Goddammit. “No.”
“Would I ever do anything to hurt you intentionally?”
Feelings suck ass. “No.”
“Then why the fuck would you not believe this?” he asked, outraged.
“Yeah,” Corey said. “Why the fuck?”
“You know what?” Vince said. “I’m with them. Why the heck?”
And that was the crux of it, really. I was not a stupid man. I knew things. I knew many things (granted, most of it was useless information, but whatever). But even I could see that I was being an idiot about this whole thing. It wasn’t necessarily a Come-To-Jesus moment, as it’d been building far too long for a lightning-struck epiphany out of nowhere, but it was close. Darren as I saw him now could say whatever he wanted until he was blue in the face, and I probably wouldn’t have trusted it. Corey and Vince could try and convince me of his good intentions for hours on end, and I might not have believed them.
But Paul?
Paul was different. Vince and Corey were part of my family, but Paul was more than that. He was the one I trusted the most, the one I knew would never steer me wrong, even if we somehow found ourselves far off course (which, honestly, we often were). That’s just who he was. Even when Vince came into our lives and Paul was worrying about how someone could actually fall in love with him, he never left me behind in the dust. In fact, he even went as far to make sure I wasn’t jealous of his newfound hot piece of ass.
Paul was loud. He was obnoxious. He was crass and rude and self-deprecating to the point it made you want to pull your hair out.
But he was also one of the greatest people I knew.
He was my family.
My bottom lip wobbled.
Paul’s breath hitched in his chest.
“Oh no,” Vince breathed.
“What’s happening?” Corey asked, eyes wide.
“They’re getting emotional,” Vince said, sounding scared. “It happens every now and then. You need to run. Save yourself.”
“What about you?” Corey asked.
“It’s too late for me,” Vince said, resigned to his fate. “Paul will never let me go. You have to get out of here, Corey. Jesus Christ, go!”
A big tear slid down Paul’s cheek right as he snapped his hand out and grabbed Corey by the arm, holding him in place.
“What’s happening!” Corey squeaked, struggling in Paul’s grip.
“We would really appreciate if you were here with us for emotional support,” Paul said, voice cracking.
Vince sighed. “You should have left when I told you. It’s too late now. All you can do is let it happen.”
Corey tried to pull his arm away, but Paul held fast. “That sounds like something someone would say after they’ve roofied me.”
“It’s pretty much the same,” Vince said. “It’s extremely uncomfortable, there are a lot of bodily fluids, and it’s easier when you don’t try and fight it. It’ll be over soon.”
“I do trust you,” I said roughly.
“Do you?” Paul tried to wipe his face, but didn’t want to let go of Vince or Corey, so he brought up Corey’s hand and used that instead.
“Is that your snot?” Corey shrieked.
We ignored him. “You know I do,” I said. “I promise. I trust you.”
“Then why did you do this? Why did you keep this from me?”