A Restored Man (25 page)

Cole moved efficiently, picking up the remaining items and sorting any of the boxes that were out of place, his booted stride firmer than usual and just as loud as the occasional gust of wind hitting the metal bay doors. "Why won't you let me help you?" he said, packing up the last of the equipment.

"You do help. You helped me with the Drayton rig and the service—"

"That's work," Cole said. "I'm getting paid to do that. I'm talking about whatever the hell is going on with Mr. Asshole. I want to help you and you're shutting me out."

"I don't want to drag you into this mess," Ty finally said.

"Just stop it," Cole said, closing the box he had packed.

"Stop what?" Ty asked, cocking his head.

"This whole stupid shit you do where you play the victim."

Ty inhaled a sharp breath. "I'm not playing the victim."

Cole threw the box of parts on the floor. "You are. Man up and realize that's what you're doing," he said with a glare that would rival Aidan's. "I know I suck at sugarcoating shit, but I'm sure you got a sticky note in my file about that too. I'm sorry. But I'm tired of seeing you do this to yourself."

"Don't think—"

Cole raised his hands. "Don't tell me what to think, and don't think you know how I'm going to react to something. You've been wrong almost every time. You don't have a fucking clue if I can help or not but you're not even willing to give me a chance. I'm not an expert at this relationship stuff, but I know it's a two-sided deal. I can't be the one always trying to make the effort here," Cole said firmly.

Ty stilled. "You think I'm not trying? You think—"

Cole stepped up to Ty and spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't fucking tell me what I'm thinking. You shut me out when it's convenient for you. You have this dark storm cloud over your head all the time because you wallow in your misery and block everyone out who wants to help you. I'm willing to give you time because you asked for it. I'm more patient with you than I've ever been about anything in my life. But even I have my limits." He backed away and paced a few steps then stopped, placing both hands on his waist. "I need an equal, Ty. I'm not easy, you know that. I need someone who's strong as hell by my side, someone who's a fighter."

"You think I'm not a fighter? You think it doesn't take effort to get out of bed every morning when I can barely reach the alarm clock because the scars on my torso contract?"

Cole immediately jabbed his finger in the air toward Ty. "Stop it. There you go again. The accident happened, it's done. Don't relive that shit every day. You need to focus on how to move past it. This victim thing, it isn't you. You're not the type of guy who gives in and quits. I can see the
real
you. That guy with the twisted sense of humor who loves to drive me crazy with the teasing. The tough guy…the one who doesn't give up. He's the guy who won all those awards hanging on the walls. The stubborn fighter who battled through all that shit and didn't quit, proving the doctors wrong and walking again.
He's
the guy I think about every day, that amazing guy with all those qualities. The same one who gave those doctors the finger and told them to fuck off when they didn't believe he could do it because he knew, deep down, he could fight the odds and get past all that.
He
didn't quit."

Cole took the few steps needed to stand directly in front of Ty. The muscles in his jaw flexed and his gaze was more intense than usual. "That strong guy, that fighter, he's the one who drives me crazy. You need to tap into yourself and bring him back. He's in there and he's fighting to break free," he said, reaching out to stroke Ty's cheek. "If you need a little help, you have a hell of a lot of people willing to be there for you. But don't you fucking dare give up or let an asshole like that take you down a notch. And you better not come up with bullshit excuses to slow down. If you can't reach the alarm clock, then fucking move it closer. Don't let that stop you. You can't change what happened or the scars you've got from it, so you need to adjust."

"I am trying to get my life back under control."

"You can't control everything, so stop trying."

"I'm not trying to control everything. I'm just trying not to let it all control me!"

"Yeah? And how's that working out for you?" Cole said, crossing his arms.

Ty exhaled dramatically, not wanting to let Cole's words hit their mark.

Cole shook his head. "You're shutting everyone out who cares about you and wants to help. I'm fucked up enough for a small village, but I'm working on it. And I won't turn away help if I can't do it on my own. Dammit, I'm trying," he said, slapping his fist against his chest. "But even I know you can't fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed. So if you want to shut me out because that works for you, then fine," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "But it doesn't work for me."

Ty stilled. His head hummed with the pounding of his heart. Each breath took effort and he couldn't move his weakened limbs. "What are you saying?"

"I want you, Ty. More than I've ever wanted anyone or anything. I'm not looking for a fuck buddy or I would have had you under me on that first day. We work together and make out and play around and that's all fun and nice, but that's not enough for me. You won't do this relationship thing all the way and I don't know what else to do. I'm fucking tired of being the only one trying here. It's too hard to sit on the sideline and watch you do this to yourself. I just can't do it. I can't force you and I would
never
force you, but I feel as if you don't trust me enough to give this a chance. To let me in completely."

"I do trust you."

Cole shook his head. "If you did, then you'd let me help you. I know I don't act like a normal person but I'm not some fucking kid," he said, walking toward the exit door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow, boss," Cole said with a backward wave. He grabbed the keys off the hook by the door for the errand car and exited the bay.

Ty walked toward the door quickly but not soon enough. All he saw was the back of the small sedan drive away in the rain and turn the corner. "Shit!" he yelled, gripping the railing of the stairs. The one steady thing he wanted—no, needed—in his life had just driven away. He looked up and squinted to block the rain as a wave of anger began to swell.

Fucking rain.

One of the display sign's ropes had come loose and whipped with the wind. There was no way the sign would remain intact with the storm. He immediately grabbed a ladder from the storage closet in the bay and returned outside to loosen the other straps and remove the sign before the winds worsened.

He stretched and tried to reach the strap, pissed he hadn't asked his crew to remove it earlier. He had never removed one of these display signs alone and, in the back of his mind, had no reason to believe this time would be different. But it was. It mattered. He had to do it alone. He wasn't playing the victim. He had to know he could do without the help of others—whether it was this sign or every damn task that came along in the day. He had to get the sign down. He was on a mission and had picked the one thing he had never done alone to benchmark his independence.

He was a fighter. Dammit. He sure as hell wasn't going to let the rain beat him down.

Again.

He reached a little more but the tips of his fingers barely grazed the vinyl rope. The rain strengthened, mocking him. He shook his head defiantly, hating the way the rain beat down on him like tiny punches across his face.

He hated rain storms.

Lightning lit the sky and a crash of thunder echoed loudly in the air. The storm was a quick mover, and it seemed as if the sky had darkened in a few seconds and the rain was now falling at a steady rate.

In a flash, every physical limitation he now had, every change he pushed through since the accident flickered across his mind like a high-speed photo presentation.

He stretched that inch farther, trying to wrap his fingers around the vinyl rope. His other hand slid against the wet metal of the ladder. "Fuck," he yelled. He thought about every word that had been said and let the anger, frustration, and desperation mix, hoping to channel that extra bit of adrenaline to wrap his hand around that fucking strap.

A crash of thunder echoed in the air.

He had to finish and get out of the rain. His brain knew that and registered the stupidity of hanging on to a wet metal ladder in the middle of a lightning storm. But some other part of him didn't care. He had to do this, to prove something to himself for some stupid, ridiculous reason; this moment and this task was critical.

The rain mocked him.

He locked his jaw, focused on the rope, and reached again just as his body tightened. He slipped on the wet step and he lost his grip and fell.

* * * * *

Cole pounded on the steering wheel, willing the slow as molasses, eco-friendly car to move faster. He wanted nothing more than to slam on the accelerator and race away from the anger. He replayed the conversation in his mind. He hadn't lied to Ty or said anything deliberately to hurt him. But somehow, he knew his words had stung.

And it ate away at him.

He didn't understand why Ty was so stubborn. Why he deliberately shut everyone out. Maybe the reason for the strain between Aidan and Ty was more on him than his stubborn brother? Cole had easily put the distance in their relationship on Aidan, but now it seemed he had managed to fall for the truly stubborn Calloway of the clan. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to change.

He couldn't leave things the way they were. Yes, he was angry, and yes, Ty was stubborn. But so was Cole. He didn't have experience with the relationship thing but he remembered one of his conversations with Julian…
we never go to bed angry. Period.

Angry didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling. He was livid. He was upset and frustrated with Ty but was pissed off that life had mixed in circumstances that kept standing in their way. Shit happens. He'd have to find a way to convince Ty that he needed people to help him deal with the crap life was throwing his way.

Could he stand not kissing Ty anymore? Not touching him? Not teasing him? Not having him close enough to feel the heat of his body or the graze of his fingers against his skin?

No fucking way. He'd go insane.

"Dammit!" he yelled, turning the car around. He didn't know how he was going to get through this, but dammit, he was going to try until he had exhausted every ounce of energy he had. He wasn't going to give up on his first attempt at a relationship with the first man who actually made him want to be a better person. Ty Calloway was stubborn, but if he wanted to meet his match, then so be it. Cole could put his game face on and channel that stubborn asshole that lay within.

He turned each corner with more care, unsure how the small car would handle the quickly flooding streets. He guided the car through the traffic, trying to avoid the side streets with more water build up. He cursed the car. Another one of Ty's stubborn positions to be more earth friendly. A pickup truck would have been more practical for shop errands.

Cole made the last turn onto the warehouse road and his heart stopped when he saw Ty lying on the ground, unmoving, lit only by the flash of lightning across the sky. He pushed the accelerator and sped down the street as fast as the hybrid could manage under the stress of his boot on the pedal. He slammed on the brake, stopping only inches away from where Ty lay on the ground. He quickly exited the car, and within seconds, was on the ground by Ty's side, grabbing his face and pushing the wet hair out of his eyes.

"Ty, Ty, snap out of it. Wake up," he yelled, his voice shaking with fear.

Ty was so cold. He begged and prayed it was a result of the cold rain falling on him. He stroked the wet hair and tried to feel for a pulse at Ty's neck. Relief poured through his body when a strong, steady rhythm thumped against his fingertip. He looked at Ty's body—no blood, no limbs in awkward positions.

"Fucking open your eyes," Cole yelled with more desperation in his voice than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Ty moaned and shifted his head slightly.

Cole lifted Ty's upper body and pulled him against his chest. He needed to feel him, to know that he was okay. "Say something. Talk to me. What the hell are you doing out here? Shit, you're fucking freezing."

Ty's hand reached for Cole. "Had to get the sign down. Too much wind."

Cole withdrew, holding Ty by the shoulders. He looked at him, perplexed.

"I'm cold," Ty mumbled.

"No shit. And apparently that's frozen your brain. What the hell were you thinking? That sign is too big. One person can't do that alone."

Ty dipped his head.

"We need to get inside," Cole said, shifting his arms, one below Ty's knees the other tightly around his back.

"I can walk," Ty said with more fire in his voice than usual.

"Fine, then fucking walk, but move your ass now."

Cole stood and extended his hand, offering support. Ty glared, but grabbed his hand and stood. Ty was visibly shaking. Cole didn't say another word. Something was going on in Ty's head but he knew better than to push after their earlier argument. He leaned into Ty and wrapped his arm around his waist to steady him as they walked into the shop.

"What about the sign? I need to get it down," Ty said, looking over his shoulder.

"Fuck the sign," Cole said, pulling Ty's arm over his own shoulder to offer more support.

He hauled Ty to the office and began unzipping the coveralls.

"I can undress myself," Ty said, his teeth chattering.

"Then take that wet shit off now before I rip it off," Cole said. "What day is it?"

"Thursday. Why?" Ty responded.

"I need to make sure you didn't hit your head too hard," Cole asked. "What was the ticket number you were working on earlier?"

Ty scowled. "1569884. And most people wouldn't remember that even without hitting their head."