Snow Storm

Chapter 19

Claude

“Hey, boss?”

Claude looked up from the stack of papers sitting on the front desk. Charlie was standing in front of him, looking worried. “What happened?”

Nothing should be wrong. The hotel was in good shape, the animals were all fine, and nothing had been damaged by the snowstorm. In fact, the county already had plows heading up to clear the roads, which meant his current guests could leave.

It also meant Harley could leave, but he was putting a pin in that to deal with it later.

“Your man’s outside looking a little…lost. And probably real damn cold.”

Claude’s gaze snapped toward the front window, but all he saw was the barely shoveled parking lot. Then he realized Charlie was pointing behind him. He twisted and finally found what his foreman was talking about. A bundled figure was sitting on one of the patio chairs, hunched into himself, and there was no one it could be except Harley.

“Go,” Charlie said. “I’ll drop these off with Aminah, and she can finish them.”

Claude hesitated. “I don’t want everyone else taking on extra work because of my personal life.”

Charlie lifted a brow at him. “You’ve been killing yourself with running this place for the last seven years, boss. Go make sure that adorable man who clearly likes you isn’t going to freeze to death.”

Part of Claude wanted to argue. One of the reasons he’d avoided relationships for so long was this right here—someone coming between him and his business. But it was also Harley. If something was wrong, it was really wrong.

His heart twisted in his chest, and he grabbed his coat and his cane, managing to wrap himself up just before he reached the door. The wind was high, and with the sun out and no clouds to keep in what little warmth there was, it was frigid.

He sucked in a sharp breath, then made his way over the icy patio to where Harley was hunched down.

“You know there’s a fireplace inside, right?”

Harley didn’t look up, but he nodded. “I know. I, uh…I was afraid if I came in and warmed up, I’d have a panic attack.”

“You can’t stay out here much longer. It’s not safe.”

“I know. I just…I don’t know what to do. It’s all too much.”

“Harley. Look at me.” He did, and Claude saw his eyes were red and his nose was glowing pink. “What if you had a panic attack in my arms? If you can’t avoid it, would it be better to be somewhere you felt safe?”

“Is anyone inside?” Harley asked very quietly.

Claude shook his head. “Only Charlie, but he’s just dropping papers off to Aminah’s office, and then he’s heading to his cabin.”

Harley took that all in, then eventually stood on shaking legs. Claude wrapped his hand around Harley’s arm and guided him to the door, then let him slowly step inside. Moving from harsh cold to soft warmth was a lot, and he knew his lover would need a moment.

He shed his coat, then eventually helped Harley take his off, and the two of them made their way down to the sofas. The fire was low, but it was warm, and the tree lights were off, the sun through the windows glinting off the tinsel in the garland.

It had that odd, empty feeling of after Christmas. All the magic was slowly draining away, giving way to the monotony of the new year.

Claude knew most people hated it, but he didn’t. It allowed him to breathe a little easier.

“I think I’m okay,” Harley said as the pair of them sat. He kept space between them, but Claude wasn’t having that.

“That’s fine, but I’d like you here.” He spread his legs and urged Harley to curl up against him. It felt good to wrap around him and hold him. It felt right. He just wished his beloved wasn’t hurting. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

Harley said nothing for a long time. He rested his ear over Claude’s chest and worried his bottom lip until it began to plump. It wasn’t going to bleed if he wasn’t careful, so Claude used his fingers to pull it out from between his teeth.

“May I ask you a question?” Harley said in a very small voice.

“Always.”

“Will you give me an honest answer, even if it hurts?” Harley pressed.

Claude considered it. He wasn’t actually sure because it went against his very nature to hurt this man. But Harley deserved honesty. “Yes.”

A deep breath shifted Harley’s body against him, and then he said, “Do you think I have…tendencies of a sociopath?”

Claude almost choked on his own tongue. “I’m sorry, what?”

Harley let out a laugh, but it sounded closer to a sob. “A sociopath. It’s someone that?—”

“No, I know what a sociopath is,” Claude told him. He reached down and tipped Harley’s chin up. “Why the hell would you think you are one?”

“I don’t…I don’t necessarily think I am one. I’m just wondering if sometimes I act like one. Or, you know…like maybe I have traits, or…”

“Where is this coming from?”

Harley’s gaze darted away. “I talked to my brother today.”

“And he called you this?”

“No,” Harley said with a bitter laugh. “No. He said my ex has been saying stuff about me online, and he told me not to look?—”

“So the first thing you did was investigate,” Claude finished for him. In spite of the shitty circumstances, he was overcome with affection and joy that he knew his lover well enough to predict him.

Harley bowed his head. “I know I should have just blocked the thought and moved on.”

“But you didn’t.”

Harley buried his face in Claude’s chest. “No.”

Tightening his arms around his lover, Claude held him for a good, long while. And when his body had finally relaxed, he stroked a hand up and down his spine. “What did he say?”

Harley scoffed and lifted his head. “He wrote an entire exposé about his relationship with me. And, like, eighty percent of it was bullshit. He also conveniently left off the fact that he was screwing our therapist and is now engaged to him and planning to have our wedding but with him as the groom.”

Claude jolted. He hadn’t realized Harley’s relationship with Darren had been that serious. He knew he’d been engaged, but the whole wedding was planned? Harley didn’t seem broken over it though. Not like a man who was in love enough to get married should have been.

Was that why Darren was calling him a sociopath?

“May I read it?”

Harley’s shoulders hunched up toward his ears. “What if you think he’s got some good points? If it’s true, I’ll see someone for it. I’d never want to be in a relationship if what he said about me is right. And I’m freaking out because maybe I was blind to my faults for all these years, and?—”

“Mon ame.”

Harley stopped talking and swallowed heavily. “Yeah?”

“Someone who is all of those things—who has those traits, who doesn’t feel emotions or guilt or empathy—they rarely question that about themselves. I’m not an expert. I won’t pretend to be one, and if you want to talk to someone about it, you should. But from what I’ve seen so far, that’s not you. I think your ex saw you were happier without him—that you were loved without him—and he wanted to hurt you.”

Harley closed his eyes and laid his head back down. “That’s what I told myself. But then I got scared.”

“You have every right to feel scared, but I wouldn’t take risks with my heart on someone I thought might not treat it kindly.”

Harley let out a soft hum and turned his face, kissing Claude over the beat of his heart. “I’d like you to read it. But…maybe not ’til later?”

“Whenever you want. Why don’t I take the rest of the day off, and you and I can be together.”

Harley’s head shot up. “But you said you had work. I don’t want to screw anything up for you.”

“Someone pointed to me that I’ve neglected myself a lot over the years and that maybe now that I’ve found someone good and worthy of my time, I should be focusing on that for a little while.”

“And you agree?”

Claude smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Yes,” he said against Harley’s lips. “I very much agree.”

Harley wanted some space to himself, so he went to the room he was no longer really using, and Claude went to his office. He paced for as long as his legs could stand it, and then he sat in his chair and spun from side to side until he gave in to the pressing need to find out what this monster had said about the man he loved.

And Harley was the man he loved.

It took him all of twenty-eight seconds to find the article. It had been shared by smaller news sources—some as op-ed, some as smear campaigns who tended to latch on to celebrity gossip when the coffers were running low. The article was poorly written—flowery prose in an attempt to make Harley’s ex sound more intelligent and cover up the fact that he was projecting.

Because it was very, very obvious that the man capable of doing all those things to Harley was, in fact, the one who lacked basic empathy and the ability to be kind. Anabelle had hurt him in ways he still didn’t have words for, but she’d hated herself for it more than he ever hated her.

This was a man who was thriving off the spotlight at the expense of a man who didn’t deserve it. And Claude was very much done with this whole mess. He wasn’t a man with a lot of pull or even a lot of money. But he did know someone who might have connections.

“Do you know what time it is here?”

“I always know what time it is there when I phone you,” Harley said. Dorsey sounded more drunk than sleepy. “I also know you’re probably deep into your second pint.”

Dorsey laughed. “Ah, how well you know me. So, what can I do for you this lovely Boxing Day. Night. Whatever.”

Claude stroked fingers over his chin as he considered his words carefully, then laid out the plan for Dorsey. His cousin’s silence meant that he was either impressed or concerned.

“So you want me to change my flight?”

“I do.”

“To use my very unique methods to stop a man from harassing this poor bloke you think you’re in love with.”

“Not think,” Claude corrected. “Am. Deeply. And totally.”

Dorsey sighed. “You’re lucky I’m a secret romantic.”

Claude smiled. “Can you do it?”

“Now, that’s insulting,” Dorsey said with a sniff. “I could do it pissed and blindfolded in a city I’ve never been to before. You know my one real joy in life is making men piss themselves.”

“I worry about you,” Claude said with a sigh, but he loved his cousin deeply. “I appreciate this.”

“If this man has you arse over tit in ways you never have been before, I’ll plan the fuckin’ wedding,” Dorsey said. Claude could hear him gulping his Guinness. “Mam will also want to come down for it. You’ll not stop her this time.”

Claude chuckled. “Give us a year or two, at least. I want to take this at a pace he’s comfortable with.”

“You’re too reasonable. It’s annoying. Anyway, send me the address and a photo of this prick, and I’ll hunt him down.”

“Thank you,” Claude said. He was going to give that task to Lyric. She’d have access to Harley’s accounts soon enough, and she could get the information. Harley might hate him a bit for it, for meddling, but he didn’t think it would be enough to ruin what they had. And if it meant his beloved could sleep easier at night, he’d take it.

He hung up, then sat back in his chair, and just as his eyes started to close, his phone buzzed with a text.

Harley: I don’t want to be alone. Can you come back?

Claude: I’ll be right there.

And he would. Anytime Harley asked. It was the one vow he could make right then he knew that only God Himself could force him to break.