Chapter 17
Talon
Ididn’t want to do this here. I didn’t want Zeke to find out who I was while he’s this vulnerable. The power discrepancy between us was already too great, even if Zeke didn’t know it.
Now, with him literally battered and bruised and not having a single belonging to call his own, the discrepancy has only grown, making me acutely aware of the shit I’m going to catch for this. But I don’t care.
Zeke’s worth it.
Do you think maybe you feel so strongly about Derek because you have feelings for Zeke that extend beyond friendship?
If I’m brutally honest with myself, the answer is yes. But I’m not sure I can name the feelings. I mean, obviously, there’s a desire to help him, but I try to help everybody. I also have a strange desire to protect him, although, again, not out of the ordinary for me. But there’s something more.
I just want to be around him. I enjoy how hard he makes me work for every smile and laugh. He doesn’t give them freely or insincerely.
How the actual fuck did I let this happen?
I’m one of the wealthiest bachelors in New York. There are societal expectations of me, as well as familial obligations, and the feelings I have for Zeke don’t fit either of those things.
“Talon, I don’t have any other option unless I want to go back to living in my car, and right now, I can’t even get my car,” Zeke says, his face turned away from me. “So, I’m sort of at your mercy here.”
“You always have options, Zeke. I won’t force you into anything that makes you uncomfortable. And just so we’re clear, I’m not asking for anything in return,” I tell him honestly.
“I know. That’s the part that makes me uncomfortable,” he admits.
I should’ve anticipated that.
“Then we’ll come up with something that works for both of us, but I’m not taking your money.” Zeke’s brows furrow. “Are you in pain?” I ask immediately.
“Not really. Why?”
“That look on your face.”
Zeke chews the inside of his cheek. “I only had one other thing to offer, and I fear it’s probably not going to be particularly useful for a while.
” I’m not following until he adds, “I don’t remember everything that happened last night, but bleeding from your ass generally never indicates anything good. ”
The truth smacks me in the face like a ton of fucking bricks, and I swear to God, I almost black out from anger. Flying out of the chair, my fingers curl around the edge of Zeke’s hospital bedrail, my knuckles turning white against the plastic.
“Are you telling me that piece of shit fucking raped you on top of everything else?” I seethe, only able to keep it together because Eloise has already placed the phone call to our attorney.
That’s what the doctor had been about to say before I cut him off. They ran an STD panel and a fucking rape kit.
Zeke swallows, and his bottom lip quivers as he chews the inside of his cheek.
“Guaranteed consent and easy access were part of the deal, so I don’t really know if it counts,” he says sadly.
“Zeke, if you—”
Knuckles on the door cut my sentence short, and two uniformed officers step inside, nodding at us both in greeting.
“Gentlemen, I’m Officer Michaels. This is Officer Newsome.”
I nod in return, my left hand finding Zeke’s again as I extend my right toward Office Michaels.
“Talon Devereaux.”
“Mr. Devereaux, we’ll have a couple of questions for you as well, but would you mind if we speak to Mr. Hastings alone for a minute?”
My eyes flash to Zeke, who nods.
“I’ll be right outside,” I inform everyone.
Ten minutes later, the officers step into the hallway and find me pacing, impatiently waiting to be allowed back into Zeke’s room.
“Mr. Hastings was adamant that he doesn’t want to press charges, but he didn’t demand that the pictures in his medical record be deleted, so that’s something. And since rape carries no statute of limitations, perhaps he’ll change his mind once he’s feeling better.”
“What about a restraining order? Zeke is coming to live with me. I don’t want Derek allowed anywhere near him…near us.”
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t convince him to file the order, either,” Officer Newsome says. “We see it a lot in cases like this. The abused party fears invoking the wrath of the abuser by trying to protect themselves.”
“Dammit,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
“Maybe you can convince him?” Officer Newsome asks. Meanwhile, I feel Officer Michaels clocking my responses.
“Zeke is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Not to mention, he thinks this is his fault. I doubt he’ll listen. Is there any way I can file it for him? No matter the cost, tell me how to protect him,” I practically beg.
“Officer Newsome, could you grab us a couple coffees? I’ll be right there,” Officer Michaels says to the other man in uniform.
Officer Newsome nods and heads down the hallway without question.
Officer Michaels looks back at me, a stern expression on his face.
“You’re lucky it’s Jeremy with me today.
Rookie’s got a heart of gold. But me? I’ve been around the block a few times, and I lost my rose-colored glasses a long time ago.
I’ve seen firsthand what can happen if a guy like Derek Palmer gets his hands on that kid again.
” He pulls a folded piece of paper from his chest pocket.
“Take this into that room and make sure it comes out signed. I’ll wait here. ”
His underlying meaning is clear: sign it your-damn-self if you have to.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I enter Zeke’s room, grab a pen, and walk to his bedside.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Zeke, I can’t imagine how hard the last few years have been for you, let alone the past twenty-four hours, but you’re not alone anymore.
I am begging you, please sign this form.
Please help me protect you. If Derek tries to retaliate, I swear I’ll make sure I bury him before he can lay another finger on you, but I need you to sign this form. ”
“It’ll just piss him off even more, Talon. And I’m already putting you at risk, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”
“Zeke, he’s already pissed. And without this form, there’s nothing the law can do to protect you. Even if they choose to prosecute Derek without your testimony, that will take months. And nothing is going to happen to me.”
“You’re not invincible,” Zeke says, growing agitated.
“Pretty damn close.”
A thousand emotions pass over Zeke’s facial features as he finally reaches for the form.
“I don’t want to testify because I don’t want to give up more of my life to him.
I don’t want to face him and relive even a second of the time I spent with him.
I don’t want to be raked over the coals and questioned because I already know I’m partly to blame.
I hope you don’t think that makes me weak. ”
“You are not at fault here, Zeke,” I say adamantly. “Not even a little. Nor are you weak. Look what you’ve just survived! I understand not wanting to go through a hearing or a trial, but at least sign this paper. It’s not nearly enough for what he deserves, but at least it’s something.”
“Fine,” he says with a sigh of defeat. “But when he finds out about this, he’ll want to kill me.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s me he’ll be after,” I say in an effort to reassure Zeke of his safety, but the look on his face tells me I missed the mark. “He won’t get to either one of us. I promise.”
I’ll spend every dollar I have to ensure it.
“How can you guarantee that?” Zeke asks.
“Because I have resources,” I say simply.
“Ohmygod,” he groans. “You work for the mafia or something, don’t you?”
This makes me bark out a laugh because my family would be the worst mafia family in the history of organized crime. Okay, maybe not Eloise, but Luke and I for sure.
“Definitely not,” I tell him, taking the signed form from him.
Slipping back out the door, I give Officer Michaels the piece of paper and my heartfelt thanks, and then he’s gone, and I’m by Zeke’s side once more.
“You must be exhausted,” I say, gently brushing his hair back from his forehead.
“I am. But I need my questions answered more than I need sleep.”
I take a seat and drop the bedrail so nothing separates us.
I want to touch him just so I know he’s okay.
I want to feel the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers to know he’s alive, but given everything he’s gone through, I keep my hands to myself while I answer his questions, letting him decide if my touch is something he wants after learning the magnitude of my lie.
“What do you want to know?” I finally ask.
“Why does your last name sound familiar? What did you mean when you said, ‘it’s already been taken care of’?
What offer was the doctor talking about?
And what resources?” he asks as his eyelids begin drooping.
The hour he’s been awake has been more taxing to him than he’s letting on, and I’m just thankful the pain medicine seems to be working.
“My full name is Christian Talon Devereaux, and my last name sounds familiar because it’s now on several buildings at the ski resort…
including Summit.” I pause, trying to gauge his reaction, but the only indication that he knows where this is going is the increased beeping on his heart rate monitor. “My family bought Ricochet last fall.”
Keeping up better than I expected, Zeke says, “Ohmygod. You’re my boss?”
“Sort of. Technically, I’m your boss’s boss’s boss. Victoria’s boss,” I add unnecessarily.
“Why’d you lie?” he asks, making my stomach clench.
“I didn’t lie,” I argue weakly. “I was truly there to learn all the positions at Summit.”
“But not to fill in during sick days and vacations.”
“I would if I needed to,” I reply, trying my hardest to make it sound less manipulative.
Zeke pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve had enough half-truths to last me a lifetime, Talon.”
The fact that he’s still calling me Talon, and not Christian, is giving me hope that maybe this is salvageable.