Seeds and Sunshine

Chapter 1 

Jesus, Matty. I can’t do this anymore without you. I’m trying, I swear to God, but I’m…lost. 

Shiloh Williams stared into the two fingers of whiskey he’d been nursing for an hour. There was just enough for a sip left. Enough for him to swoosh around and pretend that the lights swirling madly were because he was drunk and not because his eyes were filled with unshed tears. 

He came in here to this little hole in the wall every night and sat at the back of the bar. He handed Kris a twenty, took his whiskey to the back booth, and stayed until closing time when it would be too late to disturb Skyler with a phone call, too late to do anything but walk down to the weird little apartment he’d rented on the fourth floor of one of the old downtown buildings. 

An apartment, baby? Seriously? You’re in a shitty efficiency apartment? My gardener? My baby that could spend hours in the yard, in the garden? In the greenhouse I had built for you? 

“Shut up, Matty,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking tired.” 

Shiloh had been exhausted for twenty-six months now. Worn totally to the bone since Percy’s Mission had managed to buck Matty off and hook a horn under his vest. Just as Lane Frost had died, Matty had been gone before they got him off the arena dirt. 

Matty’d been gone by the time that Shiloh had climbed into the ambulance. 

It was like his soul had bled out with Matty’s heart, in Dallas. 

Eventually he’d had enough of Texas. Maybe that was why, after damn near two years of insisting there was no possible way, he hadn’t argued much when Sky invited him up north for his charity event again. 

Now he was here, and he had stayed in Sky’s guest room for a month before he’d just sold everything barring the things that Matty’s folks had wanted to take and rented himself a place up here. He had all the buckles, the pictures, the shirt Matt had worn the day they got married and the one he’d died in. That was enough. 

“Hey, man.” 

Shiloh knew that kid. He came in with his friends a few times a week and played darts or pool or watched the TV. By this point, he knew a lot of faces, mostly because folks would wander by on the way to the head. This kid was the only one that acknowledged him, though, always giving him a wave before disappearing into the men’s room. 

He tipped his hat, offering the kid something that should look like a smile even if it didn’t feel like one. He got a sunny smile in return, so he must have faked it well. 

“Whoops. Occupied.” The kid backed out of the back area where the bathrooms were, chuckling and leaned against his booth. “That’s always so embarrassing, you know? Going for the doorknob and trying to turn it like four times, and by the time you figure out it’s locked someone’s shouting at you to wait a minute, which you didn’t hear over the music, and you’re like, sorry man! Ugh.” 

He arched an eyebrow, but he got that. “Nice thing about this seat. I know when someone comes out.” 

The kid blinked at Shiloh sort of like he’d grown a second head or something. 

“You okay?” If this kid was fixin’ to have a stroke, he was leaving without his last sip. 

“Oh!” The kid laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how brilliant that is.” 

That wasn’t something that he’d ever heard about himself. “Well, thank you kindly, sir. I appreciate that.” 

Now go on and let me wallow. 

A man hurried past them headed back toward the bar. “You’re welcome. My turn!” The kid pushed off the booth and moved away. 

He caught himself chuckling. Jesus, what a dork, but there was something harmless about him. 

Across the bar the guy’s friends were playing darts and one of them did something to make everyone cheer. He couldn’t see what it was, but when the kid came jogging out of the bathroom, they pounced on him. “Next round is on you, Tate!” 

“What? Dude, Dave did not win while I was gone. Someone cheated. This is a setup!” The kid—Tate—was laughing, eyes wide, but he was already pulling out his wallet. “I demand a rematch.” 

“Rematch! Rematch!” 

Christ, he remembered being that young and happy. Sort of. A long time ago. 

Maybe. 

Shiloh sighed softly and finished his drink. Time to go. He had reruns of Iron Chef America to watch.