. Not to him.

“Maybe he needs a sparring partner, someone he can really grapple with.” Billy pulled up a chair and completely interjected himself into the unwanted conversation. “Someone who can take a punch and get back up.”

“I’m thinking about punching you right now and hoping you won’t get back up,” Owen warned. “Look, I get that you’re all badass motherfuckers, but I’m not...what’d you call it? Bloodthirsty.”

“Okay. Then tell me what had you pounding your knuckles to the bone,” Saul encouraged. “When I’m so angry that I need to hit something hard enough to hurt, there’s a reason. You might not like the word bloodthirsty, you may not want to imagine hitting someone, but I don’t believe you simply wanted to hurt yourself.”

Yes, he did want to hurt himself, but did that make him bloodthirsty? Yeah, he’d been angry and pumped with adrenaline just like Saul said, but expending it hadn’t made him feel better. It just made him feel sick. He wasn’t a fighter like Saul and Billy, and he didn’t want to be. He just wanted to build things and fall in love, and be happy and safe.

“I’m not like you.” He looked at Billy and felt like he was betraying the man. If it wasn’t for Billy, he’d be dead, but what he’d done to survive didn’t make them the same. “You taught me how to fight because they would have killed me otherwise, and I’m grateful. And I did it because I didn’t want to die, but it didn’t make me feel better. It made me sick so deep inside that I can’t get it out and it feels like it’s eating me alive.” He looked over at Saul, desperate to make them understand. “Don’t you get it? I don’t just see their faces when I hit the bag, I see my own.”

He was so angry at them for making him admit that, he was shaking. Everything seemed to stop around him and he could feel the weight of their concern pressing in on him until he thought he might scream. Owen didn’t want their pep talks or their pity, and he was seriously rethinking their friendship. He wasn’t like them and didn’t belong in their kill-first-ask-questions-later club.

“Owen.” A strong hand settled on his shoulder and a voice he’d once despaired he’d never hear broke through the silence. “Look at me.”

Where he’d fought against every attempt Saul and the others made, his need for Chris’s help made him comply instantly. The atmosphere in the room had immediately gone from concern to surprise, but he couldn’t look away. Not when Chris had eyes only for him. “I was waiting for you.”

“Yeah? I like the idea of you waiting for me.” Chris’s hand slid up until he was cupping Owen’s jaw. It was so much more soothing than any of Saul’s gentle tones and he melted into it, letting it ground him. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Owen knew exactly how that sounded, but he didn’t care. He’d give himself up completely if Chris would take him.

“That’s good, baby.” It felt like praise, warming him everywhere, and he beamed up at Chris. Owen didn’t know how long they looked at each other in silence while the others gaped at them in shock, but finally Chris looked around the room until his gaze landed on Saul. “I get that you’re trying to help, but there’ll be no more of these conversations unless I’m present.”

Owen closed his eyes and turned his head to press a soft kiss to Chris’s palm. With one sentence, Chris had staked a claim and declared to the whole house that Owen was under his protection. It was everything he’d begun to believe would never happen and more.

“I also get that you have questions and I’ll do my best to answer them.” Chris nudged him up as he spoke. “But right now I’m going to take Owen upstairs so I can look at his hands. How long until dinner?”

There was a beat or two of silence before Javier squeaked out, “Like fifteen minutes.”

Chris wrapped an arm around Owen’s shoulders and guided him toward the archway. “Okay, we’ll be back.”

Owen had the sudden urge to look back to see all their shocked faces, but he didn’t. Chris was leading and he was definitely ready to follow. As they made their way to the stairs, there wasn’t a single sound from the kitchen. Chris had knocked them all flat on their asses with just a few succinct words. They’d recover and yeah, there’d be a lot of questions, but just for a second, he enjoyed the sound of silence.

Completely unaware of the devastation awaiting him on the first floor, Kyle bounded happily down the stairs as they were going up. “Hey Chris, how’s it hanging?”

Chris winked down at him before matching Kyle’s welcoming smile. “Right now, a little to the left. Thanks for asking.”

Thankfully, Kyle was on the bottom step and didn’t have too far to fall.

Chapter 7

Liam

True to his word, Chris had come back with a happy if subdued Owen in tow and answered all their questions. Sort of. He didn’t clam up, but if he didn’t like the question, he flat out said he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Oddly enough, no one really asked any hard-hitting questions. Like why he’d quit talking in the first place? Or why he decided to break his silence now? Not that anyone with half a functioning brain cell couldn’t figure that one out on their own.

Owen. Chris has broken his silence for Owen. It was exactly what Liam expected to happen and now he was surprised by how angry that made him. Angry and jealous. He didn’t want to feel either emotion toward Owen, but it got progressively worse every second he had to sit in that kitchen and listen to his brother talk to everyone except him. That part was his fault. Chris kept looking at him, his eyes full of worry, but Liam was afraid of what would come out if he opened his mouth. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

The table had been barely cleaned off when he made a break for it, leaving Chris, Billy, and Owen staring after him in concern. Someone, Billy probably, knocked on his door a few minutes later and he ignored it. Another knock came a little while after that, but was more timid, and he knew that was Owen. The last thing he wanted was for Owen to apologize for something he didn’t do. This shit was between him and Chris, and he’d wait however long it took for his brother to find the time to hash it out with him.

Chris let him stew for forty-five minutes before he threw the door open, gave him a disappointed glare, and jerked his head. “Come on.”

For all of five seconds, Liam glared back and refused to budge. Chris waited him out and didn’t gloat when he jumped off the bed to follow him into the hall. The house was strangely quiet as they made their way to the first floor and out the back door toward the garage. “Where are we going?”

Chris looked at him across the hood and frowned. “Someplace where no one will get between us.”

Liam wasn’t sure who Chris expected to try, but he definitely didn’t want to be interrupted. Chris pulled out of the driveway and headed north, not that Liam cared where they were going. There was so much boiling between them but, as the truck ate up the miles, they held their silence. Was he supposed to start and, if so, with what? He had so much he needed to know, so much he was afraid to know.

Finally, Chris pulled into the parking lot of Alaric’s warehouse and parked next to Davin’s Jeep. The two men were leaning against the hood watching them curiously. Since Liam didn’t know what Chris had planned, he kept his mouth shut and let his brother do all the talking.

“Thanks for bringing the keys,” Chris said as he came around the hood.

“No problem. It’s already unlocked and the alarm is off. I sent the instructions to reset it to your phone.” Alaric handed the keys over and gave them both another long, considering look. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Weird, huh?” Chris shrugged sheepishly and looked back at him for help. Fuck that, he was done being his brother’s mouthpiece.

“That, too,” Alaric agreed. “All right, we’ll let you two get on with whatever it is you’re doing here. Just drop the keys off over the weekend.”

Chris nodded and they watched until the Jeep was out of sight before walking into the cavernous space. He looked around, surprised to find it completely empty. Who kept an empty warehouse? “What’d you tell him?”

“Ric? Just that you needed a place to yell at me.” Chris glanced at him as he flipped the lock on the door. Liam just shrugged and walked further into the building. It was entirely possible he was going to yell, scream, hit, kick and even that might not be enough.

“Before we get to the festivities, I guess I should say I’m really glad you found your voice.” Underneath the anger and jealousy, he was really happy for Chris. He was sure of it.

Chris’s laughter echoed off the rafters. “It’s your fault, so you damn well better be glad.”

“Bullshit!” Liam whirled and pushed Chris back a few steps. “Bull-fucking-shit! This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Owen.”

“Now who’s spouting bullshit? It’s not you or Owen or even me, it’s all of us! You said we couldn’t go on the way we were and you were right.”

That had Liam backing up a few steps of his own. He had said those words to Chris just that morning, but they hadn’t been the first time he used them. “Why this time?”

Chris looked at him sadly and said, “Because it wasn’t helping anymore.”

“What? Your silence? You think your silence was helping me?” Liam couldn’t believe what he was hearing “Do you know how much I needed you these last few years? Just one word, one…”

“One what? I was there every second of every day with you, giving you everything you needed. You don’t need me to tell you that you’re my brother and I love you, and that I would do anything...
anything
...to protect you.” Chris spun away, his fists clenched tight. “You know everything I’m thinking and feeling, and articulate it better than I ever could. So don’t stand there and tell me you needed my voice for what you always knew in your heart and in your head.”

Liam felt like a dick. Even though he didn’t know how it worked, he couldn’t deny that he always knew exactly what his brother was thinking or feeling. Nor could he deny that Chris had stood strong for him, kept him from falling apart, and always gave him what he needed. Their connection went far beyond words and having Chris use them to remind him of that deflated all his anger instantly.

He looked around again and then back at his brother. They didn’t need to come all the way out here for Chris to remind him what they were to each other. “What the hell are we really doing here, Chris?”

Chris turned slowly and the sadness in his expression twisted something deep inside Liam. “You have questions and I promised to answer them.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it because he didn’t want to cause Chris more pain, but beneath the sadness was that firm resolve he’d come to expect from his brother. It really didn’t matter what catalyst prompted those first words. Chris wasn’t going to let the day end without settling this between them.

Liam paced away and tried to get his thoughts in order. He meant it when he said they couldn’t go on like this, but were they able to deal with the truth? Would it help them move forward? What would happen if it didn’t?

“I know you’re afraid of the answers. Trust me, I know, because I’m terrified to tell you,” Chris whispered. “I didn’t understand why you didn’t hate me. Then it hit me that you didn’t hate me because you didn’t know why. I kept waiting for you to ask, but you never did. That’s when I knew you were as terrified of the answer as I was, and I kept my silence because I didn’t want us to lose each other. We’d already lost everything else. Bros stick together no matter what, remember?”