42

Joseph’s eyes swept the hallway again, his gaze lingering on the empty hooks where Alice’s coat and shoes should have been. He tapped his fingers against the doorframe, debating whether to leave or keep searching. His gut told him she wasn’t here, but the nagging voice of doubt kept him rooted to the spot. He was about to head out when a hand tugged lightly at his arm.

“Wait,” Ste mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Erm… nobody knows… about… you know.” He avoided Joseph’s gaze, staring instead at the floor. “Please… don’t tell anyone. I’m begging you—”

Joseph turned to face him, his features softening. “No, no, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head gently. “Don’t… don’t do that. I’d never do that to anyone. Outing someone is a huge no-no in the LGBT community, sweetie. You really need more gay friends.”

Ste’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “Well… I have one,” he said, blinking rapidly. “But… he’s a bit of a sadist.”

Joseph couldn’t help but laugh at the bluntness. “Understatement of the century,” he quipped. The tension between them eased slightly, though Ste’s posture remained defensive, his arms crossed protectively.

“Thank you,” Ste murmured. His voice was quiet but earnest, and the small, grateful smile that followed caught Joseph off guard.

“For what?”

“For… this.” Ste held up the slip of paper with Joseph’s number, his fingers fidgeting with the edges. His cheeks flushed slightly, whether from embarrassment or the lingering cold, Joseph couldn’t tell.

Joseph tilted his head, studying the boy. “You need to put it somewhere safe,” he said, gesturing to the paper. “You don’t exactly have a pocket in your… nothing.”

Ste stared at the paper for a moment, as if weighing his options. “I’ll memorize it,” he decided, his voice firmer now. “I have a good memory for numbers.”

Joseph raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin. “Okay, Mike Ross, calm down.”

The reference earned a soft chuckle from Ste. “Ah… Suits?” he asked, his smile widening slightly.

“God, I adore Mike,” Joseph sighed wistfully. “Smart, ambitious, and just the right amount of awkward. What’s not to love?”

“I always preferred Harvey,” Ste admitted, his tone shy but playful.

“Oh, you would,” Joseph teased, rolling his eyes. “Harvey’s great, but let’s be honest, he’s a walking ego with expensive cufflinks.”

Ste’s chuckle was louder this time, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight through a stormy sky. Emboldened, he sheepishly handed back Joseph’s coat before scurrying off toward Jamie’s bedroom, the slip of paper still clutched tightly in his hand.

Joseph lingered in the hallway for a moment, his thoughts heavy. He had done what he could for now, but the situation with Ste and Jamie was far from resolved. With a sigh, he turned and headed back to his car.

The streets were quiet as Joseph drove, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the stillness. His thoughts kept circling back to Alice. He was halfway home when a familiar figure caught his eye—a lone silhouette hunched on a bench outside the park gates.

His stomach twisted. He slowed the car, rolling down the window. “Get in,” he called, his voice sharper than he intended.

Alice looked up, startled. The pale glow of the streetlamp illuminated her tear-streaked face, her expression crumpling as recognition dawned. She clutched a nearly empty bottle of wine in one hand, her grip so tight her knuckles were white.

“Come on, sweetie,” Joseph coaxed, his tone softening. “Get your little butt in here. I’m taking you home.”

Alice stumbled toward the car, her steps unsteady. She fumbled with the door handle for what felt like an eternity before finally managing to clamber into the passenger seat. The scent of cheap wine and salt from her tears filled the air.

“Oh, babes,” Joseph said, glancing at her as he pulled back onto the road. “What happened?”

“I suck,” Alice wailed, her voice breaking. “I’m a complete waste of space.”

Joseph’s heart ached at the raw pain in her voice. “Why? Because a teenage delinquent doesn’t see how wonderful you are? You need to stop basing your self-worth on the opinions of utter douchebags.”

“He’s not a douchebag,” Alice sniffled, pouting. “He’s… sweet. Sort of. And… thoughtful.”

“Uh-huh.” Joseph’s tone was skeptical. “And what about Alek? If he tried anything, I’ll have him fired so fast his pervy little head will be spinning.”

Alice made a face, scrunching her nose. For a moment, Joseph thought she was about to vomit, but she shook her head. “He didn’t,” she said, her voice soft. “He’s just… sadder than I always thought.”

Joseph frowned but didn’t push further. “Okay,” he said simply, though doubt lingered in his mind.

By the time they arrived at her house, Alice was nodding off. Joseph gently coaxed the wine bottle from her hand, disposing of it in the recycling bin before guiding her to the front door. She leaned heavily against him, her steps sluggish and uncoordinated.

Once inside, Joseph helped her up to her room, tucking her into bed with practiced care. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead, the gesture more protective than anything else.

As he headed downstairs, the muffled sounds of arguing reached his ears. Jamie’s voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet night, while Ste’s whimpers were barely audible. Joseph’s chest tightened. He knew his intervention earlier had likely made things worse for Ste in the short term, but he had no regrets. The seed had been planted. One day, Ste would realize he didn’t have to endure this. One day, he would reach out for help.

At least… that was what Joseph hoped.

Back in his car, Joseph stared out the windshield for a moment before starting the engine. The streets stretched out ahead of him, dark and empty, but his mind remained crowded with worry. He resolved to have words with Alek—firm words—at the first opportunity. But for tonight, all he could do was drive forward and hope.