“It’s illegal, I tell you,” one of the officers insisted.
“Attempting to jump from the bridge is an offense in itself, but two men?” the other said. “They should be arrested.”
“You can’t stand in the way of justice,” the first argued.
“That man has just attempted to take his own life,” Blaise argued, “and that other one has saved him. You wouldn’t dare arrest them after that sort of heroism and that kind of devotion.”
“Ma’am,” the second officer said, holding up his hands to Blaise, “I don’t make the laws, I just enforce them.”
“Where is your heart?” Blaise demanded.
“Ma’am, please,” the first officer tried to calm Blaise as well.
The other officer, the one who had been with them in the park, cleared his throat and said, “Er, Doyle, that’s not a woman.”
“What?” the first officer blurted.
“I think we’d better run,” Noah whispered, freeing himself from Beckett’s embrace.
Beckett sighed, frustrated that their moment of triumph had been squashed by small-mindedness. “You’re probably right.” He grasped Noah’s hand and turned to Graham to say, “Run.”
They broke away from the policemen and rushed back to the bridge’s deck. They didn’t exactly run, but they moved fast enough to discourage the policemen from following them. Marcus pulled Blaise away from her confrontation with the two officers and hurried her along as well, Beckett’s father following them, and as they moved back onto solid ground, Beckett thought he heard one of the officers say something about too much paperwork.
Whatever the excuse, it was a blessing that the policemen didn’t pursue them.
“I’m taking Noah home,” Beckett announced to his friends once they’d traveled far enough to blend in with the first rush of morning foot traffic. “He needs to rest. We both need to rest.”
“We all need to rest,” Graham said, rubbing his face as though he were exhausted. “Catch up with us later, though, alright?” he went on. “We care about you, Noah. We might not have done a good job of showing it so far, but we do care about you.”
“We do,” Marcus added, resting a hand on Noah’s shoulder as they waited at a streetcorner.
Beckett tensed at the touch, but he forced himself to let go of whatever resentment still lingered in him over the way Marcus had treated Noah at first. Whatever had happened between them was water under the bridge—though perhaps he wouldn’t use that analogy ever again. All that mattered was how they all moved forward.
“We look forward to seeing you at The Slope again,” Blaise said, stepping forward and grasping Noah’s face so that she could lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’d like to be friends.”
Noah let out a breath. To Beckett, it seemed like his lover let go of a mountain of tension and trouble with it. “I’d like that too,” he said, smiling tiredly.
They bid goodbye to the people from The Slope as Beckett’s father hailed a cab. Beckett considered himself lucky that there were cabs ready and waiting, even though dawn had barely begun to break. That was New York City for you.
“I truly am sorry,” Noah sighed once they were safely ensconced inside the carriage, Beckett and Noah sitting together with Beckett’s father across from them. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Beckett knew it was more than that. Noah hadn’t been in his right mind when he’d set out for the bridge. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it now, and they were incredibly lucky that Noah hadn’t gone through with it, but it meant he would have to be vigilant in the future.
“I forgive you,” he said, pulling Noah across his lap as though he were a child, even though he was much too big for the action and his father was looking on. Beckett didn’t care. He didn’t need to forgive Noah either. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to forgive. But he sensed that his beloved needed to hear it. “Just promise me that if you ever feel this way again, you will let me know. Or if not me, my father, or one of our friends. Someone, anyone.”
“Yes, please,” Beckett’s father said.
“I will try to keep that promise,” Noah said, lowering his head a bit.
Beckett was well aware that it was the best he could offer. He would work hard to help Noah fulfill that promise.
Just as Beckett was prepared to snuggle Noah in his arms and kiss him through their journey home, whether his father was there or not, Noah snapped his eyes up to meet his.
“Did you see another man on the bridge with me? A Spanish-looking man?”
Beckett blinked. “No.”
“I saw no one,” his father said.