Chapter 2 #3
“Addict is too strong a word,” Hayes said with a slight frown. “He didn’t gamble away his home or anything—but he didn’t leave much behind either.”
“Is that the uncle who raised you?”
Hayes looked at Franklin strangely, and Beckett didn’t blame him. He couldn’t remember ever telling Franklin about Hayes’ uncle, or about the deaths of Hayes’ parents when he was just a child.
“Yes,” he admitted, without offering any details.
Franklin hummed thoughtfully for a moment.
“Probably wasn’t all that reassuring. Having a gambler as your guardian.
Like living perpetually on the edge.” While closely observing Hayes, Franklin had a certain look in his eyes that Beckett had always despised.
The one that said he’d already figured out something that you hadn’t.
“What are you getting at?” Beckett asked with a tired sigh.
It had been a long day and its perpetual roller coaster of emotions had taken its toll.
He hated dealing with emotional shit, which had always been far more stressful than physical exertion ever was.
He didn’t know how doctors and social workers handled this stuff all day long. He’d have gone out of his damned mind.
“Getting at?” Franklin asked, one eyebrow raised, a patently false mask of confusion pasted on his too-handsome face.
The arrogant little bastard didn’t have Beckett fooled for two seconds.
“You’re going somewhere with this. I can see you practically pissing yourself with anticipation—just spit it out before you choke on it,” Beckett demanded coldly.
Franklin’s expression smoothly transitioned to a polite smile, clearly striving to project innocence.
Beckett knew he was anything but innocent.
“I was just showing interest in your life partner,” he replied in an obvious attempt to make Beckett look like a paranoid asshole. “Guess I’ve just been trying to understand how your relationship works—what a man like Hayes needed from a man like you.”
Now—maybe Beckett was a paranoid asshole, but his brother’s condescending tone was not a figment of his imagination.
Like you. He might as well have just said it straight up. A nutcase. A degenerate. A no-good waste of space. But before Beckett gave into the hot surge of anger demanding that he jump across the table to strangle Franklin, which he was clearly begging for, Franklin resumed his critique.
“You’re chaotic and unpredictable, but loyal and dedicated. I guess from Hayes’ perspective, since he learned early on not to ever count on anyone but himself—you’re two steps in the right direction,” he mused with a slight smile.
What the actual hell had Beckett ever done to Franklin to deserve this?
“You ready to go, Franklin?” Maggie asked as she walked back into the room. She stopped abruptly, taking in Beckett’s flushed face and angry gaze that was locked onto Franklin. She glanced between them and frowned.
“Everything okayyy?” she asked. When neither one of them replied, she turned to Hayes with an expectant look.
“Absolutely,” Hayes said with a nod and a pleased smile. “Franklin was just telling us how perfect we are for each other.” Hayes’ confident, borderline sappy, response made Beckett’s anger vanish.
Maybe Franklin was right. Maybe Hayes put up with—no, loved him—because he’d only known conditional love before, and had nothing healthy or sane to measure it against. Okay.
Then so be it. Let their relationship be a perfect clusterfuck, especially since they weren’t exactly vying for couple of the year anyway.
Franklin chuckled, his twisted smile suddenly transforming to one of genuine amusement.
“Exactly!” Beckett confirmed as he stood up and offered Hayes his hand.
“Pleasure seeing you again,” Franklin told Hayes, and for once the posh bastard actually sounded sincere.
Hayes shook his hand and returned his smile.
“Until next time,” Hayes said cordially.
Franklin didn’t bother offering Beckett a hand—or God forbid—a hug. He settled for a quick nod in his direction and then winked mischievously.
“See you soon, Cazoo,” Franklin said.
It had been years since Beckett had been called that, and he fought hard not to react. Maggie, on the other hand, didn’t pretend to miss hearing it. She grabbed Franklin’s arm.
“You shopping for a black eye?” she asked Franklin before turning to smile at Beckett and Hayes. “See you boys soon, alright? Raphael wants to meet his new uncle,” she added, with a wink.
Beckett blew her a kiss in return. He slipped his arm around Hayes’ waist as they watched Franklin and Maggie walk out the front door.
“Cazoo?” Hayes asked as soon as the door closed.
“I couldn’t pronounce the word crazy as a kid—had problems with the letter R. Came out as k-ay-zy—which turned into Cazoo since I was always doing crazy shit,” he murmured softly, as if lost in thought.
Hayes chuckled and took a deep breath. He wrapped an arm around Beckett’s shoulders and gently pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Come on, then, Cazoo—time for bed.”
And Beckett let himself be pulled along without a single complaint.