Chapter 9 #5
Half an hour later, Joshua set the tablet aside and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
So. Leo was a virtual ghost. No social media account, not even a picture linked to his name.
Since James worked without a website, there wasn’t anything to be found there either. There was just… nothing.
How? In this day and age, how was that possible?
Joshua’s stomach felt as though it was filled with lead.
No one could be so paranoid as to erase all virtual tracks of their existence.
What about school records, or the graduation list from a university?
Odd jobs where Leo’s name would be added to some “our team” page?
A random photograph taken at some event?
Picking the tablet up again, Joshua stared blankly at the screen for several moments, a little numb. Then he called up a new email to George.
Who’s that person at MI5 who sometimes helps you out? Can you send me the contact details? .x - J
Mo and Nate were the last to join them for breakfast, and one glance was enough to tell Joshua that something had changed between them—they sat just a little bit closer, hands bumping, knees pressed together under the table.
With Tristan and Kelsey turned towards each other, speaking in some kind of shorthand code, Joshua was glad of Ed’s presence.
Ed was the first to leave, shortly followed by Tristan and Kelsey, then Nate got to his feet as well, smiling as he thanked Joshua for the delicious breakfast as well as the hospitality. “I’ll drive you home,” Mo told him.
Nate’s eyes were warm when they found Mo. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” Mo said.
Joshua felt himself start to smile in spite of the unease that had taken up permanent residence in his belly, indecision weighing on him.
More than once, he’d come close to changing his mind and contacting the MI5 bloke so as to call off the basic background check on Leo Graham, born twenty-seven years ago on the 24th of December.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said to Mo.
Mo’s very mature response consisted of sticking out his tongue. He seemed lighter than Joshua had seen him in a while, content, and it made Joshua’s grin soften.
He walked both of them to the door, hugging Nate goodbye. While Nate brought his own arms up to return the embrace, he looked openly confused, and Joshua was prompted into a chuckle. “That’s for making my best mate happy,” Joshua told him. “I like people who make my friends happy.”
Nate’s features relaxed and he gave Joshua’s shoulder a quick squeeze, then hesitated briefly. “He’ll—Leo. Don’t give up on him, yeah? He really… I mean, not that I know anything for sure, but it’s just—it’s tricky.”
Tricky, Joshua thought. Right, yes, tricky. Jesus, that even Nate had only pieces of the puzzle meant that it had to be bad, really bad, and—and Joshua had asked an MI5 officer to look into Leo’s background. What the hell had he been thinking?
He couldn’t do that. It was wrong, an abuse of power, and he needed to stop it. This was not him. This was not who he wanted to be.
As soon as Mo and Nate were gone, Joshua would put an end to it.
A little blankly, he echoed Nate’s goodbyes and turned to Mo. “Hey,” he remembered to ask, low with his mouth against Mo’s ear. “So it’s going well? He told you what’s going on?”
“Starting to. Working on it.” Mo pulled back, a genuine smile in his eyes. Joshua returned it.
He waited until the sound of their footsteps had faded down the stairs before he closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting the silence of his empty flat settle in his blood.
All right. So he’d made a mistake. He should not have resorted to looking for virtual traces of Leo, should most definitely not have brought in MI5.
He’d call it off. He’d call it off right now, and it would be as though it had never happened.
Pushing away from the door, he went to retrieve his tablet, was about to pull up George’s email with the contact information when he noticed a new message in his inbox. The subject was a simple “Your Request”, sent by John Fallon. The MI5 guy.
Joshua held his breath.
He should delete it. He should.
Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and clicked on the message.
It wasn’t too late. He hadn’t read it yet. He could still delete it, could still pretend he’d never, ever gone that far. Exhaling in a rush, he opened his eyes and focused on the single line of text.
There is no record of such a person, Sir. Would you like me to explore alternate solutions?
Joshua shoved the tablet away and struggled to control his breathing. Fought down the sour bile that rose to the back of his throat.
* * *
The black Mercedes hadn’t been parked in front of Leo’s house when he’d left.
Drawing to a sharp halt, Leo startled when the football he’d been juggling bounced down next to him on the pavement, rolling a few feet before it came to rest against one of the car tyres.
With its tinted windows in the back, the Mercedes was blatantly too posh for the area.
Could it be…? Under the excuse of picking up the ball, Leo peered into the front.
Zach. That was Zach behind the wheel.
Oh God. Joshua was here.
Had he changed his mind? Did he want Leo in his life after all?
Even if it was just as friends—well, they couldn’t be more, not if Joshua wanted to be open with the public.
Leo needed to remember that. The one time he’d allowed himself to forget, he’d ended up in Joshua’s bed, and Joshua had kicked him out in the morning.
Friends. It was better than nothing.
With a nod at Zach, Leo straightened and turned to enter his building.
The front door hadn’t locked in years so Joshua had to be inside, waiting upstairs in front of Leo’s flat.
Why had he come? What had happened in between last night and this morning that would suddenly make him seek Leo out?
Unease shivered in his belly, and he was overly aware that he was sweaty and dishevelled from playing football in the park, an unsuccessful attempt to distract himself.
He climbed the stairs slowly, ball clutched to his chest. Last turn. A deep breath, and Leo made himself continue.
Fuck. Okay, yes. There Joshua was, sitting with his back against Leo’s door.
At the sound of Leo’s footsteps, Joshua looked up sharply.
Shadows were braided into his hair, the green of his eyes reduced to a dull grey, and the moment he saw Leo, he clambered to his feet.
Leo wanted to wrap himself all around him and cling until every last trace of tension had drained from Joshua’s body.
Instead, he stopped a couple of paces away. “Hi,” he said softly. His skin felt brittle, and he touched his knuckles against the wall to ground himself.
Joshua stared at him, motionless for several seconds that lurched like tidal waves. Then he opened his mouth and drew a deep breath, dragging his gaze away. “Hi, Leo. If that’s even your name.”
What—oh God.
Fuck, no.
No, no, no.
“What do you—” Leo began, his voice echoing hollowly in the stairway.
“There is,” Joshua’s voice hitched, “no Leo Graham. At least there isn’t one born on the 24th of December. Not in the UK.”
How did he know, how?
Leo’s veins had turned into barbed wire. Somehow, he managed to pull himself together, work up enough of a will to move past Joshua and unlock the door to his flat. Joshua knew; how much did he know?
There is no Leo Graham.
Stumbling into the flat, Leo left the door open. He was still clutching the ball to his chest. Static was buzzing in his ears, making it hard to focus.
“What did you do?” Joshua asked from behind him. “Whatever would make you change your name? Did you, like, kill someone?”
That last question punched through Leo’s stupor. He shot around, found Joshua standing in the doorway and shook his head, a little desperately. “Jesus, no. Fuck’s sake, how can you even think that?”
“I don’t know what to think! I mean, hi, I just found out that the guy I…” Joshua waved a hand around, voice rising. “He doesn’t even exist! I thought I knew you, but now it’s like I don’t even—”
“You do know me,” Leo interrupted. “You do. Joshua…” He took a step forward and froze when Joshua shied away from him, bumping into the half-open door so it fell shut.
It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. Joshua’s eyes were wide in the grey brightness that flooded Leo’s corridor, a hectic flush to his cheeks, and he was watching Leo with thick confusion.
He was here, though. That had to count for something.
When he finally spoke, it was with the air of someone wading through a nightmare. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t even know your name.”
Leo’s body pulled tight with the need to touch Joshua, to bridge that distance. “You know who I am,” he squeezed out. “You know who I am now. This is who I am.”
Joshua barely seemed to hear, his voice still that awful, bewildered rasp.
“Did you do something illegal? Is that why you—Like, are you in trouble with the law?” He paused, reaching out one hand to steady himself against the wall.
“I mean, a guy like you can’t be with a guy like me? What the hell did you do that’s so—”
Leo dropped the ball. It landed on the floor with a dull thud.
“Please don’t.” He couldn’t force enough air into his lungs.
“I’m not, like, a criminal in hiding. I didn’t kill anyone.
Nothing like that, I swear. I just… I needed a fresh start.
That’s all. I needed to cut my ties.” The words felt thin, translucent.
Painfully inadequate. “This is who I’ve become.
This is me.” Breathe, breathe. They were too far apart, an abyss of space between them, and Leo couldn’t swallow back the despair that weighed down his voice.
“How did you even know? How did you find out?”
“Did a Google search.” Joshua’s exhalation hissed out through his teeth. “No results. So I asked MI5.”
MI5.