19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
T ate paled. Shook his head. “Nothing, North. Leave it alone.”
“That man was at The Gran Teatro Geox in Italy. You said he was no one. He came back for you in Rome and that’s when I went after him with Connor.” A dull ache settled between North’s brows. “He didn’t just drop the charges, did he?”
“North—”
“You made a deal with him. He’s the reason you pushed everyone away. You’ve been…” The cravings. The weight Tate had lost. “He got you on drugs again.” Tears spilled down North’s cheeks. “And that’s not all he’s done to you, is it? You…goddamn it, Tate. He’s been fucking raping you.”
“No.” Tate frantically shook his head. “No, I…I want to be with him. It’s okay, North. It’s really okay. He supported me when I slipped up and he’s known me for a long time. I was ashamed of myself and I couldn’t face any of you. That’s all.”
“Yeah? Like you wanted him to grab you at the club? Right before you jumped out of a moving car and broke your fucking arm?” North trailed his fingers over the scars on Tate’s flesh, holding his gaze. “And your eye… Tate, you were terrified. You reacted on instinct because you wanted to get away from him.”
Again, Tate shook his head. He grabbed on to North’s shirt, fisting his hands, his whole body shaking. “That’s changed.”
“Has it?” North sat up, lifted Tate off him, then stood. “Cool. Because I’m going to see Oakley and ask for a press conference. What happened has been eating at me and I need to go public. I should probably talk to Connor first though. Maybe we can tell everyone what happened together and—”
As North started for the door, Tate rushed toward him, slamming him into the wall and wrapping his arms around him. He pressed his head into the center of North’s chest.
Whispered the same words over and over. “Don’t. Please don’t. Forget me. Just forget me.”
I am going to kill that fucker. Whatever I have to do, I’m gonna find him and break him apart like he’s broken Tate. Or…no, maybe I’ll make it fast. End it and bury him and find a way to help Tate heal. Make sure the bastard stays in the past where he belongs.
“I won’t forget you, Tate.” North raked his fingers through Tate’s hair. “Even if you’d managed to cut me so deep I couldn’t do anything but crawl away from you, you’d always own a part of my heart. The part I handed over without any fucking regret because loving you was the purest thing I’ve ever done. I’m not sure I can ever earn you loving me back, but you made me want to try.”
“I can’t… North, I can’t…” Tate’s legs gave out and North caught him, lifting him up in his arms and carrying him back to the bed.
He wasn’t sure what else to do, but Tate letting him hold him had to mean something. Even as wracking sobs shook the drummer, he clung to North. Curled up in his arms as tears soaked through North’s shirt.
For what seemed like hours North said nothing, simply stroking Tate’s back and whispering whatever soothing words he could think of. Telling Tate he didn’t have to face this alone anymore. Hoping he could make him believe the man would never get near him again.
But when he said the last, Tate went still and shook his head. “You don’t understand. North, I have to go back. And you have to let me.”
Like fuck. Not that North could say that. But he had to know more before he could decide what to do next, so he kissed Tate’s hair and spoke softly, saying just one word.
“Why?”
Easing out of his arm, Tate backed away from him, then rubbed his hands over his face. “He has the whole thing on video. Connor losing it and beating him. You standing there. You could both be charged, and even if you got good lawyers and fought it, he plans to make the video public. To make Connor look like a violent criminal.” Tate hugged his knees to his chest. “He’ll cut out the sound and no one will know what he said. I’ve seen it. Connor was out of control and no one will understand.”
“But I was there. I could tell everyone—”
“What? That you changed your mind about strangling the guy and decided way too late that Connor shouldn’t kill him?”
North cringed. All right, put that way, it likely wouldn’t play out too well in the public eye.
But he didn’t give a fuck. And neither would Connor.
“Tate, I love you, but you don’t get to make decisions like this for us. You don’t get to give up your whole fucking life to save us.” Before Tate could protest, North grabbed his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “I chose to go after that man. So did Connor. And we both would’ve served out our entire sentence willingly. Knowing what I do now, the only reason I would’ve hesitated is because it gave that fucker the power to hurt you.” Pressing his eyes shut, he remembered this wasn’t the first time the man had been able to do so. He breathed out through clenched teeth. “Again.”
“Ray set you up. Because of me.” Tate swallowed hard. “Fine, I made the decision for you. So fucking what? I do what I gotta do and you move on and—”
“Not. Gonna. Happen.” North’s lips slanted when Tate scowled at him. “I love you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Bullshit.” North hooked his fingers to Tate’s collar and tugged him close. “But sure, you’re doing this for Connor. He’s a good guy, he deserves the best people watching his back. And since I’m one of them, if I can’t convince you to fight for the relationship we could’ve had, how about you fight because losing you will tear him apart.”
Tate lowered his gaze. “He doesn’t have to know.”
“Really? So one day you overdose because you can’t deal with whatever that bastard’s been doing to you and Connor has to spend the rest of his life wondering why he didn’t see there was something wrong?” North shook his head. “Tate, you slipped up. It happens. That’s no reason to—”
“I didn’t.”
North waited. He wasn’t good at this shit, no one ever opened up to him, looking for comfort. At least…no one had before Tate. But he had a feeling Tate had been choking on this secret and he was more than ready to share it with someone.
What would happen after, North didn’t know. For now, all he could do was listen.
“He…when I went to see him at the hospital to beg him to drop the charges, he made me take some pills. I didn’t want to.” Tate irritably wiped away the tears that spilled. “After we had our agreement it was…just easier to do whatever he told me to. The second I said I didn’t want drugs and…stuff, he’d threaten you and Connor and…and there was no point. It didn’t take long before I was hooked again. Getting high made doing what I had to do tolerable. I knew it would never end.”
“You knew it would end, Tate. And how.”
Tate’s jaw twitched. “Yeah.”
“That’s why you wanted me to let you go.” North curved his hand under Tate’s jaw, finally able to breathe when Tate met his eyes. “I should’ve fought harder for you. I should’ve known—”
“That the guy you’d been fooling around with on the sly was being blackmailed?” Tate’s eyes widened at the last, as though saying the words out loud had reality hitting him for the first time. But then he shook his head and continued. “You not knowing was kinda the point.”
“Who is he, Tate? He told me and Connor he…he fucked you when you were fifteen.”
Rolling his eyes, Tate shook his head. “He didn’t. He got me addicted in the first place, but he was dating my sister and even though I liked the attention he was giving me, he was just playing me to get me to steal for him. That ended when I went to live with my grandmother.”
“But he found you again. How?”
Brow raised, Tate stared at him. Then held out his hand. “Tate Maddox, drummer for Winter’s Wrath, one of the most famous metal bands in North America. Nice to meet you.”
North chuckled and brushed Tate’s hand away. “That’s not what I mean. How did he find you at the club? Or in Italy?”
Lips parted, Tate went completely still. “I…I don’t know. I mean, fans have ways of finding us.”
“Not to that extent. Look up Metallica right now. Tell me where James Hetfield is.”
“If he goes out to a restaurant or something people will know.”
“Sure, but not some small town club. Not in time for people to travel across the country.” Holy fuck, could Ray getting so close to Tate and Annette’s stalker be connected? He had to talk to Vanessa. Dangerous people being able to find both bands, wherever they were, couldn’t be a coincidence. “We have to find out how this is happening. Ray found you. Annette’s stalker… Shit, didn’t Shiori’s stepfather find her?”
“North, you can’t tell anyone!” Tate shoved him back on the bed before he could slip away. “He has that video. If he finds out I’ve told anyone, he’ll release it.”
“Let him.”
“And how does that help anyone? He doesn’t have me now. We have to…we can’t just…” Tate let out a frustrated sound. “Whatever you think of me, I’m not an idiot. Connor was able to get married. He’s so fucking happy. Don’t ruin that for him.”
“You have to tell him.”
“Tell him that I’m back on drugs and whoring myself out to keep a video of him trying to beat a guy to death from leaking?”
“Speaking as an ex-hooker, there are much worse things you could do.” North’s lips thinned at Tate’s stubborn look. “Secret’s out. You’re not going back to that. And by the way, I got you those cookies.”
Smooth. Real smooth.
He wasn’t sure why he’d mentioned the damn cookies, but talking about being a hooker had him wanting to change the subject. And he needed Tate thinking about himself. About getting healthier. Stronger.
Which…apparently meant cookies.
I’m really bad at this.
Thankfully, Tate only gave him a blank look for a few seconds before he burst out laughing. “Random, but…thank you. They really are helping. Sometimes the craving’s get so bad it’s hard to eat, but I think it’s getting better.” He shook his head with a smile. “I should’ve guessed it when I saw the Dunkaroos. You’re the only one who never teased me about liking those. They’re cookies for little kids.”
North snickered and nudged Tate’s shoulder. “There’s no such thing. And you’re welcome.”
The movie had ended and the credits were rolling, but North hardly noticed as Tate settled against him and closed his eyes. His face was pale, and the now dark, metallic blue of his hair, along with the closer shave just below his temple and above his nape, made the shadows under his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks stand out even more. This conversation had drained him, but North didn’t regret pushing.
Even though he hated what he’d learned.
Fuck, he’d have given anything to be wrong, but more than that, guilt was tearing into him when he thought of how badly Tate had suffered because North had been too lost in his own self-pity to dig just a little deeper. He pressed his lips to Tate’s hair and bit back the urge to sigh, keeping as still as possible, not sure if Tate’s even breaths meant he was sleeping.
But it wasn’t too long before Tate lifted his head, his expression grave. “You never agreed not to tell anyone.”
North nodded slowly. “No, I didn’t.”
“You have to promise me, North. We can…we can have this”—he brought his hand up to North’s chest—“if you promise.”
Lips parting, North almost told Tate he was using his abusers tactics, but that would be cruel. And he probably didn’t realize he was doing it. Either way, North refused to lie to him.
“I can’t promise you that, Tate. Vanessa and Ballz need to know Ray might have found you the same way Shiori’s father found her. The same way the stalker found Annette. If there’s a connection—”
“You can bring it up without telling them everything.”
“And leave you to deal with him on your own?” North let out an empty laugh. “Not happening, drummer boy.”
Tate’s expression hardened. Then changed abruptly. He moved so he was fully straddling North and leaned in to brush a kiss over his lips. “Will you let me give you a reason to sleep on it? We can talk in the morning. Right now…”
“Tate…” North put his hands on Tate’s shoulders, but as Tate’s lips slipped to his throat, he found himself drawing him in closer, rather than pushing him away like he should. He let out a soft groan. “Fuck, you don’t play fair.”
With an amused sound, Tate tugged up his shirt, smirking when North lifted his arms and let him pull it off. “Why should I? You never did.”
Not really a just comparison—North tempting Tate to sneak away with him when the drummer was still afraid of getting caught by his band—but if that was how Tate had to compartmentalize things, North wouldn’t question it. Tate’s touch brought him back to when things were so fucking simple, he hadn’t even realized how lucky he was. He wish he’d known, because he wouldn’t have let a single opportunity pass. He wouldn’t have…
He wouldn’t have done anything different. Their time together had been exciting and precious and exactly he’d needed then. Exactly what Tate had needed too. He kept trying to find that one moment where he’d made a mistake and there wasn’t one—well, other than going after Ray in the first place, but his only regret there was that he hadn’t killed the fucker.
There had to have been some way he could’ve gotten past Connor.
Yeah, in your dreams.
Either way, he couldn’t go back. And he had no idea what would happen going forward. It might involve tying Tate to some immovable object to prevent him from a life of eternal martyrdom, but he didn’t have to decide that tonight. They still had time.
As Tate’s lips traveled over his bare chest, he did his best to remember why he should be stopping him. He didn’t mind when Tate undid his jeans, his dick ached in the tight confines and Tate’s hand on him was the perfect relief after months of…
Months.
Tate had been with that man for months.
He’d done things just like this to protect North and Connor.
Grabbing Tate’s shoulders, North set him back gently and said the hardest word he’d ever had to say to anyone in his life.
“No.”