Josiah watched his lover frown. He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Did those words feel strange coming out of your mouth? God forbid you try and look on the bright side of things.”

“Why would I do that when we have you to do it for us?”

Josiah’s phone rang. He flinched, his body automatically tensing up with the sound. Mateo and Tristan were in the house with him. The only other people who called him lately were the police about the coffeehouse, or whoever it was who called and didn’t speak.

“Hey. It’s okay,” Tristan said as he reached for Josiah’s phone. He turned it over and showed him the face. “It’s Elliot.”

Holy shit, he was losing his mind. He hit ignore on the call. “I get nervous every time it rings. I’m so scared it’s going to be someone who wants to hurt us.”

“No one’s going to hurt us, baby. Come here.” Tristan pulled Josiah to his lap and wrapped his arms around him.

“You call me that more often now. It used to be that you only said it during sex, and that was rarely.”

Josiah could see Tristan thinking, trying to work out the thoughts in his head. He must realize he opened up more now, but did he see it before Josiah mentioned it? “I don’t want to lose you again,” Tristan finally said.

“You didn’t lose me.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But we started to. It came close. I don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself.” He slid his hand under Josiah’s shirt and ran it the length of his back. “I owe you more than I give you.”

They both turned at the sound of Teo coming into the kitchen. It was obvious he saw something was going on, and he didn’t hesitate to walk right over and join them. They needed it that way. Their three equal parts.

“There are parts of my past you don’t know. Why it’s still a struggle for me to let you both inside of me.” Tristan looked down, his lips moving, and Josiah knew he counted.

“You will,” Josiah told him. “When you’re ready, you will, and we’ll both be here.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Tristan

After looking over some available properties, Tristan went to his office. Between himself and his men, things were better than they had ever been. They were healing each other in ways they’d only spoken about in the past. They were moving forward, their balance, as Josiah called it, was intact.

Still, there was a block there, a block inside Tristan, and he knew it was all him. Regardless if he understood it or not, he knew it was something he had to deal with himself.

Josiah couldn’t do it for him.

Mateo couldn’t do it for him, either.

Tristan picked up his cell phone before digging his wallet from his pocket. It took him five minutes to pull the card out. He flipped the white square over and over in his hand for another five before he dialed.

“This is Elliot.” The voice on the other end of the line was full of husky sleepiness.

“Help me,” Tristan said before he lost his nerve. “Help me past this. Help me get better. For them. For me.”

Something rustled on the other end of the line before Elliot spoke again. “I can’t do it for you. No one can. Let me all the way in. Or let them all the way in. Be honest with them. But more importantly, be honest with yourself. We can’t get better, none of us, unless we face our past. Have you faced yours completely? Jesus, it goes against everything I believe in, but give them the tools needed to help lead you out of your past and into the future. Moving forward is the only way, and though I’ve never believed people should depend on others, I’ve always thought it important to be strong alone. I’ve also never seen anything like the three of you. The way you speak of them...the way Josiah speaks about you both... Maybe that’s your way out. But whatever it is, it will start with not hiding from the past. The only way is to beat it.”

That was the key, wasn’t it? Tristan had tried to forget, tried to hide from it and pretend to be another person. The truth was, he was Tristan Croft, the boy from the streets. The boy who sat in the closet and plugged his ears, crying as his mom sold her body. The boy who later sold his own. And the one who, now, still couldn’t admit it—not to Elliot and, more importantly, not to Josiah. Nothing would change his past, and trying to count it away would never help. Trying to fuck it away wouldn’t, either.

Josiah spoke about giving him the tools to be what they needed, yet Tristan still held vital pieces. He still even kept them from his own reach.

To ever truly be who they needed, that would have to change. His mom kept herself locked in her apartment because she was scared of the world, and Tristan did the same, only he kept parts of himself locked in his mind. It was time to break free from that jail. With his men, he could find a way to leave the past behind.