Chapter 18
Eric
I grumble against Dmitri’s chest when the phone rings from the coffee table. We just started the movie, and for a second I seriously consider ignoring it. “Fuck me,” I groan, reaching for my phone anyway, because if I let it go to voicemail and it turns out to be an emergency, I’ll regret it later.
I glare at Dante’s name lighting up the screen. “This better be important,” I say in greeting, “because I haven’t watched the new Top Gun yet, and I already made popcorn.”
“Eric, I need you to get to the studio right now.”
His tone makes me sit up instantly. Dmitri frowns and scoots closer as I switch the call to speakerphone. “What’s going on at the studio?” I demand.
Dante hesitates. “Tai’s there. I got notifications from the security system when he disarmed it, and then camera alerts as he moved around the building. It’s not super unusual for him to be there, especially lately, but something feels wrong.”
“What do you mean, wrong?”
“I’m not sure exactly. The cameras don’t have sound. He was playing piano for a while, then stopped to make a couple of phone calls, and now he seems… off.”
“Off how?” I growl, already jumping up to find my shoes. Something has been off with Tai ever since he got back from that trip, and he won’t fucking tell me what it is.
“At first he paced a bit, and then he lost it. It was completely out of character for him, yelling and pulling at his hair. He ran into the kitchen, and I can’t be sure, but there might’ve been a knife in his hand—”
“Maybe fucking lead with that!” I shout, jamming my feet into my shoes and snatching the keys off the counter. My heart is pounding as I turn to Dmitri.
He nods and mouths, “Go.”
Dante is still rambling when I hang up and jump into the car, flying down the road at speeds that would earn me a nice fat ticket if I got pulled over.
The studio is fifteen minutes away, and I make it there in nine.
The door is unlocked, but an eerie silence greets me as I step inside the building.
Evidence of Tai’s presence is scattered around the room—his jacket hangs on the hook, his keys sit beside it, and a water bottle rests near his piano. A light is on in the kitchen, so I pop my head inside, but it’s empty.
That’s when I hear the sob.
Unease settles heavy in my gut as I make my way down the hall.
I stumble to a stop, trying to process the scene.
Piles of black string are strewn haphazardly across the floor, growing thicker as I approach the bathroom.
A knife glints from the doorframe, reflecting the light from inside and surrounded by even more of the mess.
Steeling my spine, I take a few cautious steps forward.
Nothing could prepare me for what I see.
Tai is on the floor, head buried between his knees and body shaking with sobs. I swallow hard as I take him in. His gorgeous, waist-length hair has been hacked off in jagged chunks. It lies in thick clumps on the floor, heaps of it tossed and discarded like some kind of sick confetti.
“Tai?” I rasp, racing over and collapsing beside him.
He crumbles instantly, dropping his head into my lap as raw, convulsing sobs jolt through his entire body. They escape in desperate wheezes, as though there’s no air left in his lungs to fuel them.
What the hell happened to him?
And how do I even begin to help? Where the fuck do I start?
My eyes burn, and the lump in my throat threatens to choke me as I wrap my arms around him. This… this I can do. The broken sounds of his gasping inhales make me feel completely powerless, so I squeeze him tighter, trying to offer any ounce of comfort I can.
Several minutes pass, and gradually he regains some control of himself. His breathing has slowed and his sobs have reduced to hiccups and sniffles, but I refuse to let him go.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he wraps his arms around my leg and hugs me back.
In all the years I’ve known him, Tai has never looked as fragile as he does in this moment.
He’s always felt infallible, like nothing could ever be strong enough to crack his cool exterior, much less bring him to his knees.
He’s steady. Stable.
And notoriously closed-off.
An air of mystery has always surrounded Tai, even with those who know him best. There was always something lying just beneath the surface, something I could never quite put my finger on. Dangerous, even—not explosive like a gun, but more insidious, like a poison.
And now, too late, I realize it has been slowly killing him.
Tai has secrets, we all know that. Even as his best friend, I’m sure I could fill an entire book with the things I don’t know about him.
“Yeah,” he says suddenly, startling me. His normally honey-smooth voice is thick and raspy, and he doesn’t lift his head from my lap or meet my eyes. “Yeah, I think… I think I need to talk to someone about this.”
With a shaky inhale, his chest rises and falls as the story finally slips out.
He shares the details of the trip he spent with this man—Connor.
I want to spit the name out of my mouth, but I don’t interrupt.
I let him speak, running my fingers through what remains of his hair as the words pour from him.
By the time he finishes, it’s hard for me to control the shaking in my hands. How could anyone in their fucking right mind do something like this to Tai of all people?
As I’m contemplating the best way to hunt this man down and beat him bloody, Tai sits up. The broken expression on his face drains the fury right out of my body, replacing it with a fierce determination to erase that look.
Tears slide down his red cheeks. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, and what’s left of his hair is a chaotic mess. “I really fucked up, Eric.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I argue.
“He was married,” he stresses. “I fucked a married man… I gave a piece of myself to a man who had nothing to give me.”
“Did you know he was married?”
Tai sighs, sounding more exhausted than I’ve ever heard him. “Yeah, but he said they were separated and that it had been years since they split up. He claimed the divorce was just held up on the legal side.”
“Then how were you supposed to know any different?” I ask gently.
He wipes his eyes and lets his head thunk back against the wall.
“Was I so desperate to be loved that I let him in that easily? I allowed him to make me believe it was… more.” Another quiet sob hiccups from his chest, more tears pooling in his eyes.
“I knew him, Eric. I did. And I let him know me… the real me, no hiding. No masks. How did I get it so fucking wrong?”
I sigh as I scan the mess scattered across the floor. “I don’t know. But you’ll survive this, brother… we’ll make sure of that. You’ve got help. You know that, right? You don’t have to tackle this alone.”
“Your wedding is in three days, man. You shouldn’t even be here with me.”
“Don’t do that,” I scold gently, standing and dusting my hands off on my jeans before reaching for him.
He stares at my offered hand for a moment before he takes it and lets me pull him to his feet.
“Don’t diminish your importance in my life just because other stuff is going on.
You are my best friend, Tai, and if I had to stop everything in the middle of the wedding because you needed me, I would. ”
He sniffles as he falls into my arms, hugging me tight. “Dmitri would kill me.”
“He’d get over it,” I say, rubbing my palms soothingly over his back.
“I have ways of being very convincing when I need to be.” A weak chuckle sneaks out of him.
I grip his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length so I can scan him from head to toe.
“Now, can I be honest? You kinda look like Chucky right now, and it’s creeping me out a little. ”
A weak, watery laugh escapes him when he sees the mess. “He loved my hair,” he whispers, and fuck if that doesn’t stoke my rage all over again.
“Come on, let’s get you looking pretty again.” I grab him by the arm and lead him past the destruction in the studio. I’ll come back later and clean it up. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Follow me home, and for the love of god, let me fix the mess on your head.”
His laugh is forced, but it’s better than nothing. He nods his agreement and follows me out the door.
“How’s that feel?”
Tai’s face is swollen and red as he glances in the mirror, running his fingers through what’s left of his hair. “It’s weird seeing it short. I’ve been growing it out for so many years that I couldn’t even remember what I looked like without it.”
There was enough length on top to keep some style, but the sides had to be buzzed low. “If you put bubbles in it, I bet it would stand up in a nice faux hawk.”
He gives me a small, tired smile in the mirror. I give his arm a gentle squeeze before packing up my clippers. “Take a shower. I’ll throw some clean clothes in here for you to wear, and if you need to stay, we have a spare bed.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t intrude like that,” he says, glancing at me and then at Dmitri beyond me, who leans against the kitchen island pretending he isn’t eavesdropping. “I will steal a shower, though.”
I nod and pull the door closed behind me, giving him some privacy. When I walk into the bedroom to gather clothes for him, Dmitri follows. Even though Dmitri’s jealousy flares around Tai, the heartbreak on his face was impossible to miss when Tai showed up.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah, he will. He’s tough.” My smallest sweats will drown him, but I grab a pair anyway along with a t-shirt.
I rap my knuckles on the bathroom door. Water is already running in the shower, so I pop my head inside.
“Hey, just dropping off something to wear. Don’t accidentally flash me your junk or anything. ”
“Stupid fucker,” he mutters with a laugh that sounds a little more genuine this time.
I leave the clothes on the counter and grab his dirty ones off the floor.
In the kitchen, I’m shoving them into a bag when his phone rings from inside his pants pocket.
I dig it out. An unsaved number flashes on the screen.
The call log shows Tai called this number an hour ago, right before I found him at the studio.
That barely suppressed rage resurfaces in an instant as I swipe to answer. “Hello?”
There’s a pause, then a man’s voice cracks as it says, “Tai?”
“No, this isn’t fucking Tai,” I spit, clutching the phone so hard my fingers hurt. “This is his best friend who’s currently picking up the pieces of his goddamned broken heart.”
“Broken heart?” he repeats.
The audacity of this fucker, pretending to be shocked by his own actions.
“Fuck,” he grunts, heaving a sigh so heavy it reaches through the phone. “Can I talk to him?”
“Can you talk to him?” I parrot, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’ve done enough damage, buddy.”
“You don’t—”
“He deserves so much better than this,” I snarl. “So much better.”
“Just—”
“Be glad we aren’t face to face, asshole, because you would regret hurting him. Don’t think I’d even hesitate to knock your lying ass to the ground. He is an incredible man, better than anyone I’ve ever met. Fuck you, Connor.”
“Will you please just let me—”
“No. You’ve lost your fucking chance. You don’t get to talk, and I’m sure as shit not going to listen. He is destroyed, dude. If you had seen how I found him… Fuck you. Don’t call again.”
Anger makes my whole body shake as I end the call.
The shower shuts off, leaving me to stare at the screen in silence.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure I’m not being watched, then make my decision.
I block the number and delete the incoming call from his history before shoving the phone back into his pocket.
He’s not in any shape to protect himself right now. Someone has to do it.
It’s for his own good.