Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
FALLON
He slept until he heard the front door open and the creak of Elodie’s walker. There were tiny feet slapping on the floor the moment Fallon opened his eyes, and then he was met with an armful of his baby sister.
“Flallon!”
He held her tightly against his chest and looked over her shoulder at Frankie, who was staring at him carefully.
His face was full of so much caution, Fallon felt his guilt grow big and heavy.
He kissed Elodie on the side of the head as she settled back away from him, her big eyes blinking behind her glasses.
“You comed to eat chiten nuggets?”
“Um.” He glanced at the table, where Lucas had left the sandwich. It was too hard and crusty to have now, but he’d eat another. “Maybe something else.”
“We’re not having nuggets,” Lucas said as he appeared in the room. He walked with a hand out, and Frankie tugged him close, giving him a long but chaste kiss. “We’re having spaghetti.”
“I don’t like it,” Elodie said.
“That’s a lie,” Frankie reminded her. “Now, go put your backpack away, and you can sit with Fallon in a bit.”
Lucas took her hand and helped her keep her balance as she made her way back toward the bedroom.
The silence was heavy now—thick and oppressive. Frankie was staring at him, and Fallon knew his brother could tell something was up.
“Did Lucas tell you?”
“That you were here and you had something to tell me?” He walked over and dropped down. “Yeah, he did. And I’m kind of losing it here, man. I’ve come up with about seventeen different scenarios. Several of them involve you being diagnosed with something terminal, so…”
“I’m not terminal. I’m pregnant.”
The silence was heavy. Intense. Pointed. Frankie wasn’t looking at him at all. His gaze was fixed on a spot to Fallon’s left, but he was pretty sure his brother wasn’t actually seeing anything. His breathing was shallow, cheeks pallid.
Yeah. He was in shock.
Or panicking.
Probably both.
Part of him wanted to beg his brother to say something.
To tell Fallon that it was okay and it would always be okay and that he wasn’t some kind of freak or mistake.
But he couldn’t make the words come. He couldn’t even move his arms and reach for him.
He wanted to, but if Frankie pulled away—even for a second—it would crush him.
So he just…waited.
“I kind of want to ask why the fuck you’d drop that on me that way, but I don’t think there was an easier way to say it, was there?”
Fallon took in a shaking breath, then shrugged. “No. Not really. I went over it in my head about three thousand times.”
“I’m sure you did, bud.” Frankie’s gaze finally found his face. It searched that, then dipped lower. Fallon knew what he was looking for. The evidence of the baby. He’d see it as soon as Fallon stood up. “Who?”
Fallon braced himself for this one too. “Charlie.”
Frankie made a soft noise, then cleared his throat. “How long?”
“How long…?”
“How many weeks or months or whatever?” He gestured to Fallon’s middle, clearly unsure how to ask and what words to use.
“Five months. And…a half. I think.” It had been just about two months since Gage found out. Eight long weeks of having that little bubble to himself.
“Shit. You’re more than halfway—okay. Okay.” Frankie covered his face with both hands. “Did you just find out?”
“No. I’ve known for a while. I…I got sick. Really sick. I looked up the symptoms, and they were pretty obvious.”
“And you’ve seen a doctor—”
“No.”
Frankie looked pissed about that one.
“I needed to find one that could treat me. You know. Me.” He tried to emphasize the word so Frankie would get it, and after a second, it was clear he did.
“You found one?”
“Gage helped.”
Frankie bit the inside of his cheek, then leaned back on the couch. “Lucas!”
He appeared in the entrance to the hallway a moment later. “I didn’t knock him up. Don’t fucking yell my name like that at me.”
Frankie softened, but not much. “You know about this?”
Lucas pretended to check the braille watch he wasn’t wearing. “For about four hours. Since I texted you.”
“Gage knows.”
“Yep. I’m gonna yell at him about it later,” Lucas said. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Love you.” Frankie waited until he was gone again, then turned back to Fallon. “Did you decide what you wanted to do?”
“Yes. I’m going to have the baby.” He shoved his thumb into his mouth and bit down on the nail. It was too short, so it hurt, but the pain kept him distracted because he’d also made another decision he hadn’t shared with anyone.
Frankie let out a puff of air. “Got it. Does fuck face know?”
Fallon rolled his eyes at the name, even if it fit. “No.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know.” It was the only answer he had still.
He didn’t know. He was pretty sure Charlie would do anything and everything to ensure he used the child to hurt Fallon.
And there was no telling what else he was capable of.
He knew damn well that punching Lucas and stalking Fallon at work were just a drop in the barrel. “Do you think this is a mistake?”
“I think this is one of the consequences of having sex when your body is capable of procreating,” Frankie said, slow and deliberate.
“I think that sleeping with Charlie after everything was a bad choice, but everyone makes bad choices.” He added that last bit before Fallon could start feeling guilty again.
“I think you’ll have to have a very uncomfortable conversation with your child when they’re old enough to understand things about their other parent. ”
Fallon bowed his head. “Do you think they’ll hate me for it?”
“Do you hate Dad or Mom?” Frankie asked. “Even though they had no business having kids?”
Fallon’s eyes went wide. “I…no. Not really. I don’t actually think about them.”
“Do you hate me or resent me for my part in, you know, everything that happened when we were young?”
Fallon swallowed heavily. He hated that his brother could think that. Even as a hypothetical. “No.”
“Then I think if your child has enough love—and they will. Fucking trust me, they will—they won’t resent you. As long as you’re honest.”
“Well. I’m good at being honest,” he said simply.
Frankie stared, then burst into laughter. “Jesus fucking Christ. You know, I really did come up with like seventeen scenarios about what you needed to tell me. Aliens were on the list, bud. And monsters. But not this.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. God, please don’t—can I hug you really quick? I think if I don’t get to hug you, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
Fallon fell into his brother’s arms, feeling small again. Young again. Afraid but comforted and definitely safe, because Frankie would never let anything hurt him so long as he could help it. He tried to protect Fallon from everything—including himself.
And he loved him.
“Are you okay with being an uncle?” he asked when he pulled away just far enough to rest his cheek on the back of the couch cushion.
“And let someone else be the dad?” He snorted and knocked his temple against the top of Fallon’s head. “You have no idea, bud.”
“You’ll be a good one,” Fallon told him.
Frankie hummed softly. “Thanks. I’m gonna try. And if you need anything from me—”
“I actually think I’ve got this,” Fallon told him. He pulled back because he needed to see his brother’s face. He needed to see if he believed him.
Frankie smiled down at him, his eyes soft. “I know you do. But I’m still here.”
“Thanks,” Fallon said. And for that moment, it all felt okay.
He was napping when Gage got back. He was in his apartment, and he heard the lock turn. He didn’t bother moving because only one person had a key. The most he did was roll over and make space for Gage, who pulled back the heavy blankets and slid in, letting Fallon spoon him.
“Hi,” Fallon said, voice thick with sleep. He wrapped an arm around Gage, who nestled backward.
“How’d it go with your brother?”
“Lucas told you?”
Gage laughed sleepily. “Yeah.”
“It went fine. Better than fine. I wish I’d said something earlier.”
There was a long pause, and then Gage turned in Fallon’s arms, hooking a leg up over his hip. It put them very, very close together in a spot that Fallon had been wanting touched for weeks now. As things progressed, his body was on edge, and this wasn’t doing him any favors.
But he also wasn’t about to ask for anything.
“You said things when you needed to,” Gage told him. His breath was warm and very minty, and he smelled fresh from the station shower. “Was Frankie upset at being left out?”
“Shocked more than angry,” Fallon said. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to lean in for a kiss. But it was getting harder, the more Gage got comfortable with him. The more they were intimate. He licked his lips and rocked his hips gently. He wanted to stop himself, but he couldn’t.
Gage grunted, then froze. “Fallon…”
“Shit. Sorry. Sorry.” He was awake now and humiliated. He tried to pull back, but Gage quickly pinned him down with a firm hand on his hip.
“Stop. Just…just wait.”
Fallon’s entire face felt like it was going to catch on fire. “I didn’t mean to…I’ve just been so…”
“So what?”
Fallon swallowed thickly. “Horny. You’re so hot, and so sweet, and I like you. And my body’s so needy. And I can totally take care of it myself, okay? I can. And then I can be here for you.”
“I don’t want you to go take care of it.”
Fallon’s blush deepened. Fuck, he was being shameless, wasn’t he? Fucking wanton. “I don’t mean to be like this.”
“I like you like this. Shit.” Gage’s hand pressed down harder, and he pushed his hips into Fallon, proving to him that he wasn’t lying.
He was hard, and Fallon had no idea what to think.
“I read about it. How it works sometimes, this far along. I know it’s a lot,” he said, his voice going softer. “I’d like to help make you feel good.”
“Why?” Fallon’s voice was ragged and unsure.