Liability

Chapter 10 - Rhys

"We need a plan," is the first thing Rhys says when he and Thommy reach his condo.

"Is this about Mark?"

"You've seen him, too."

"You're worried. No," Thommy pauses, grabbing Rhys' neck and bushes his thumb under his chin, forcing him to look at him. There is nowhere to hide from those almost black eyes. "You're blaming yourself."

"You would, too, if you were in my shoes." It's instinct to attack even his best friend when cornered. Rhys doesn't deal well with being backed into a corner with no escape routes to fall back onto should the need arise. He could kick Thommy's ass. Kick him out of his home. Tell him to shut up.

He doesn't.

Thommy keeps staring down at him, searching for something for what feels like way too long before he yanks Rhys against his chest and squeezes him hard. "You're an idiot."

"No, I'm right. You know it. After Mulligan, after the whole shit storm last year, I should have been here. Mark was counting on me and I abandoned him," Rhys says, unable to stop himself. He hides his face in Thommy's wide chest, the almost hard fabric of his shirt scratchy against his forehead. "How can I—"

"Don't finish that sentence. You're a good friend. And Mark knows this."

"Really?" Rhys scoffs, remembering Mark's disgusted face and his words yesterday. "Sure's felt like it."

"No one put a gun to the asshole's head to sniff up some coke," Thommy retorts, acidic. "Or whatever he's stuffing himself with."

"But can you blame him? That animal..." Rhys can't finish the sentence and he feels disgustingly pathetic. "That perverted scum spent seven months blackmailing Mark, threatening him with exposure to his parents—"

"I was there, too. You don't need to tell me what happened."

"Still..."

"No, Rhys. You didn't do anything wrong. It was Mulligan."

"I know. I know, but I still can't let it go. Because we are supposed to be his friends. Yes, he's a giant dick. He is selfish and bitchy on his good days, but still our friend."

"And we were just fucking brats. Children who didn't understand shit. And if it wasn't for you who knows what would have happened. So stop with the self-flagellation already and start using that giant brain of yours."

It takes a few minutes to compose himself, but Thommy is right. Wallowing in regret and shame over the past won't help Mark get out of whatever shit hole he managed to fall into. Which means Rhys needs to get his brain into gear and think with the same detachment he analyzes humans in general. They can do this. And do it before anyone gets wind of Mark's supposed problem.

"Okay," he takes a deep breath and steps back from Thommy to sit down on his couch. "What do we know so far?"

"Mark has been mingling with some real skeezy looking guys these past month but it had to start before that because they seemed awfully close when I first saw them," Thommy says, sitting down as well. "Question is, are they feeding Mark drugs or is it something else?"

"No, the question is how we get him out."

"Talking to him is out, I hope you know. He tried to take a swing at me the one time I tried to bring the topic up."

"Not surprising."

"Thanks." Rhys snorts and leans against Thommy's side, earning a long-suffering sigh and a large, heavily muscled arm around his shoulders. "If only the others saw you now."