Page 35 of Private Exhibit (Gentleman Hackers #4)

DEVON WOKE the next morning with his pajamas sticking to him all over. Ugh. Damn it . With Andy spooned up behind him and too many blankets covering them both, it felt worse than the middle of summer.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried to squirm, but his body wouldn't cooperate beyond a twitch in his right shoulder. Devon panted. He had to get out of that bed.

But Andy had been up late too many nights in a row, and Devon had seen it written all over the man's face. Andy was exhausted. Devon couldn't bear to wake him up.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the vase of snapdragons on the nightstand. They were still there, right where they'd left them.

The sight should have cheered him up, except the flowers were already starting to wilt. Devon squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn't stop himself from bursting into tears.

He didn't want to have the flowers thrown out, discarded as though they meant nothing. But he also wanted it over with. He couldn't bear to watch them slowly fade away.

“Dev?” Andy groaned. He gave a big yawn, then pushed himself up, hovering over Devon. “Baby? What's wrong?”

Devon choked out a sob.

“Baby?” Andy gasped, sounding more alert.

Devon shook his head, but he didn't say anything. His brain was so full of too many things bombarding him at once that producing words seemed impossible.

Andy wrapped himself around Devon. “It's gonna be alright, sweet boy.

It'll be alright.” He pulled away and coughed, then threw back the covers, giving Devon a hint of relief from the stifling heat.

Andy touched him all over, the contact assessing and clinical.

“Come on,” Andy murmured. “Let's get you a bath, and then we'll have some coffee.”

Devon was silent as Andy went through the motions of picking him up, carrying him to the washroom, getting him undressed, and setting him in the bath to wash off all the sweat.

Andy made the whole process look effortless but also so wholly impersonal.

Devon inwardly cursed. He didn't want to be Andy's patient.

But it was over before he knew it. Andy had him dried off, dressed, and in the wheelchair in no time at all. A few minutes after that, he was parked at the dining table with a mug of coffee sitting in front of him.

Of course, Andy had to help him drink it since Devon couldn't pick up the mug himself.

Oliver padded into the room, covering a yawn. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Andy replied. “Help yourself to whatever you want.”

Oliver paused. “Mind if I make breakfast?”

“Please,” Andy said, gesturing at the kitchen. “By all means.”

Oliver wandered off and started hunting through the cupboards, pulling out a frying pan and a carton of eggs.

Devon watched him in silence. It wasn't so different from the way things had been at their apartment.

Oliver had always done all the cooking and most of the chores as part of their arrangement, but this felt foreign.

Alien. Devon looked around and winced. He wasn't used to his surroundings yet.

Hells, he probably wouldn't get the chance.

Even if he did, he couldn't imagine getting used to Andy's place. It was so empty. So lifeless.

“Dev?” Andy asked. “You want more coffee?”

Before Devon could answer, Oliver's phone beeped. Oliver rushed over to the table and snatched it up, his eyes going wide at whatever was on the screen.

“What's wrong?” Devon asked.

“Nothing,” Oliver answered a little too quickly. He glanced at the stove, then blurted out, “Be right back.” He ran off towards his room.

Devon frowned. What was that all about?

“Dev?” Andy asked.

“He's keeping secrets from me again,” Devon mumbled, staring at the spot where Oliver had rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

“What do you mean?” Andy asked. He picked up the mug and held it to Devon's mouth, helping him take a few sips.

Devon carefully swallowed, then shook his head. “Shit. Dannika. I still haven't told him.”

Andy tilted his head. “You mean that file you looked up?”

“Yeah. Oli had been trying to figure out who drove her to kill herself, and he was real secretive about it.

I saw him acting strangely and leaving the apartment at a moment's notice with no explanation, but he never told me where he was going or why.” Devon frowned.

“It wasn't until he wrongly accused Thomas and the whole thing blew up in his face that I finally learned what was going on.” Devon looked back in the direction Oliver had gone.

“I thought he'd given it all up. He's been so depressed, not having any answers, but that big blow-up took all the fight out of him.” Devon paused. “Or at least I thought it had.”

Andy helped him take another sip of coffee. “Do you not want him to look into it?”

“No. I mean, yeah. Of course I do. I want him to have closure. It's just…other than that, Oli has never kept secrets from me. He's told me everything. I don't get it.” Devon flung out his left arm in frustration.

Andy jerked upright in his seat. “Dev?”

Devon blinked. It took him a moment to realize what he'd just done. He gasped and held his breath, then slowly and deliberately lifted his arm. Holy shit . He could move! Not much. And it was his non-dominant arm, which would still make things difficult. But it was something.

He carefully reached out, grabbed the handle on his coffee mug, and brought it to his mouth.

Andy's face shone with relief. “Thank gods,” he breathed. “Maybe you're coming out of it.”

Devon almost managed a smile of his own as he set the mug back down.

Oliver breezed back into the room, bent over his phone as he rapidly typed a long text message. He shoved the phone into the pocket of his flannel pants and jumped right back into making breakfast as though he'd never left.

Devon watched him in silence. Shit . Should he tell Oliver what he'd found in Dannika's file? Would it be enough? Or would it just make Oliver more desperate to know everything?

Andy leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dev? What's wrong?”

Devon squirmed. “What if he never finds all the answers?”

Andy stilled, then gulped down the rest of his coffee and got up. “Oliver?” he called as he headed for the kitchen and dropped his mug in the sink. “I'm going out.”

Oliver looked up from the stove and blinked. “Right-o.” He glanced at Devon. “Don't worry. I got this.”

Andy nodded in thanks, then breezed back by the table and pressed a kiss on the top of Devon's head before fleeing to his bedroom. A few minutes later, he came back out, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Andy snatched up his wallet and keys, then flew out the front door.

Devon winced.

“Hey,” Oliver called. “Hungry?”

No . Devon opened his mouth, ready to blurt out what he'd learned about Dannika, then stopped himself. He couldn't bear to see the look on Oliver's face once he explained how his friend died. Devon's stomach turned. “Yeah,” he answered dutifully.

Oliver grinned and set a plate down in front of him.

Devon picked up a fork, struggling to hold it with his left hand. He ate mechanically, forcing down every bite, praying that it wouldn't come right back up in an hour.

Oliver sat across from him, hidden behind their monitors. The dining table was set up exactly like it had been at their apartment, but the whole thing looked completely wrong.

Devon eyed his computers. He hadn't bothered turning them on yet since he couldn't use them. But what about now? Typing one-handed would be difficult, but at least he'd have a distraction.

He started to reach for the power button, then drew his hand back and picked up his fork again instead. There was no point in trying. He wouldn't be able to type well enough to work on any hacking jobs, and knowing his luck, the chatroom would be empty again.

Devon finished his breakfast and pushed the plate aside.

He idly listened to Oliver typing away on the other side of the table. Every half hour or so, Oliver would stop, jump up, see if Devon needed anything, then go right back to whatever he was doing.

Devon sat in silence and gazed out the window until Oliver finally took a break, suggesting they watch a movie instead.

Oliver rolled the chair over beside the couch, grabbed the remote, and scrolled through the various menus.

The day slowly drifted away with mindless distractions, broken only by Oliver helping Devon eat or relieve himself.

The next few days were more of the same.

Andy got up early and went to work, then came home just as Oliver was putting Devon to bed.

All the hours in between were spent in near silence.

Devon had nothing to do but sit and wait for the inevitable, surrounded by blank, white walls that began to feel as sterile as the hospital itself.

At the end of the week, Andy was about to rush off to work when he stopped and turned to look at Devon instead. Before Devon could ask what the man was thinking, Andy strode up to him and grabbed the chair. “You're coming with me. Both of you,” he added, looking at Oliver.

Devon grimaced. As much as he wanted to spend time with Andy, it wouldn't be any different at the hospital than it was there. He'd be stuck sitting around with nothing to do.

“I'd like to run some tests,” Andy quickly added.

Devon blinked. “What?”

“Please,” Andy said, crouching down to look up at him. “I've been over those files so many times, I can't see straight. And I can't find anything. Maybe your scans will show something new–”

Devon shook his head. “I don't want to be your patient.”

Andy winced. “I know.” He rubbed Devon's thighs, but Devon couldn't feel it. “But I have to find something. I have to. And if the answer isn't in all of those scans, it might be in yours.” He paused. “Let's at least get you out of the apartment for a few hours.”

Devon stilled at that. His gaze went straight to the nearest window.

There wasn't anything to see from that angle but other soaring skyscrapers nearby.

He missed the plants. The colors. The textures.

Whether there or at the hospital, he'd be stuck looking at plain, white walls, but in between? “Alright,” he agreed.

Andy smiled at him. “That's my good boy.” He stood up. “Come on.”

Devon let Andy and Oliver take him downstairs and put him into the car. They'd barely pulled out of the garage when his phone vibrated.

Andy fished it out for him and handed it over. “Hayden?” he asked.

Devon held the phone awkwardly with his left hand. “No,” he replied, frowning at the screen. It was a new message from Grim .

[BLOCKED] : You doing alright? I see you're finally going back to work.

“How–” Devon began, then breathed a laugh and shook his head. How did Grim always just know these things?

[BLOCKED] : Haven't seen you online lately, either. How bad is it?

Devon stared at the screen. Somehow, he just knew that Grim was aware of his condition. How that was possible was beyond him. He set the phone on his lap and struggled through typing a response.

Me : I can barely type left-handed.

[BLOCKED] : Shit. Gerard having any luck finding anything?

Devon snuck a glance at Andy, who was staring out the window, scratching his chin, looking deep in thought.

Me : Not really.

[BLOCKED] : So it's getting worse?

Me : Yeah.

Devon waited, but nothing more came through. A moment later, he heard Oliver's phone beep from the back seat. Devon looked back and saw Oliver rush to snatch his phone out of his pocket, his gaze intense as he read whatever was on the screen.

“Who's that?” Devon asked.

“Nobody,” Oliver blurted out. He quickly typed something, then put his phone away, turning to stare out the window.

Devon turned the other way, hoping the sight of the lush city would distract him.

Except the car turned off the street and into the hospital's underground parking garage. Devon barely caught a glimpse of something green whizzing by in a hurry, too fast to truly appreciate. He'd entirely missed the view, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He almost wished the whole ordeal could be over already just so he could get his mobility back.