“No, Will. Jesus.” Taylor looked at him, shook his head, pained at the idea. “No, I don’t think that. There isn’t— That isn’t— Forgiveness isn’t in this, isn’t part of this—”
Will nodded, turned again to stare at the restless tumble of waves, as though Taylor’s stumbling inability to explain confirmed something for him. Taylor heard his words through Will’s ears and tried again, tried harder.
“Because there isn’t anything to forgive, Will. You said it yourself. I’d have made the same choice. It wasn’t even a choice, I guess. It was instinct. I know that. And if it had been the other way around, I’d probably have had the same…instinct.”
No probably about it. Will had called it last night in the hot tub.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, that it hadn’t been a shock. They were no strangers to violence, but it was still a gut punch, thinking about it, remembering that terrible moment. He still heard that shot in his dreams.
Will asked huskily, “But?”
“There isn’t any but.”
“Yeah, only there is. And I get it. You can’t help the way you feel.”
Yes, he had said that, and it was true. And it was easy to see why Will didn’t understand. “I also said I wasn’t…that I’m still…”
Had he said it, though? He had said he wasn’t leaving. He had said he didn’t blame Will. At least, he thought he had. Had he said in plain English that he was still emotionally invested in them? That, for better or for worse, when it came to Will, even wholesale slaughter probably wouldn’t shake the depth of his feelings?
Maybe not in so many words.
Maybe not in any words.
Taylor struggled with himself and finally managed to confess the truth. “I’m trying to come to terms with it. I ignored my own instincts—and yours—and insisted we take Ashe as our client. I pushed going to the house that night. I’m not forgetting. You tried to talk me out of it. I insisted we had to give him a chance to give himself up. You didn’t want to.”
Will broke in, “It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I know you think that.”
Taylor couldn’t help grimacing because yeah. That was true. He did believe that.
Will said, adamant, “It isn’t that. I know I’ve made mistakes, that mistake, before. But that night… I love you. I can’t— It’s not in me to stand aside. I did try. But, Taylor, that night you’d have made the same call. I know you would have.”
“Maybe.” Honesty compelled Taylor to say, “Probably.” He would not have let Will walk in there alone in the first place. That was the truth.
Will let out a little breath, like that was a bigger concession than he’d hoped for.
Taylor’s thoughts were running on a separate track. “It wasn’t that I was blind to the signs. But it’s not easy thinking that for all those years, Ashe hated me; hated me so much, he was willing to kill me.”
Will put a hand on his shoulder, gripped hard. “I’m sorry, Tay.”
“I know.”
“So sorry. About all of it.”
Taylor nodded. Said again, “I know.” Adding a moment later, “Me and you. That’s the thing I can’t forget. I dragged you into it and almost got you killed.”
That was the part that made it hard to sleep, to eat, to think. He hadn’t managed to help Ashe—Ashe was dead—and he’d nearly got Will killed too.
“You didn’t drag me into anything.”
“The hell, Will. Of course I did.”
“Like I haven’t dragged you into things? Christ.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Taylor admitted.
Will groaned. “I know. Believe me, I know. I swear to God, Taylor, if you could give me another chance… I have changed. I know you don’t see it, but I have. That day I ran into David, I told him his friendship wasn’t worth losing you.”
It was probably childish that that concession meant so much.
“Is that true?” Taylor tried to read Will’s face.
“Yes. It is. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what I was doing.”
Taylor, starting to feel uncomfortable, said, “It’s not like I ever thought you were—”
“I would never cheat on you. Never. Never betray you.”
Taylor really wasn’t that insecure. Will knew that, right? “I know that. I never thought that. You don’t have to choose—”
“There isn’t any choice,” Will interrupted. “That’s what I’m trying to say. There never has been. It’s you. It’s always going to be you. And yeah, because of the way I feel about you, I am always going to try to protect you, but I swear to God, I’m past trying to make your choices for you. These last few days…” Will swallowed. “Knowing you probably can’t forgive…”
“Will, listen to me. It’s not that. I feel like I failed. Everybody. I failed Ashe. I failed you——”
Will sounded almost shocked. “What are you talking about? You never failed anyone in your life.”
“I did, though. And I’m trying to work through it. I know I’ve been withdrawn and moody and… I’m trying. But I’m so goddamned…”
“What?”
Taylor shook his head.
“Angry?”
Taylor drew a long breath, let it out slowly. “Depressed. I guess.”
“Depressed?” Will sounded like he’d never heard the word before, and he probably never had. Not from Taylor, anyway. Neither of them was prone to overanalyzing—or any analyzing of—their feelings. Hell, when had they ever had the luxury of time to even consider what they might be feeling?
“You mean like… Why didn’t you say something? Why wouldn’t you let me help?” Will tried to pull him into his arms, but Taylor, feeling like a fool, resisted.
“Right. Because my feelings are your problem too?”
Will peered at him closely. “Hell, yes, your feelings are my problem. Aren’t my feelings your problem?”
Taylor let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I knew you weren’t okay. I knew you weren’t sleeping, weren’t eating—”
“Neither were you.”
“But I thought you were grieving. I killed your friend.”
Taylor rested his face in his hands. “If I hadn’t— If I could have—”
“Stop,” Will said. “Sweetheart,
