Page 63 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

If he ever found his balls.

Tommy was stepping off a curb when a cruiser passed him by. The cop driving didn’t look familiar, but he did a double take at Tommy and then pulled out a cell phone. Tommy didn’t think much of it at the time, but about fifteen minutes later, when Tommy was less than three blocks from Gene’s apartment, a shiny black Mustang came to a screeching halt, kicking up ice and sand next to Tommy on the sidewalk.

The door opened, and Tommy could see Bobby leaning over the passenger’s seat.

“Get in,” he said sharply.

Tommy was about to apologize for not calling. He wanted to explain about the phone and about what he’d dealt with that morning, but when he opened his mouth, Bobby pulled back and put his hands on the wheel. “Get in the goddamn car, Tom.”

Bobby didn’t have to tell him again.

Chapter Fourteen

The heat in the car was on full blast as Tommy slid into the leather seat and closed the passenger door. Bobby tore away from the curb and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the frozen street. The chains on the tires chewed through the snow like an overzealous lawnmower on fresh grass.

Tommy tried to speak again, but Bobby put his hand up to stop him. His jaw was working overtime, and Tommy could see the muscles and a vein in his neck throb. Bobby was ready to explode.

“There are so many things I need to say to you, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Bobby’s words were short, clipped syllables that he spat at Tommy.

“Never in my life have I been so pissed off at a person. And that includes the guy that shot me!” He slammed his fist on the steering wheel and pointed at Tommy. “Do you have any idea— No, do you even give a shit what you’ve put me through in the last day and a half?”

That hurt. He could see how Bobby might read his actions as not caring, but it still sucked to hear it. “Yes, I’m sorr—”

“Shut up, Tom. It’s time for the grown-up to talk.”

Okay, Tommy had felt bad for how he’d handled things, but that was a toe over the line, even if he had been the one in the wrong. “Look, if you’re gonna be an asshole, I can just hop out and get on with things, Bobby.”

Bobby swung into the parking lot of a grocery store and double-parked near the back. He turned to Tommy. “Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to just storm off again.”

Tommy was about to tell him that he didn’t exactly pitch a fit and stomp off without dessert. His whole life had been shredded before his eyes, and he was trying to wrap his head around it.

Bobby seemed to read his thoughts, and he softened his tone. “I get it, Tom. I get that you were freaking out and devastated, I do.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve even tried to understand why you pushed me away, but honestly, if you would’ve just listened to me, you might have saved us both some grief.”

Tommy sank down farther into the seat. “Why? Because you’ve got it all figured out already? You’ve worked out some grand scheme to get shit back under control?”

“You know,” Bobby said slowly, like he was making a decision. “I’ll just let you twist. You can figure it all out on your own and do it all your way, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the one you blame for anything.”

He could’ve left then. Tommy knew he could get out of the car and walk away for good, let it all end right there in an icy parking lot. But the bitter truth was, all he wanted was to rest his head on Bobby’s shoulder and let some of his anguish wash away. The reality of loving someone was never clearer to Tommy than in that moment. They were a mess together, they fought, and they butted heads over everything from what to have for dinner to what to do in the long run. But Tommy loved him so much the idea of losing him hurt almost as much as the very real pain he felt over losing the kids. There were times when the right thing to do was to cut your losses and save everyone a lot of heartache, but this wasn’t that time. This was the time to dig his heels in and fight to the bloody end, and Tommy knew it.

“I don’t blame you for anything, Bobby.” He didn’t look at Bobby, but he hoped he was listening. “None of this shit is your fault.”

Bobby was silent for a long minute, and then he asked, “Would you still say that if I told you I was the one who called the kids in?”

Tommy jerked his head up, and he glared angrily at Bobby. “Do you wanna explain that?”

Bobby laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I’ve been trying to since I called the pub Saturday night.”

Tommy waited, but he felt like maybe he’d been wrong a moment ago. Maybe Bobby and this disaster of a relationship weren’t worth pissing on, let alone fighting for.

“Even now, all these months later, you still don’t trust me, do you?” Bobby asked.

The pain in his expression lanced through Tommy’s anger and his fear and, yes, even his distrust. “I’m tryin’ like hell, but you saying something like that doesn’t make it easy.”

“Fair enough,” Bobby said softly.

It took him so long to say anything else Tommy thought Bobby might just leave it there.

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