Colin sifted sand through his fingers, letting it flow in a thin line back to the beach, like an hourglass. “From the beginning”—his voice dropped some—“sex ignited you, and when we were together in that way, passion, desire, and lust seemed to drown out the other stuff, and then you seemed okay. I would wake up, and it would be morning. I'd go through my day and then when it was time to sleep again, the cycle started over, always in the same place of loss.” Brushing off his hands, he shrugged. “That's it, basically. I didn't know it was you, as in Marek Donovan, the guy I knew in Henderson, ever, until the other day, here, when you got close enough, and I saw your eyes and cheekbones. I remembered those features about you from when we were teenagers and recognized you right away. It totally threw me that you and the man in my dreams were the same person. I feel you even though I don't have any idea of your life since my family left Henderson.”
Marek remembered Colin and his family had left town after Colin recovered from the beating. “I moved away too, not long after you did,” Marek shared. “I had an uncle in Pittsburgh who owned a scrap metal business. I started out working for him at the bottom of the chain. By the time he wanted to retire, I convinced him to let me take over the company and run it for him. I expanded, made him a lot more money, and when he died, he left it to me.” Then I lost Payton, and everything went to shit. Clearing his throat, Marek looked out to the ocean, staring at nothing. “I sold it a little over two years ago and moved here.”
Colin reached out and rubbed Marek's leg. “I'm sorry for your loss.”
He didn't know the half of it. “Thank you.”
“Your uncle isn't why you're living on this island though.” Colin trapped Marek's gaze in the steady hold of his.
There was no question in Colin's voice. Only certainly of his claim. Goose bumps popped up on Marek's legs, and a frisson of fear trickled down his back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that's not why you're grieving in my dreams. Your pain goes deeper than losing an uncle, Marek. You've lost a piece of your soul.” A flickering of knowledge passed over Colin's eyes, and then he said, “Tell me about Payton.”
Rage shot Marek off the ground in a flash, and he had his hand around Colin's neck, hauling him to his feet in the next. “What the fuck kind of game are you playing, you lying piece of shit? Coming in here saying you don't know anything about my life.” He got right in Colin's face, and his voice dipped dangerously savage and low. “Who the hell told you about Payton? Tell me.” Marek's entire body shook, and he swore he could do serious damage. “Now.”
Under the clamp of Marek's hand, Colin never blinked. “You did.”
Marek let go and staggered backward. Covering his mouth, he crumpled to his knees.
Chapter Seven
Oh God, I feel like I stabbed him in the heart.
Colin took a tentative step forward and dropped to his knees, reaching out to the other man. “Marek?” He touched his hand to Marek's forearm, and the temperature chilled his fingers. Shit. “Are you okay?”
“No. Huh-uh.” Marek batted Colin's hand away and shook his head. “I never would have told you about Payton. Not even in your dreams.” His pure blue eyes looked as big and frightening as a vast, endless wide-open ocean. “You said we didn't talk like that.”
The guy looked ravaged, and it tore Colin apart.
“Damn my mouth. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way.” Colin curled his hands against his thighs so that he didn't touch. “On your greenhouse door; you have Payton's Place carved into the wood, and there's a heart next to it. I told you I did research on this house, so I know the name of the man who built it for his wife, and I know her name too. Neither was Payton, and they never had children. Only one other couple has owned the place, the people before you, who let it fall apart, and neither of their names was Payton either. That leaves Payton as someone important to you.”
Marek nodded, and a yes formed on his lips with no voice behind it to give it sound.
He looks so fucking alone he makes my heart hurt, worse than in any of my dreams. Colin knew it was because this was real. A real man in real pain with no speculation or uncertainty attached to repeated dreams anymore.
Colin spread his knees to encase where Marek kneeled and, unable to help himself, cupped his cheek. Facial hair scratched at Colin's palm, but he brushed his thumb over smooth skin covering a sharp cheekbone. The man flinched, but didn't pull away.
“You didn't want me in the greenhouse earlier.” Colin pressed, compelled. “I could tell. Payton is why. Isn't he?”
Marek stared out at the ocean, unblinking, clearly a thousand miles away. He suddenly shook his head, his eyes cleared, and he scrambled back away from Colin, rushing to his feet. “No, huh-uh. You don't get Payton. I don't want to talk about him.” Marek walked backward to his house and took the stairs, all the while pointing at Colin's speedboat. “I want you to leave. Now.” He opened his front door.
“Wait!” Colin jumped up and
