Page 47 of Something Like Hail

He scowled as he scanned the paragraphagain. “Who’s Eric?”

“That’s none of yourconcern. Were you aware of Ryan’s intent?”

Noah shook his head, not understanding. Thenhe saw the line about testimony again. “Why would he want Tim totestify? The trial ended years ago.”

Marcello scrutinized him. “You truly weren’taware? Ryan didn’t confide in you about his plans?”

Noah started flipping through the letter,searching for keywords. “He didn’t say anything to me last weekwhen I visited.”

“He intends to file anappeal.”

Noah looked up. “Will that work?”

“That depends on his goal.A reduced sentence? Perhaps. His immediate release? I sincerelydoubt it. Not while blood still pumps through theseveins.”

“What are you going todo?”

Marcello considered him. “I’m still decidingif I should trust you or not.”

Noah didn’t know how to prove himself. Trustusually came with time and experience, and they had very little ofeither together. He supposed the one thing he could do was finallyanswer Marcello’s initial question. “After my parents kicked meout, I stayed with friends I had been chatting with online. Bystay, I mean I would park in front of their house and sleep in mycar. Part of me liked the freedom, the rest was still hurting. Thatchanged when I met Ryan. He made me feel loved. I don’t think thatwas a lie, and I definitely loved him back. The drugs changed him.Me too, I guess, because I started questioning our relationship. Wewere together for almost two years at this point. We got into areally bad argument just before he disappeared. That’s when Ryanshot Tim. You’ll probably hate me for what I say next, but I knewnobody else would be there for him. Not his family, that’s forsure, and Ryan didn’t have many friends. Love is supposed to beunconditional. As far as I was concerned, all was forgiven. Timhadn’t died. I thought jail would force Ryan to get clean so wecould start over. I sold my car to pay for his lawyer, not that ithelped. Ryan was locked up anyway, and I was left with even lessthan before. It sucked to lose the car, but what I really missedwas him. The streets are a lot scarier on your own. I survivedthough. Not that I didn’t run into trouble.”

He looked over to see if Marcello was eveninterested in his story anymore. He had the older man’s fullattention. Marcello even nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”

Noah hesitated, eyes darting to the driver.“This is where it gets personal. For both of us.”

“I understand. Charles,would you mind?”

The driver nodded and stepped out of thecar. The keys remained in the ignition, the air conditioner stillrunning.

Noah swallowed. “I stay at a homelessshelter downtown called Jerusalem.”

“I’m familiar with it,”Marcello said.

“Oh. Well, one night abouta month ago, I had missed dinner because I dozed off in a park. Iwas hungry. Starving. Another homeless guy sitting next to me on abench heard my stomach growling and offered me food. Kind of. Heshowed me the food, but then he asked me to—” Noah hesitated beforeremembering who he was talking to. “He wanted to suck my dick. Ididn’t let him. I barely slept that night I was so hungry, but Ikept telling myself I was worth more. Then I started asking myselfhow much. I knew I had a price. More than a couple slices ofbologna and some stale bread, that’s for sure. Ryan had told meabout your escort service. More like ranted, especially once he waslocked up. He blames you for a lot of things.”

Marcello sniffed. “My conscience is clear. Idid nothing to him save inform Tim when Ryan started havingunprotected sex with virtual strangers. Once you settled on yourplan, did you inform Ryan of your intent to seek me out?”

“No. He just found out lastweek. I didn’t want him to know at all. I’m guessing you think Iwanted to infiltrate your business, maybe so we could blackmailyou. I swear there’s nothing going on like that.”

“Maybe not, but the heartis a fickle thing. You might decide that you want Ryan back afterall. If I let things continue the way they have, I would be puttingmyself in an increasingly vulnerable position.”

“That won’thappen!”

Marcello patted his hand as if he were beingnaïve. “It might. You can’t guarantee that it won’t.”

“I can,” Noah said, pullinghis hand away. He knew what he needed to say, his throat tight withanticipation. “It won’t happen because all my heart cares about issomeone else.”

Marcello locked eyes with him. “Who?”

Noah looked toward the front. He could seethe driver leaning against the hood, head bobbing to whatever wasstreaming through his earbuds. He supposed it didn’t matter if hedid overhear, or if the whole world found out, because Marcellowould probably make sure they never saw each other again.

“Harold,” he croaked. “Ilike him. A lot. It might be love.”

“You barely know eachother,” Marcello said dismissively.

“So? What difference doesthat make?”

Marcello paused. Then he chuckled. “Verylittle, come to think of it.” He was quiet a moment, leaning backagainst the cushioned seats as if wanting to get comfortable. “Iasked myself this morning if there was anything you could possiblysay to win me over. Had you been more forthcoming… Experience hastaught me that some people will lie and continue to lie until youhave them cornered and they’re left with no other choice.”