Page 32 of Something Like Hail

Noah’s arms went loose and he sighed. “Justdrop it, okay?”

Anger would have sucked. Hurt tears wouldhave been difficult to deal with, but Ryan looked excited, whichwas worst of all. “Have you seen him?”

“Who?” Noah said, knowingdamn well who he meant. “Marcello? We talked for five minutes whenI applied. That was it.”

“Not him,” Ryan said.“Tim.”

“Why would I see him?” Noahsnapped. “He isn’t a client, as far as I know. I don’t think heeven works for Marcello, so no, I haven’t seen Tim and doubt I everwill.”

“You could give him aletter,” Ryan continued unabashed. “Marcello, I mean. You couldgive him a letter, and he could give it to Tim. It would have to befrom you. If they saw it was from me…” He reached out and tookNoah’s hand. “You’ll do it, right? Please! I need to clear myconscience.”

Noah sighed. “You’re not supposed to haveany contact with him.”

“I need this,” Ryan said,gripping his hand tighter. “If I’m going to move on, there arethings I need to say to him.”

Like what?Sorry I shot you and held your boyfriendhostage. How would that help anyone? Thenagain, those blue eyes were pleading, and Noah didn’t see anythingmalicious in them. Instead they were sad and on the verge oftears.

He exhaled.“Fine.”

Ryan perked up. “You’ll do it?”

Noah clenched his jaw, hesitating again.Then he nodded. “Yeah.”

Ryan leapt to his feet. “I need paper. And apen.”

“You can mail it to me,”Noah said, but it was no use. Ryan had already rushed over to oneof the prison guards, engaging in a conversation that becameincreasingly heated. Eventually Ryan spun around, face twisted withanger, and headed back toward him. That didn’t bring back goodmemories either. Ryan had always gotten agitated when the subjectof Tim Wyman came up. At first this hadn’t seemed so unusual. Mostpeople felt emotional when discussing previous relationships,especially those that hadn’t ended well. Ryan took it to anentirely new level. He became obsessed, eventually disappearing fortwo weeks. Worried about an overdose or worse, Noah called thepolice and discovered that Ryan had been arrested for shootingTim.

Noah never doubted his guilt. As much as heloved Ryan and wanted to believe in him, Noah had all too oftenglimpsed a shadow-side to his personality. At the time he hadalmost felt relief, thinking Ryan might spend a few months behindbars, sober up, and come to his senses. Tim hadn’t died. It wasn’tmurder. Noah sold the car, hired an attorney to make sure that hewas given a fair trial, and then it all went to hell. According toRyan, Marcello had hired an even better lawyer and manipulatedevents to make sure he received the severest sentence.

“That stupid asshole won’tlet me go back to my cell for one minute, and god fucking forbid heask Officer Dipshit over there to—”

“Stop,” Noah saidsoftly.

“—grab some paper, becauseI guess they don’t pay him enough and—”

“Please!” Noah said,already noticing multiple guards tensing at Ryan’s behavior. “Icame all this way to see you. Don’t let them take that away fromus.”

Ryan glared, but he satagain. “I havegotto get out of here.”

“I wish you could,” Noahsaid honestly. “Just focus on me. Have some more chips.”

Ryan didn’t seem to hear him, still fixated.“I’ll mail you the letter, like you said. And then you can—Marcello is nosy. Even if the letter is from you, he’ll probablystill read it. No, you better give it directly to Tim.”

“That’s not what I agreedto!”

“Please!” Ryan said.“You’re my only chance.”

He sighed. “How am I supposed to findTim?”

Ryan shook his head. “He works at a gallery.I was high out of my mind, so I can’t remember which one, but ifyou search online, you should find it.”

“That was years ago,” Noahsaid. “He might not be there anymore. He might not even live inAustin! Can’t you just let it go?”

“No,” Ryan said firmly. “IfI could, I would. This is the only way.”

“Fine.” Noah focuseddisinterestedly on the vending machines instead of the personacross from him. What was the point in making conversation whenRyan was only interested in one subject? At first this protestdidn’t seem to register, but eventually Ryan spokeagain.

“Hey, remember the time wehopped the fence of that country club?”