Ben blew out a deep breath and sat on the small couch…waiting as time ticked away.
Aidan was trying, but the man they only knew as “Viper’s son” had done a fabulous job at covering his tracks. Brown Shirt Guy had been a ghost as well, employed by a shell corporation and released with the help of some high-powered attorney back in Chicago. The rest of the men arrested that night on the roof had all been killed weeks later by random…accidents. Loose ends. All tied up nice and pretty.
Even in the movies there was something to go by. Some lead. Some mystery person or clue.
Something.
Anything.
Ben sighed. Real life sucked.
He had gotten a shitty hand for most of his life, and it was getting really old really fast. He was ready for his happily ever after dammit. Paid his dues and then some. He wanted Gabriel.
Right the fuck now.
He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. So much death and pain had been revealed during their research. The only thing worse than the monster was likely his quest for vengeance. Ben couldn’t imagine the pain Gabriel would endure.
Or the potential grief of losing him.
He refused to let that thought take root.
Gabriel would come back to him. He had to.
His eyes shot open when the couch shifted. He glanced over at Cal, sitting on the edge next to him. “Do you need anything?”
I need Gabriel. Ben shook his head. He followed Cal’s line of sight as he glanced up at the door. He straightened when Natalie entered with Frank trailing a few steps behind.
“I’m sorry,” she signed. “I told him what happened, and he wanted to be here.”
Frank wrung his hands, ducking and raising his head as he scanned the room.
Ben signed, “It’s okay.”
“Anything new?” Natalie asked.
Ben shook his head as another stab of pain squeezed his heart and burned his eyes. A tap to his shoulder drew his attention. “Aidan wants me to run downstairs for something he’s expecting. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ben nodded. He watched Cal leave the penthouse as Natalie and Frank approached.
“I’m going to make some coffee,” Natalie signed. She peeked over her shoulder at her father, then back to Ben. “He wanted to see you.” She turned and nudged her father forward as she stepped away.
Frank stood before him, his eyes shiny. Funny how the man seemed imposing the last time Ben saw him, but now, he appeared fragile and ready to break. “Natalie said you found some clue,” he signed. “That there’s a chance they can find him because of you.”
Ben motioned toward the couch, encouraging Frank to sit with him.
“Thank you,” Frank signed. “I know Gabriel doesn’t believe me, but I do love him. I just…don’t understand him.” He stopped signing. He shook off a thought that seemed to race through his mind. “But I want to. He’s my son.” The sharp movements of his hands as he signed let Ben know how deep Frank’s emotions ran.
Ben would give anything to have Gabriel there, in that very moment, hearing those words he so desperately needed to hear from his father. Ben didn’t dwell on their last encounter or the anger and frustration of that night, instead, he threw his arms around Frank’s shoulders and pulled him into an embrace.
After a second of shock, Frank buried his head against Ben’s shoulder, his body shaking as he sobbed. Ben held him tight, refusing to release the man suddenly falling apart in his arms. He felt oddly protective of the older man as he glanced over at Aidan. Aidan tapped away at the computer, ignoring the display of emotion. But the hint of a smile tugging the corner of his mouth was enough proof he was aware of his surroundings.
When Frank’s body finally stilled in his embrace, Ben pulled away, holding the older man’s shoulders steady.
Frank sat back and swiped away at the wetness on his cheek. “Sorry,” he signed.
Ben shook his head. “No sorries. Especially when you’re telling me how much you love him.”
“I was wrong about you. I see that now. I just wish…”
He wants to understand.
Ben placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder, stopping him and pulling his attention. “Sometimes, when we try to understand something or someone, we fill in the blanks with guesses. Make judgments, compare things to what we know and understand so that it makes sense to us. But sometimes, the guesses are wrong.” He stopped when Frank