Broken Pieces

Page 83

A fucking delusion is what that thought had been.
He wasn’t with Mateo. He knew that. He might have promised Josiah that he’d stay away, but he also made sure he knew where Josiah was.
Tristan scrolled through his few text messages from Josiah.
I don’t know what to do.
I can’t deal with this.
Don’t find me... not yet.
I’m safe.
Tristan squeezed the cell until he heard a cracking noise and stopped before he broke it.
If Mateo had done something to hurt him, he’d kill the man.
Yet, as much as it would be easier if something like that were true, he knew it wasn’t. He didn’t have to know Mateo to recognize how much the man loved Josiah. They were together in that.
Shoving out of his desk chair, Tristan headed straight for the door. He didn’t even know where in the hell he was going, he just knew he needed something.
***
In the distance, Tristan saw a figure walking his way. From the build and smooth, brown skin, he knew exactly who it was. He kept going, fingers on wrist.
The other man looked up and noticed him but didn’t stop coming. And stopping wasn’t a consideration in Tristan’s head, either.
Tristan and Mateo stood face to face as a humorless chuckle threatened to tumble from his lips. He should have figured they would both come to Josiah’s favorite spot—where he’d come to walk and feed the birds for years.
“He here with you?” Mateo stared hard as he crossed his arms.
Tristan fought himself not to state the obvious, considering Josiah wasn’t standing next to him. “I haven’t seen him since he went to you.” His words sat heavy in the air. As heavy as the ache in his gut at having said that. Since he went to you...
Mateo’s eyes seemed to widen with panic. “What the fuck do you mean? Do you know where he is? If he’s okay?” Without letting Tristan answer, Mateo pushed past him. He felt Mateo stiffen when he reached out and grabbed the man’s arm. “If I were you, I’d get your hand off me. Now.”
“You still think you have to protect him,” Tristan said simply. Mateo’s jaw locked so tight, he thought it would break.
“You don’t know shit about me.”
“I would venture to guess I know more about you than you know about me.”
Anger darkened Mateo’s features. Tristan watched as his look transformed to sadness. Damned if the pain in his eyes didn’t make Tristan loosen his grip. He was surprised he’d held him that long. Surprised Mateo let him. But then instead of his hand connecting them, it was as if the chains that kept Tristan locked down, kept him closed off, didn’t somehow wrap around Mateo, too. They’d seen a lot, the two of them. Josiah had, too, but not to the same extent as Mateo and himself. There was a darkness in Mateo’s eyes that matched the one he tried to keep hidden in his own.
It was that connection, and how they both felt about the same man that made him say, “Let’s walk.”
Tristan took a couple steps, Mateo not moving but watching Tristan, as though he wanted to figure him out. Then, without a word, he stepped in line with him. It was a few minutes before Tristan spoke. “He’s at a hotel. He asked me not to come yet, so I’ve respected that. Still, like you, I wanted to be sure he was okay, so I did a little digging to find out where he was.”
Mateo cursed under his breath.
“He’s trying to figure out what to do, I think. He doesn’t know how to deal with this.”
Mateo nodded as they kept walking. “I shouldn’t have fuckin’ come. The last thing I’ve ever wanted to do was hurt, Jay.”
The nickname made Tristan flinch. Even though it was only a shortened version of his name, it was intimate in a way he’d never let himself become with Josiah. That wasn’t fair to Josiah. It’s not fair to me...
Tristan sighed, wishing the words swimming around in his head weren’t true. It would make this a whole hell of a lot easier. “I know that. Even before I met you, I knew that. I see it in the way you look at him, too.”
“Bet that makes you want to take me out, doesn’t it?” Mateo chuckled.
Tristan was surprised when he did the same. He wouldn’t lie and pretend he wouldn’t like to at least get a few hits in on him. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Mateo scratched his chest. When he did his shirt moved, showing Tristan the edge of a tattoo. Dark stubble covered his jaw, midnight just like the hair on his head. He squeezed his lips together as if deep in thought and it added a softness to his hardened features. He was a beautiful man. He almost scratched the word, thinking it too sweet for a man like him, but somehow it fit.