Ryker
Thankfully, the station is quiet.
We get days like this when the call-outs are minor or false alarms, and whatever almighty deity is up there has blessed me with one. I request the afternoon off, and it’s granted as long as I agree to work an extra night shift on Thursday.
It’s a small price to pay.
The extra few hours in the afternoon allow us to put our plan into action before we chaperone Freddie back to the house. Liam had wanted to go to extremes to keep Freddie with us, the “handcuff to the radiator” kind of extreme, but I told him absolutely not.
We haven’t needed handcuffs so far, and I think if we go easy on Freddie, we won’t need to resort to them . . . not until he’s asking for them anyway.
I bounce in my seat as I drive away from the station, and there’s a big smile slapped to my face.
Freddie didn’t shout that name, and afterwards, after he came for the second time, he pressed into my neck, going limp against me.
It must be instinctual in him to trust us when he’s at his most vulnerable, and that makes me feel big and powerful in a way that’s left me giddy.
Liam watched him with a smile on his lips, the first smile I’ve seen in ages. He said Freddie’s name until he groaned awake, but his blinks were slow, and he seemed confused as Liam heaved him off me and helped him stand.
The numb arse and the messy trousers had been totally worth it, but I didn’t enjoy the pins and needles that suddenly assaulted me when I got to my feet.
Freddie swayed, then clutched onto Liam, a sure sign of how out of it he was, and Liam stiffened, overwhelmed with physical contact before relaxing and holding Freddie back.
“Bed,” I’d said.
Freddie ended up in Liam’s, and Liam ended up in mine, and in the morning we both checked on him before we went downstairs for breakfast.
I drive to the closest supermarket to get what we need, then I’m back on the road, tapping a tune out against the steering wheel.
It doesn’t surprise me that Liam’s there first. When I asked whether he could get a half day, he’d frowned and replied “Of course” in a tone that suggested I was an idiot.
He’s parked his car along the curb, but he’s not got out yet.
We’re doing this together.
I grab the roll of gardening-strength bags from the passenger seat, then leave the car, cueing Liam to do the same.
How we go about things might be different, but we agreed this morning that Freddie was moving in with us.
I’m willing to give up Liam’s bedroom for him.
Liam had glowered at me but agreed that Freddie needed some space from us if he wanted it.
Space meaning a few metres.
Even the bedroom door is too much for Liam and he mumbled about removing it from the hinges.
I pretended I didn’t hear him. Freddie’s always felt safe with us .
. . and while riding his post-orgasm bliss he still does, but without that or the escalating fog of arousal, he’s cagey and unsure.
He needs to feel safe in our house, and I bought a lock to fit on the inside of the bedroom in case he wants it.
Liam will kick my arse when he finds out.
I don’t know where Freddie’s been staying, no one does, but according to Mel, who is now my mole on the inside, Freddie hasn’t been back to his and Keegan’s place for his things.
All he’s got with him is his battered rucksack, but eventually he’ll need more clothes.
That’s where Liam and I come in. We’re taking them. Liam’s car will be loaded with his stuff when we go to collect him later. He won’t have to come here again. He won’t have to see Keegan. Liam won’t grind his teeth to dust thinking about them meeting up behind closed doors.
It doesn’t matter that I tell him infidelity is huge for Freddie and he won’t go back there, Liam still fears he might, and that Keegan will get her claws into him and rip him away from us.
“Ready?” I ask.
Liam doesn’t answer. He just strolls up the garden path, which I guess is an answer in his world.
He wants this done, and quickly. Liam knocks on the door, but when it opens a crack on Keegan, he doesn’t say a word.
Her hand grips the edge of the door and her purple nails gleam.
I can only see one of her eyes, heavily made up and fixed on me.
“We’re here for Freddie’s things,” I say, holding up the roll of bags.
“Right.” Her head lowers, and she takes a step back as she opens the door.
Liam doesn’t look at her as he snatches the bags from my hand and goes inside. His feet stomp on the stairs as he goes to clear Freddie’s drawers, and Keegan’s lips part in shock as she stares after Liam, but she doesn’t protest.
Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing cotton-candy-pink pyjamas. At first I think she might be sick, or perhaps mourning her broken-down relationship, but the ruby-red lipstick, the smoky eyeshadow and blush to her cheeks tell me a different story.
Keegan’s getting ready and she started with her makeup.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she tells me. Her eyes close in a long blink. “He’s a great guy—”
“You don’t need to tell me, and he didn’t deserve finding out like that.”
“You know.” She slumps dramatically. “You know, don’t you?”
“That you were sleeping with the stepbrother and he walked in on you going at it? Yes, we know.”
Keegan shakes her head. “It’s not like that. Ben and I . . . we have history. We were involved once, and with everything happening with Freddie, he was there. He told me how he felt about me, how he still feels about me, and things . . . things escalated.”
“That’s a weird way of describing your legs opening.”
“Fuck you, Ryker,” she snaps. “You can’t judge me, not when you’re the biggest man whore around.”
“It’s funny because I still can judge, and I do.”
“You don’t know what Freddie’s been like this last month.”
My mouth shuts with a click of my teeth. She’s right, I don’t, because I couldn’t handle being around him, couldn’t fake being happy about his engagement.
“Then enlighten me,” I reply coldly.
“He’s been stressed, and quiet, and worried about work.”
“What about work?”
Keegan looks away. “He’s convinced himself he’s going to lose his job. Every day he goes there believing he’s about to be fired. I tried to cheer him up . . .” Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and a memory plays in her eyes. “I tried . . .”
My stomach fills with lead. “What did you try?”
“I surprised him.”
“With what?”
“Dinner.” She glances off towards the door that leads to the kitchen.
Her surprise happened here, but something tells me it wasn’t a few burnt potatoes or a raw carrot that soured her grand gesture.
Something went wrong, and whatever it was puts a deep wrinkle at the top of her nose when she thinks about it.
“What happened?” I ask.
Keegan shut her eyes. “I invited Freddie’s dad over.”
Shit.
That lead in my stomach reveals itself to be a dagger and jabs into my side. “His . . . his dad. You surprised him with his dad?”
“I didn’t know . . .” She folds her arms defensively.
I widen my eyes. “You didn’t know they don’t get on?”
Keegan leans her back to the wall with a thud, and my nose itches at the whiff of her perfume. “I knew that. Freddie said he didn’t want his dad at the wedding, but I thought it was sad, so I reached out to Ian, and we talked.” She shrugs. “He seems nice to me.”
“He’s not your dad. He’s not let you down a million times and hurt you.”
“But that’s all in the past. He wanted to make amends. He was polite, and welcoming. A proper gentleman.”
“There’s no way in hell that’s true.”
“It was Freddie who reacted badly. He started shouting and told his dad to get out.”
My eyes are stinging. “He damaged Freddie and his mum emotionally, and physically, and treated them like a yo-yo, throwing them away then yanking them back. Freddie’s mum never cut that string, she died still being toyed with, but he broke free.”
It had been a horrible cycle to watch. We begged our parents to step in, but Freddie’s mum inevitably let his dad back into the family home whenever he returned. Freddie would always go downhill fast.
He didn’t tell us specifics, and even as an adult he keeps it vague, but both Ryker and I saw the bruises on his body, and then there was the incident at school during PE.
Eric Granger whacked a tennis ball Freddie’s way, and he threw himself to the ground, shaking and terrified.
He started breathing too fast and clutching his chest, and Liam and I thought he was having a heart attack.
It was downgraded to a panic attack, but that wasn’t much better.
Our best friend had panicked so badly from a ball heading his way at speed he’d collapsed, and we didn’t know why, but it was him, his dad, something to do with him.
The black eye and broken socket he got from playing ball with his dad in the garden always made us suspicious too.
“He’s still his dad,” Keegan says.
“No, he isn’t. You’ve got to earn that title.”
She has the gall to roll her damn eyes at me.
“Freddie told his dad to never contact him. He never wanted to see him again and you invited him into his home, his safe place.” I back up a step and take a few measured breaths. Maybe I’m being unfair, but she shouldn’t have meddled in that relationship.
“Freddie shut me out and he . . . he changed, the way I saw him changed,” she says, “And Ben was there . . .”
“Save it,” I say.
“It was only once. A moment of weakness.”
I smirk. “We both know that’s not true.”
Keegan’s pitiful facade falls, and she pushes off the wall as she jabs a finger into my chest. “Who have you been talking to?”
I won’t drop Mel in it. Instead, I look Keegan up and down. “Who else are you getting all dolled up for?”
That reasoning seems to satisfy her and my mole stays undetected.
“Freddie won’t take my calls or respond to my texts. It’s over, that’s all he’s said. One message. If I mean so little to him, if he’s not willing to fight for what we have, then there’s no point moping around.”