Page 30 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

Of all the people I could imagine might ever say those words to me, Gabriel Gomez is at the bottom of the list. —Colin Templegate

“He never, ever should have been up on that ladder.”

Tom paces the waiting room, barely looking at me, barely looking at anything. I close my eyes and then quickly open them again.

Because every time I try to close my eyes, I see it again in my mind: Gabe losing his grip, falling from the ladder, catching his head and leg against the metal on his way down.

“Do you have any news?” Benson comes rushing into the room in a dress shirt and khakis. “I got over here from the office as fast as I could. Jack went to Devon Falls Elementary to pick up Lou. Is Gabe okay?”

Tom crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head. “No updates. The paramedics thought it was a broken leg and a concussion, but they’re looking at him now. The doctors removed us from the exam room,” he adds.

Benson snorts. “I can’t imagine why. You two look like the picture of calm right now.” Tom glares at him, and Benson holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I get it. You must have been terrified when he fell. But a broken leg and a concussion are both treatable. I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”

Tom sighs as he sinks down into the chair next to me.

His hand creeps toward mine across the fabric of his jeans, and I have to fight the urge to grab hold of it.

I just want to feel his hand against mine, to hold onto him tightly, to promise him that everything’s going to be okay.

Not long ago I wouldn’t have hesitated to grab my best friend’s hand for comfort, and it’s pissing me off that whatever weirdness I’ve been feeling around Tom has me pausing now. I start to inch my hand toward his.

Sam and Malachai appear in the doorway, with Bethany right behind them. I pull my hand back.

There’s a rush of conversation, but it all goes over my head—both literally and figuratively—as I sit in the hard plastic-backed chair breathing in and out, over and over again.

Anything to stop seeing the image in my head of Gabe, so still and so very silent, laid out on that backboard as paramedics wrapped a collar around his neck and shouted orders about pulses and breath sounds.

“Hey.” Sam’s standing above me now, frowning. “I just talked to the nurses at the station; they know Jack and me. They said he’s stable and his injuries look relatively minor. He’s going to be okay, Colin.”

Everyone keeps saying that. Paramedics. Doctors. Nurses.

But my brain fucking refuses to believe it.

Then Jack’s in the doorway, and Tom and I both stand up, ready to rush over and comfort Lou. Except—

Jack’s alone.

“We have a problem,” he says.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

Tom says the words softly, and they seem to drift through the room where Gabe lies between us.

Not the way he usually does, though. Not all sated and soft and melting in between our touches.

Right now, he’s wrapped in bandages and a large, long cast, stretched out across a hospital bed with plastic lines weaving in and out and around his body.

But Tom’s holding one of his hands, and I’m holding the other, and we’re told he should wake up soon.

He’s only sleeping because of the concussion, everyone says.

Jack and Benson had to have seen the way we both rushed to Gabe’s side and grabbed his hands when the four of us got to this room, but they haven’t asked any questions about how close either of us are with Gabe these days.

I wonder how that conversation will go if they ever do ask.

I wonder what they’d say if they knew about the arrangement the three of us have.

I wonder what Sam and Malachai and Bethany would say.

But those wouldn’t even be the most important conversations we’d have to have today. No. First we have to have a much, much harder one.

One of Gabe’s eyes slowly starts to flutter open. Then the other. He blinks and looks around, getting his bearings, as Tom brushes a hand against his cheek. “You’re finally awake, little one,” he whispers.

Gabe’s eyes go wide as they travel around the room. “I’m still in the hospital,” he finally manages to say.

I nod. “You are. You’re in the hospital over in Fairlington. You’re a little drugged up, and you managed to knock your head and your leg on that ladder pretty good when you fell off of it. But you’re going to be okay.”

Gabe blinks. “Lou!” He says the word in a rush and tries to sit up, but Tom and I manage to gently keep him on the bed.

“Lou’s okay,” I assure him. “He’s safe. But. There is something we have to tell you.”

Gabe closes his eyes. “No. No… no… no,” he whispers.

He knows. He knows what we’re about to tell him—or some version of it, anyway. Every muscle in my body aches with pain for him as I listen to the words Jack starts to say to him.

“I went to the school to pick Lou up,” he says. “But I’m not on his pick-up list, of course, and you know how seriously any school has to take a child’s pick-up list. So they called Dave to get his permission for me to take Lou.”

Gabe lets out a low, small noise, like that of a wounded animal. Tom squeezes his hand tightly, and I bring my other hand up to rest on his uninjured leg.

Jack sighs. “I’m not sure exactly what Dave said to them.

But I know he wouldn’t give them permission to release him to me.

” He shakes his head. “And Gabe. I know they told him not to let me bring Lou to you in the hospital. I’m not sure where Dave is or when he’s coming back to Devon Falls, but Gabe…

I think the school may decide to call social services and let them sort all of this out. ”

The noise Gabe lets out then is so guttural, so laced with pain, that Tom and I both grab hold of him from either side and cling to his body as he sobs. “Lou,” he whispers through the tears. “Lou. I screwed up. I lost him.”

“You haven’t.” Benson shakes his head. “That’s why I’m here.

Gabe, I know you feel like shit right now, but you have to tell us the whole story.

I need to know why Dave wouldn’t let Jack bring Lou to you today.

Everyone in town knows you’re basically Lou’s second caretaker. What the hell is going on?”

Gabe makes a strangled noise. I squeeze his hand and rub my thumb against his palm.

Benson takes a step closer to Gabe’s bed. “Listen, Gabe. I know there has to be a good reason you don’t want to talk about all of this. But I hope you will. Because if you do, maybe there’s a chance we can help keep you and Lou together.”

Gabe blinks, and I move to brush back the tears that are falling down his face now. “Okay,” he finally says softly. “Okay.”

The story comes out slowly, in pieces, because Gabe’s on strong drugs and the words aren’t flowing well for him. But we get there. Some of it, I already know. Some of it, I’ve never heard before.

He tells us how his mom got sick right after Lou was born and how Dave went downhill from there.

He tells us about being left behind in foster care after his mom died and about Dave taking Lou to Vermont.

He tells us how he came to Vermont after he aged out of the system and did everything he could to be part of Lou’s life again.

I grit my teeth and manage not to punch the wall whenever his asshole stepfather’s name comes up in a sentence.

And then he tells us more.

He tells us how he started to worry more and more about the kind of dad Dave was.

He tells us all about Dave disappearing for weeks and months at a time.

He tells us about the things Dave’s been saying to Lou.

Comments about his clothes, his favorite toys, his favorite games.

It’s an absolute miracle I don’t put three or four holes into the wall of the Fairlington hospital when he gets to that part.

He tells us about Dave leaving for Rochester, and about Dave’s threats to take Lou out of Gabe’s life.

“Little fox, I don’t understand why you kept so much of this a secret,” Tom finally says to him. “Why didn’t you want to tell anyone how bad things had gotten? This is Devon Falls. The people here love Lou. They love you, Gabe.” I hear the unspoken part of that sentence on his lips.

We love you, Gabe.

Gabe purses his lips and shakes his head. “Because I was worried the state would never, ever give me custody of Lou if they found out I was acting as his primary caretaker.” He sinks down into the bed, into himself. “I have a record,” he says quietly.

“Excuse me?” I blurt out. “You?” Because of all the people I could imagine might ever say those words to me, Gabriel Gomez is at the bottom of the list.

Gabe gulps. “It happened after I aged out of the system. Money was really tight,” he goes on.

“I was trying to save up to come to Vermont, so I ended up moving in with this guy because the rent was cheap. What I didn’t realize was that he was dealing out of the apartment.

And he was working with some pretty nasty stuff. ”

I see Benson’s got his phone out now, taking notes. Good. If anyone can help us fix this mess, it’s him.

Gabe shakes his head. “I didn’t even know what he was doing until the cops busted him.

But he’d hidden a bunch of illegal stuff in our apartment, in my room, and he said it was mine to keep his charges lower or whatever.

The lawyer the court assigned me said it would be too hard to prove I didn’t even know what was going on in the apartment, and he pushed me to take a misdemeanor charge. ”

“Fucker,” I mutter.

“What an absolute travesty of an attorney,” Tom adds.

Gabe shrugs. “I figured I had to listen and do what he said. It’s not like I had money for another lawyer. And the court only gave me community service.” He lets out a small laugh. “The judge really liked me. She said I smiled more than anyone else she’d ever seen in a courtroom.”

“Okay,” Benson says. “Well, a misdemeanor drug charge isn’t the end of the world, Gabe.

I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse. We can work with this.

Especially given that you’re Lou’s brother and there’s a serious case to be made here against Dave for child neglect.

” He types something else out on his phone before he locks it and drops back into his pocket.

“I’ve already got Ellie working on this; she knows people at the state offices. Jack, should we tell them?”

Jack looks at the three of us and hesitates. Then he nods.

“Tell us what?” Tom asks.

“Gabe,” Benson says, “I’m going to assume that part of the reason you’ve tried to keep the peace with Dave is that you had a lot of fears about Lou being placed in foster care if he was removed from Dave’s custody. Am I right about that?”

“I mean, yes?” Gabe blinks. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Benson looks at Jack, who gives us a weak smile. “Benson and I,” Jack says, “recently became licensed foster parents in the state of Vermont.”

We all stare at them. “You never thought to mention this to anyone?” Tom finally says.

Jack shrugs. “We weren’t sure if or when we’d be ready to take on placements.”

“And we knew if we told anyone it would be the first story on the town message board,” Benson adds drily.

“But Gabe,” Jack goes on, “it seems like things are escalating with Dave, and with it looking like a possibility that Lou will be placed in care… would you be comfortable with me and Benson requesting that he stay with us?”

Tears are running down Gabe’s face right now, fast, and it’s all I can do not to wrap his injured body and soul up in my arms and hold him as close to me as I can. “Please,” he whispers. “Please.”

Benson nods. “Okay,” he says. “Jack, let’s go. We need to get moving here, fast. We’ll text you all as soon as we have any news, okay?”

The three of us nod, and Jack and Benson disappear from the room. “Little fox,” Tom whispers. “I’m so sorry that—”

But Gabe pulls his hands away from both of ours, and mine feels suddenly empty and cold. “Please,” he whispers. “I need a minute, okay?” He closes his eyes as he wraps his arms around his chest. Tom and I hesitate as we look across at each other.

Should we?

I’m not sure. He needs us.

“Please,” Gabe goes on. “I just… I don’t know what all of this means. I don’t know what any of this means.” He shakes his head. “I’m used to doing things on my own. I’ve had to do them on my own for a long time. And right now, I just need a minute to try and figure all this out on my own.”

Those are the words that echo through my ears as I step through the doorway of his room, with Tom in front of me, and shut it behind me. The metal closes against its frame with a long click that echoes in my ears for hours.