Page 29 of Paradise

Garrett squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. It almost looked like he was fighting himself, but when he opened them again, they were clear and calm. “It’s going to be okay. We can handle this. No one is going to take Cody away.”

“Garrett …”

“No, sweetheart. That’s not going to happen. It simply isn’t an option. Even if the impossible happens, and Jack’s got a leg tostand on, I’d be willing to pick up everything and fly our family somewhere not even a Drifter could find us.”

Jonah’s heart lurched a little. “What, leave Pandora? And Paradise?”

“If it means keeping us all together.”

“How could you just—baby, you’ve got so much here, your whole family, your career—”

“It doesn’t matter. You two are more important.” He leaned in and kissed Jonah, long and hard enough to take his breath away. “But it’s not going to be necessary. I promise.” He kissed him again, then settled in against Jonah’s side. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Go to sleep.” He rubbed his hand rhythmically against Jonah’s chest, and despite himself, Jonah drifted into unconsciousness.

***

Garrett slowly extricated himself from Jonah’s embrace and out from under the blankets. Jonah stirred but didn’t wake, and Garrett was relieved. His heart was stabbing in time with the burning coal of shame in his stomach.

He hadn’t told Jonah the truth. That had been his chance, and he hadn’t said anything.

But it wasn’t necessary! Yes, Garrett had a recording of Jonah and Kilroy’s conversation; his ship’s com automatically recorded and saved calls coming through it for two standard months, and yes, that could help in the long run, but it wasn’t going to be necessary. And all right, yes, he had promised to tell Robbie if Kilroy had proposed spying on them, but he knew that Jonah had a soft spot for the Drifter no matter what he said, and he didn’t want to damage that relationship any more than it already was.

A distant part of Garrett’s brain tried to point out to him that he was behaving irrationally, and that it was something to be concerned about. He ignored it. He had other things to do,betterthings to do. He could handle everything. He got out of bed, straightened his clothes, and left his lover sleeping as he slipped away.

Chapter sixteen

Garrett

So to be clear, Garrett was an adult. He was a goddamned adult, he had been making his own decisions for years, and he was perfectly self-sufficient. Hewas. But when his life got really confusing, when things looked like they were careening straight into the gravity well of a black hole, and he didn’t have the energy to escape it, he tended to fall back on the lessons he’d learned in his childhood. The main one, the one that had stuck with him since he was fourteen, was this: when his back was to the wall, the one person he could always rely on was his father.

It didn’t matter how messed up Garrett was, or what stupid thing he had done, Miles would always help him. He was an organizer, he was a planner, he thought things through. Miles could multitask with more efficiency than anyone Garrett had ever known, outside of people with specialized implants, and he did it all with the kind of ruthless competency that made him an effective military officer and an invaluable politician to the Alliance. He was calm, collected, and good at synthesizing, andthat was exactly the kind of perspective that Garrett needed right now. Garrett was never really calm and collected on his best days, and for some reason, his brain had been a little …bouncylately. Too much going on to focus, maybe.

It was early, too early for most Paradisians to be up, but that norm didn’t apply to the governor of the planet. Garrett found his father sitting on the living room couch in the first family’s wing, documents and graphs pulled up on the tabletop and some of them projected into the air above it. He was moving them back and forth, quietly asking the computer for new comparisons and statistics, and Garrett’s heart warmed a little when he saw the antique spectacles perched on the end of his father’s nose. His eyes were Miles’ one point of personal vanity; he insisted they didn’t require any corrective surgery even though it would only take a minute, and he just put the glasses on “when his eyes were tired” for close-up work.

“Hey,” Garrett called softly as he stepped into the room. He was carrying two cups of coffee, made in his own apartment because he knew his father wouldn’t want to risk waking his wife and baby with the noise of their own machine.

“Hey, Gare.” Miles looked over at him and smiled, pulling the glasses off and putting them on the edge of the table. He scooted over a bit and made room for Garrett, accepting a cup of coffee with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You’re up early.”

“Mmm.” Garrett stalled by taking a sip as he tried to pull his scattered thoughts together. Coherence. Coherence was important when you were trying to talk to someone. “I didn’t sleep, actually.”

“You do look pretty tired.” Miles’ expression was going from “friend” to “concerned Dad,” and Garrett didn’t want that, so he plowed ahead.

“I need your help.” He took a deep breath to marshal his thoughts. “This has to do with Jonah and Cody, and it’s kind of complicated, but before I start, I need you to know that Jonah hasn’t done anything wrong or illegal.”

“Sounds serious,” Miles said, his tone mild and soothing.

“It … could be.” Garrett felt his hands try to tremble, and he tightened his grip on his mug. “I assume you’ve been getting reports from Corporal Kelly.”

“Yes.”

“So you know, generally, where we’ve been going, and what we’ve been doing.”

“I know you met with Drifters at the bazaar. I know Jonah’s met with them again since, but I don’t know any of the details, and I didn’t ask for them. It’s not my place to pry into your life, son.”

Garrett forced a smile. God,thattopic had been a hell of a fight when he was a teenager. Garrett had been fresh out of rehab, sent back home and newly confronted with the fact that his father, who had been absent for most of his young life, was not only going to be around, but he was also going to beinvolved. Garrett had accused him of prying, of forcing his presence where it wasn’t wanted, of being too little too late. His father had taken all that abuse calmly, then told Garrett that while he wasn’t going to pry, he wasn’t going to disappear either. He was going to be there every hour of every day whether his son liked it or not, and what Garrett got out of it was up to him.

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