Life moved on for Mike and Josh. With the arrest of David Leades and his cronies, Leades' Distributors was out of business. Both Leades and Charles Comstock had been denied bail and were sitting in prison, awaiting their trials.
On a more personal level, things were less smooth. Josh, usually so calm and cheerful—at least in Mike's opinion—was becoming withdrawn. For the last week, he'd done what he needed to when it came to handling his part of the business, but at the end of the day he'd come up with one excuse or another to go home alone. After spending so much time together over the previous three months, Josh's sudden desire to be alone meant only one thing as far as Mike was concerned. Josh was getting tired of their relationship and was trying to ease out of it. Without hurting my feelings by coming right out and saying let's end it.
Finally, Mike decided to bite the bullet and ask. It was a hot Saturday afternoon in late August. Mike knew Josh would be home from his weekly bodyguard job and doing the same chores they both generally did on Saturdays—cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, the works.
He pulled into the lot beside Josh's apartment building, glad to see Josh's car was there. He parked, went around to the building's entryway then pushed the buzzer for Josh's apartment.
"Hello?" Josh's voice came over the intercom.
"It's me. Buzz me in."
"I'm…busy," Josh replied. "Maybe later?"
"Josh. Damn it, buzz me in. Please?" The pause was long enough that Mike was certain Josh was going to ignore him. Finally, the door buzzed. He grabbed the handle, opened it, and strode to the elevator. A few moments later he was walking down the fourth-floor hallway to Josh's apartment. He knocked when he got there.
When Josh opened the door, it was obvious something was wrong. Very wrong. His eyes were red and bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept well—or at all—the previous night. His hair was a tangled mess, and he was wearing a ratty T-shirt and old cutoffs. Mike reached for him, only to be rebuffed when Josh turned away to walk into the living room, going to stare out the window with his back to Mike.
At least he didn't slam the door in my face.
Mike closed it then followed him. One look around the room told him Josh had done nothing in terms of cleaning house—and probably hadn't even attempted to. A book lay open face down on the coffee table with a couple of dirty, empty cups next to it. He could see a pair of slacks and a shirt through the bedroom doorway, tossed on the bed as if Josh had stripped them off the moment he'd returned home that morning and left them where they'd landed rather than hanging them up. That was not at all like the Josh he knew and cared about. He glanced into the kitchen, seeing dirty dishes in the sink.
"Okay. What's going on with you?" Mike asked. "You've been avoiding me for the last few days. This—" he swept his arm around, "—is not you." Taking a deep breath, he said, "Are you trying to break it off with me and don't know how to tell me? If so, just spit it out. I'd rather know than wonder."
"No!" Josh whirled around, shock on his face.
"Then tell me why you've been acting like this."
Josh scrubbed one hand over his eyes. "It's…it's personal…and weak…and I don't want you to see me being weak."
"Why the hell not? We all have times when we are. It's part of being human and alive." Mike walked swiftly to him, gathering him in his arms. When Josh stiffened, Mike gently rubbed his back. "Tell me, please. Nothing you can say or do will make me think any the less of you." He looked directly into Josh's eyes. "Believe that."
Josh slumped into Mike's embrace. Barely above a whisper he said, "Today's the…the anniversary of the day my brother…the day Bobby died."
"My poor man," Mike replied softly. I'm such a self-centered idiot, thinking everything's got to be about me. When will I grow up? With one arm around Josh's waist, he led him to the sofa. "Sit, and I'll…" He grimaced, settling beside Josh when he complied. "I'm not sure what I'll do, other than listen if you want to talk or hold you if you don't."
"It's not usually this bad," Josh said, resting his head on Mike's shoulder. "Most times I just…remember him as he was, before it happened, and say a prayer for him. This week—" he shook his head, "—I can't get the image of him dying out of my head. Maybe it's because of all you and I have been through recently. Comstock. Leades. Seeing all the guns. Seeing Comstock and George getting shot."
"Possibly," Mike agreed softly. "Probably, I suppose." He tipped Josh's chin up so he'd look at him. "Why didn't you say something? Talking about how you're feeling might have helped. And before you go there again, I would not have thought you were being weak. That's not you, not at all. You're one of the strongest people I know."
"Except now."
"Even now, damn it. For the last week or more, you've carried the pain you're feeling and didn't break. Pushed me away? Yeah." He kissed Josh's forehead. "Which, honestly, scared the hell out of me. I thought you wanted out—maybe not from the agency, but from us, from what we've been building between us."
"Never," Josh protested. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in forever." He sighed deeply. "I should have trusted you and said something."
"And I should have asked sooner," Mike told him. "I apologize. I won't make that mistake again. I promise."
"Thank you—not for the promise, although that's part of it, but for being here. For making me talk, even though you were afraid of what I'd say. No one's ever cared enough to care." Josh grimaced. "Which is a rather redundant way to put it, isn't it?"
"Maybe, but I understand what you're saying. I do care, Josh. About what you feel, for who you are, for everything about you that makes you what you are. A very special man." Mike brushed one finger over his lips then kissed him tenderly. "Now," he said when the kiss ended, "how about you put on something a little less grubby and I'll take you to dinner."
"You don't—"
"I want to, so get moving."
Josh finally smiled—an open, happy one, even though Mike thought he saw a lingering trace of pain in his eyes. "I'll be back in a minute."
Mike took advantage of his absence to pick up the dirty cups, taking them into the kitchen where he made quick work of putting all the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. He wasn't aware that Josh had come into the room until he said, "Thank you."
"No problem. Are you ready?"
Josh nodded, hugging him hard. "I am…now."
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