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Tanner

As an acquaintance to uncertainty, Tanner had anticipated many things.

He had not, however, envisioned this.

″Did you,″ Bill snapped, the grit in his tone fiercely intimidating. As if paralysed, Tanner succumbed to the shorter man′s grip; unable to frame a response, any response. The air had been sucked out of his lungs. They were close enough for him to feel the hammering beat of Bill′s heart. Tanner′s chest heaved rapidly, though not for the same reason as Bill′s, the latter′s eyes desperately wide as he glared accusingly at him. He was alert yet unmoving; transfixed on the young man′s accent, the curl of his cold fingers as they tugged viciously at the hem of his shirt, the panicked arch of his thick eyebrows, the sweat that trickled down his neck, the tears that brimmed in his tired eyelids, rimmed with shadows like shallow cuts. Tanner′s stomach leaped into his chest as Bill′s voice rose to a scream, ″kidnap my nephew?″

He couldn′t speak. He watched as Bill trembled; be it with fear or fury, Tanner couldn′t tell. He′d scoured the pier for a glimpse of Bill and Georgie for almost an hour. Not once had he expected to be tackled and pinned to the sidewall of a concession′s stand. Certainly not by the man he′d been caught stalking. That, Tanner realised, must be why he thinks I′ve nabbed his nephew.

Nephew. So, Georgie wasn′t his brother, or son, after all. Feebly, Tanner shook his head. Bill tightened his grasp, unintentionally raking his nails into the skin of Tanner′s chest. ″Liar,″ he snarled. ″You′ve been following us.″

Against his will, Tanner gasped. Bill blinked, as though woken from a dream, and let him go, jerking his hands away like Tanner′s skin had burned him. He staggered backwards, staring at his palms, appalled. The distance between them enabled Tanner to suck in a breath of air, find his voice. ″Yes, I － I did. But only because ...″

He couldn′t finish that, not even if he hadn′t feared sounding stupid. ″Because what?″ Bill demanded. ″To keep watch, alert your baby-napping buddies when the coast was clear? Where is he, stashed in one of your sketchy vans, about to be cut open, have his organs ripped out and sold on the black market by － by you remorseless －″

His voice cracked, broken mid-sentence by a sob. An unfamiliar urge rose inside Tanner; the urge to rush forward and envelop Bill in his arms, tell him it was going to be all right. He didn′t. He stood petrified by guilt and shock, like deadweight chained to his ankles. ″I would never hurt him,″ Tanner murmured, speaking aloud without realising it.

Bill didn′t seem to hear him. ″I′m such an idiot. Cassie should′ve never trusted me with him,″ he rambled, sounding hysterical. Broken. His knees had given in, shins sprawled helplessly across the rain-washed deck. His voice, a hoarse, low whisper, sent shivers up Tanner′s arms. ″Baby, where are you?″

He′d asked of no one but the universe; a desperate call to God, perhaps. Tanner felt a pang of sorrow on behalf of Bill. Tanner had all but lost faith in the divine. Had that been the aftermath of his parents′ death? He couldn′t quite say for sure. He had come to realise, be there a God or not, that he was on his own.

″We′ll find him.″ The words had spilled out of his mouth of no volition of his own, half-reassuringly. The other half, Tanner guessed, must be stupidity.

″We?″ spat Bill, tone injected with pure venom. ″There is no we in this, stalker.″

He may as well have kicked Tanner in the stomach. You ran away once, chided a voice inside his head. Don′t you dare leave him twice. Tanner recalled how Georgie had smiled back at him from the rollercoaster; a crooked grin of chipped incisors and a missing rabbit tooth that he′d never forget. You have to be an idiot to lose him again. Ironically, the voice sounded like Emma′s. A thought struck him, and he spoke with newfound determination.

″I have friends,″ he threw out, as if that alone were a solution. Bill raised an eyebrow. Damn, thought Tanner. He′d always envied guys who could do that. ″They′re here, at the pier. They′ll help us search for your nephew.″

Bill sighed helplessly. ″Are they stalkers, too?″

″Only on Instagram,″ Tanner assured him. He wasn′t sure, but he thought he′d seen the corner of Bill′s mouth curl.

″I suppose that′ll suffice,″ he muttered under his breath. Albeit hesitant to trust a stranger, Tanner sensed the desperation in his voice. ″I swear, if you′re a kidnapper and this is some ploy to stick a bag over my head, too ...″

He didn′t finish. The notion of such a brutal fate having struck his nephew willed him into silence. He must really love this boy. To Tanner′s surprise, Bill choked out the words, ″I′m losing hope.″

″Hey,″ said Tanner. This time, he did rush forward, offering the beautiful boy a comforting smile. ″Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it, you′ll never make it through the night.″

Bill′s eyebrows scrunched. How adorable, thought Tanner. ″You just quoted Princess Leia.″

Tanner grinned. ″See? I′m not a complete weirdo.″ At this, the shadow of a smile fell across Bill′s angular features. ″I′m Tanner by the way,″ he said, offering the boy a hand. Shockingly, he took it.

″Casey.″

Casey, his thoughts echoed. Tanner loved that name. He shivered, though he wasn′t at all cold. His fingers laced through Casey′s gingerly, radiating an unfamiliar warmth as their palms aligned.

″What′s the matter?″ Casey′s voice washed over him like icy water, waking him up.

″Nothing,″ Tanner replied. Casey. He hadn′t let go of his hand. ″Let′s go find your nephew.″