Horrific Propositions #3
“Well, one, people are going to keep getting hurt if we don’t do anything. And two, if anyone has the power to do something, it’s Tristan and me. We can fix this. We can make sure he never hurts anyone else, and we can make him pay for the harm he’s already caused.
“And you’ll be able to breathe, Qiang. No more ghosts; we’ll chase them all out,” I tell them, running my hands through their hair and slowly pushing it behind their ears.
“I don’t like it,” I hear their words tangled in a heavy sigh that forces its way out of them before their body slumps exhaustedly back into mine.
They burrow their cheek into my chestbone, and I reach my arms around their waist and just hold them. I open my mouth to reassure them, but I hear the front door open and know that there are more important matters to attend to at the moment.
I pull Qiang in a bit deeper, trying to transmit however much strength I have into them, because I know they’re going to have to have this conversation all over again.
“What’s going on?”
Qiang must not have heard them come in because they startle at the sound of Qi’s voice. Qiang lifts their head, and I hear a sharp intake of breath when Qi sees Qiang’s face, full of tear tracks and makeup streaks.
“Qiang?” he calls uncertainly, worry etched in his tone.
“I take it this was the family emergency?” Tristan asks, and I’m not surprised that Coach said something to him when I didn’t show up for practice.
That isn’t something I ever do, and on the exceedingly rare occasions I have done so, Tristan has always known about it in advance.
I nod towards Tristan before looking back at Qiang. I reach up and caress their cheek, pulling their attention to me.
“Are you ready to tell him?”
Qiang’s eyes drift unseeing for a moment before they slowly nod.
“Yeah, I think so,” they say quietly, their eyes snapping to mine, and determination replacing the fear and pain that’s been there since earlier.
“Are you gonna be okay?” I verify because I think they should have this talk with Qi alone, but I also don’t want to assume they’re ready for that, which is a bit ridiculous, since they just did.
But then again, while their bond with Qi is deeper than their bond with me, I also wasn’t on Sterling Adair’s wishlist.
Qiang sits back on their heels and squeezes my hand before climbing off of me shakily, but determinedly.
“Yeah, I got this.”
“Okay, I’m gonna tell Tristan,” I let them know.
I already insinuated earlier that I was going to, but I also need them to be on the same page as me here.
Qiang grimaces for a moment, looking between my resolute face and their confused ones.
“Marcus, please be careful.”
I stand up and wrap my arm around Qiang, leading them towards Tristan and Qi.
“I promise, we know what we’re doing,” I assure them, as I place their hand in Qi’s.
Qiang searches my eyes for another moment. Hesitation laced in their features, but I know what they’re seeing staring back at them; determination, resolution, and so much goddamned conviction.
They let out a shaky sigh before tugging on Qi’s hand. Qi goes willingly, without even being asked, as if he already knows that Qiang needs him.
It’s a fair assessment. Qi has been the pinnacle of good things for Qiang. The one bright light they could always count on and lean on. Even when they were at odds, they were still steady for each other.
Once I hear the door snick shut, I turn towards Tristan.
“Not to be weird, bro, but I could use a hug.”
Tristan’s eyes widen for a moment before he lets out a small laugh.
“Can honestly say I didn’t see that coming,” he says, reaching his arms up for a hug.
It’s not like we’ve never hugged before; it’s just something we do more casually. I think the only other time I’ve ever looked him or Darryl in the eyes before and expressly said I needed a hug was when my uncle died.
But all that shit with Qiang was deep, and it hurt. It hurts knowing the world is like this, and it hurts that Qiang’s hurting, and I hate it so much.
I squeeze Tristan’s shoulder before stepping back out of the hug.
“You better?” he asks, peering at me curiously.
I shake my head. “No, not really.”
“Maybe you ought to schedule another session with your therapist, just to get some of this off your chest,” he suggests mildly.
No trace of judgment, just concern. So ardently Tristan-like that his predictability is comforting in itself.
“Definitely will do that after we talk.”
Tristan nods with approval clear in his eyes.
“I know where Cade needs to look,” I tell him, changing the subject to the more urgent task at hand.
Tristan frowns. “That sounds ominous.”
I look at Tristan, knowing I’m about to ruin his whole fucking day.
Not only because Qi was on that man’s radar, but because of why Qi was on that man’s radar.
It’s one thing to know people find your adult partner attractive; it’s something else entirely to learn that old men were ogling your partner when they were still a teenager.
“You’re gonna need to sit down for this; you are not gonna like what I’ve got to say.”
His frown grows wary as he moves to the kitchen island, and I follow him to fill him in on everything I’d learned.