Chapter 83
Alfie glanced over at Rhys as they climbed into Rhys’s car. They left his back at the clubhouse the night before when they’d taken the rideshare home with Mel.
Alfie had figured he’d stay sober like usual and drive himself and Rhys home. Mel had made the suggestion of calling a car when they were done, so he could let himself go. Most people wouldn’t think the two beers he’d enjoyed was letting himself go, but it was more than he usually allowed himself.
Look where it had gotten them.
He didn’t regret spending the night with Rhys and Mel.
Again. There had been something there, even more so this morning, when they’d woken Rhys up together.
He wasn’t sure exactly what to call it, it wasn’t the same thing he felt for Rhys.
Right now, he was afraid it would slip through his fingers, before he could find a name for it.
Rhys might slip right through his fingers, too. He wasn’t sure he could do anything to hold onto him. As they headed over to the clubhouse, Rhys stared out the window, his fingers tapping out an uneven beat against his knee. He didn’t even fiddle with the radio as he usually would.
“What did he want?” Alfie finally asked. “It was bad enough when he came to your work, but he followed you to someone’s home. Is this man dangerous, Rhys?”
“He thinks he can get something from me I don't have. He believes he can guilt me into it.”
“Is he dangerous?” Alfie asked again.
Rhys didn’t answer. Not at first. As they were pulling into the clubhouse’s parking lot, he said, “He beat me up when I was fifteen because he saw me kissing another boy. Our foster parents praised him for bringing my unrighteousness to their attention. Now, he thinks I owe that woman anything. He’s not going to get it from me.
I don’t care what he does with those damn pictures. ”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“He said he was going to sell them to a sports blog or tabloid if I don’t pay him. And I won’t.”
Pictures. Of the three of them together. His stomach churned. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but not everyone would see it that way. Would his family?
“You aren’t the only one who could be hurt by them.”
“No one cares that much about some minor leaguers. We aren’t Caleb.”
“My family follows those blogs,” Alfie said.
“Your family loves you. They aren’t going to care.”
“What about Mel?” Alfie wasn’t sure if he could believe Rhys on that one.
Sure, they were accepting of Rosa and Jen’s relationship.
She wasn’t the oldest son. She wasn’t the one Lucero was so desperate to take after and leave them behind.
“What about the work they do at the center? They’ve already faced problems, what if this brings more on them. ”
“You think I should just give in? Give him money I don’t have, for a woman who thought locking me in my room and praying over me every night would put my soul to rightness.”
“No,” Alfie said sharply, though he wanted to cry for the boy Rhys had been. The fact it had taken this for Rhys to talk to him about it. “You could let us help you. At least let Mel know what’s going on. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
“It’s not going to go away,” Rhys said. Shouted really. It made Alfie reel back, right against the car door. “This is me, Alfie. Nothing but a fuck-up. Is it any surprise I’m going to ruin your and Mel’s lives too? You’re better off without me.”
“That is not true.” Alfie leaned toward Rhys, his voice gruff. “I do not care what those people told you. I want you in my life.”
“It wasn't only one family. Everyone knew I wasn’t good enough. I don’t know why you can’t see it, too.”
“You’ve always been good enough.” Alfie took a deep breath. “What about Simon? You said he believed in you.” Did Rhys actually believe he didn’t have anything to offer anyone?
Was all of his confidence just a mask?
“Right. Except he didn’t even want me. Not enough to actually have me in his life.” He froze, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “I can’t do this. Not now.”
“Rhys.”
He shoved out of the car. Alfie stared at him, unsure what to say to make this better. Or to show him he was worth so much more than he believed.
Maybe that wasn’t something in his power.