In Safe Arms (My Truth Book 2)

by Ann Grech

  I didn’t eat either. Even the smell of food had me wanting to barf. My stomach churned at the same speed as my mind. I lost count of how many cups of coffee I’d had until Angelo cut me off somewhere around the forty-hour mark. I was still jittery, but I didn’t know whether that was the nerves or the caffeine in the espressos I’d downed like water.

  Angelo’s hovering was making me insane, but I couldn’t bear to have him far away either. He’d come close and I’d walk away, then I’d go straight back to him and crowd him until I was practically sitting on his lap. I could see him getting frustrated. He didn’t know what to do with me, but he was doing everything I needed. I didn’t know what else to do. What to feel. I’d placed my entire relationship with my parents in New Zealand Post’s hands. There was literally nothing I could do until they delivered the letter and I got the call. If I got a call.

  I paced the living room floor, trying to rationalize a plan in my head if I didn’t hear from my parents for days or weeks. Or maybe never. If I truly had burned the bridge between us by running away all those years ago, I had to face up to them not wanting anything more to do with me. The thought stung. I’d wanted it for so long. I’d missed them so damn much, but my therapist was right. I had to work up to it. I hadn’t been brave enough or strong enough to have sent the letter before. Now I was, but I was also impatient to know. I had to remember that I’d had a while to come to terms with this. I was springing it on them. They might need time to get used to the idea I wasn’t dead, too. I had to remember that they might not even believe me, or want me, and ignore the letter altogether. I scrubbed my hands over my face and ran my fingers through my hair, groaning in frustration.

  At any other time, seeing me like this, Angelo would have dragged me to the gym for a sparring session. But this time he knew it wasn’t what I needed. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t letting out frustration. I was scared. Nervous. Excited. Hopeful, but fearful too.

  “Trent,” Angelo called quietly. I heard him, but when I didn’t answer straight away, he stood in front of me, blocking my pacing. “Hey.” He reached out, clasping my arms gently.

  “What?” I snapped, regretting it immediately. I blew out a breath and grasped his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to take it out on you. I’m not good at this.”

  “I wouldn’t be either.” He cupped my face with his free hand and pressed our foreheads together. “You need to get out somewhere peaceful. Why don’t you put your gear on and we can hike along one of the trails?”

  I closed my eyes and relief washed over me. He always knew exactly what I needed even when I had no idea myself. “That sounds perfect.” So that’s what we did. A few hours later, we were on one of our favorite trails overlooking the town. High up in the mountain air, the cold fall breeze buffeted the slope, and I pulled my beanie down lower over my ears. The pack on my back wasn’t heavy, but it was a little awkward, being filled with a rolled-up blanket and a couple of foil wraps, torches, and a first aid kit. Angelo insisted on carrying the food and drinks, a much heavier bag.

  The rocky terrain made it slippery underfoot and I had to concentrate hard not to lose my footing as we maintained our punishing pace hiking up to the snow line. I was exhausted, breathing hard in the thin air and completely out of energy. It wasn’t surprising, given my lack of food or sleep in days. The lactic acid buildup was making my exhaustion worse; I needed to sit down. Angelo beat me to it, pointing to a huge boulder overlooking the valley. “Up there. I need a rest.”

  “Sure you do.” I smirked as best I could while trying to get enough air in my lungs to power the last way up the slope. “But I appreciate you not calling me out on needing a break.”

  I sat on the pitted surface of the rock. It was ice-cold, the chill instantly seeping through to my bones. While Angelo fussed over the food, taking containers and flasks out of his pack, I pulled the blanket out of mine and laid it over the rock. Sitting back down, I shifted to make enough room for Angelo to join me and we sat there together. We didn’t speak, but I appreciated it. It was the first time my mind had quieted in days. Angelo handed me a flask of sweetened tea he’d brewed before leaving, and we broke open the fruit, nut mix, and candy bars.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. “For being there through this. I’ve been a mess. I didn’t realize how hard it would be. The waiting is killing me.” I’d barely finished my sentence when my cell rang. I stilled, then looked at Angelo.

  “Answer it,” he encouraged, digging it from the side pocket of my bag.

  It was an Auckland number. My heart thudded in my chest and my palms were sweaty. This could be it. It could be them. Nervous excitement pulsed through me, warring equally with fear. I had no idea what to say or do, but I knew one thing. I had to speak to whoever it was on the other end of the line. I swiped to answer it, saying, “Hello?” My voice came out at a higher register than I intended, betraying my nerves. I cleared my throat and repeated myself, “Ah, hello.”

  “Hello, my name is Amanda Weathered from Bakersfield, McKenzie & Weathered in Auckland. May I ask to whom I’m speaking?”

  The name sounded like it was a firm of lawyers. Oh God, no. Please no. Please don’t let anything have happened to them. I reached out for Angelo’s hand and he clasped it, threading his fingers through mine and holding tight. “I’m known as Trent Campbell now, but my full name is Keir Trenton Campbell.” My voice wobbled, emotions making it crack. Angelo shifted, wrapping his arm around me and holding me close.

  “Did you send a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell recently?”

  “I did. They’re my parents. I… I was trying to reach out to them.” I sucked in a breath, willing my heart to steady. When I spoke again, it was barely a whisper. I had no idea whether the woman on the other end of the line even heard me above the whistle of the wind. “Am I too late?”

  “Sir, I’m following up on behalf of my clients.” She sounded businesslike. Not cold, but a no-nonsense professional. She didn’t beat around the bush either. “They received a letter this morning and telephoned me. My instructions are to ask you some questions that only Keir would know the answers to and to pass on those answers to my clients. If they’re satisfied with them, they’ll make contact directly with you.”

  “Okay.” Relief filled me. I assumed if they were instructing her, that they were okay. I hoped. I nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me, still freaking out about the possibility that I was too late.

  “Tell me, what was your favorite thing to do with your sister?”

  “I’m an only child. I don’t have any siblings. Mom and Dad tried for years before they had me. Then they tried again, but it never happened.” I paused, my brow furrowing as I put the pieces together. “But you know that, don’t you?”

  “I do, Mr. Campbell. Can you describe a memory from one of your childhood holidays with your family?”

  I thought for a moment, reaching back into memories I’d buried long ago. Ones that were of happier times. Ones that were too painful to think about now. “We never went on holidays just the three of us. My godfather was always with us. I remember one time going camping at this creek. The campsite was at a bend in the stream. I was so excited about going there that I went down to the water and fell in. I twisted my ankle on the rocks and had to sit down for most of the weekend. Dad and my godfather took me fishing instead of swimming and hiking like we’d planned. It was the first time we’d gone. Between the three of us, we caught one fish—it was Dad who hooked it. But it didn’t swallow the hook. It was too small to have done that. The hook got caught on its fin. When we got back, Mom made a big deal about not having any dinner to cook, but the whole time she was smiling. We had dinner, then ate enough marshmallows toasted on the fire to make me want to puke.”

  Angelo was rubbing my back, smiling at me. “That sounds like a wonderful memory.”

  “It was a fun trip. I had a good childhood.”

  “Thanks for telling me that, Mr. Campbell.” The lady asked me a few more questions, some to
trip me up and others to get more details from me to verify my identity. When she hung up, the only thing she promised was that she’d pass on my answers and someone might be in touch.

  I was restless again, hopeful but nervous, and unsurprisingly Angelo picked up on it. “Let’s head back down the mountain and have a hot shower together.” I smiled at him and nodded.

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  My cell rang again when Angelo was pulling my truck into the drive of our townhouse. The number flashed up on the screen, and I swallowed hard. It was another from Auckland, but this one was familiar. It was one I’d memorized as a kid, ironically in case something happened and I needed to call home. It obviously worked; I could never forget it. I closed my eyes and reached for Angelo. He clasped my hand, squeezing tight when I swiped the answer button. “Hello?”

  A gasp came through the line and a lady started sobbing. “My God, it’s you,” she said, and I recognized my mom’s voice instantly. My eyes burned and I didn’t even try to stop the tears from flowing. Angelo was there, reaching out for me when I needed him most and for that I was grateful.

  “Mom?” I cried. “Is… is Dad there too?”

  “I am, son,” he answered, and I cried harder. Hearing their voices was like a dream come true. Something I never thought I’d hear again. They sounded the same, but different too. Time would do that, I supposed. I’d given up hope of speaking to them again, but there I was, all four of us crying.

  Mom added, “We knew it was you as soon as we saw the photo, but we couldn’t get our hopes up. We thought you were gone.”

  “I miss you,” I blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Hush, son. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You came back to us.” My father’s words were to mollify me. I knew that we’d have to work through the issues I’d caused. No, the issues my godfather had caused with his evil act. But it was still nice hearing they were happy I’d called them.

  “Can you send me a photo of you?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you in so long. You only ever share photos of me on Facebook.” I huffed out a laugh at the irony of my parents sharing my photos and me not even being on social media.

  “I’ll text you one now,” Mom said, still sniffling. “Can we see you, Keir? Come and visit you? Or maybe you’d like to come to us?”

  “Ah….” I hesitated, but that was enough for Angelo to step in.

  “Trent, go at your own pace. Remember what you’ve been working through. Maybe get them to come here.” He spoke the words against my temple, mumbling more than speaking, but it was what I needed to hear. I nodded. I wasn’t ready to go to Auckland yet, mainly because my godfather might be there.

  “Is there someone else there with you, Keir? Should we call back another time?” Mom asked, uncertain.

  Before I could answer, Angelo spoke up. “Hello, Mrs. Campbell, Mr. Campbell. I’m Angelo. Please don’t go. It’s not an inconvenient time. I just told Trent that perhaps you might like to come to Queenstown. It’s lovely at this time of year. It’s not the cheapest time to come here though, with ski season about to start.”

  “Oh, hello, Angelo,” she replied, more of a smile in her voice. “We’d love to visit Queenstown. Can you recommend somewhere to stay?”

  Angelo looked at me and smiled, wiping the tear tracks from my cheek. “I’ll text you through a few names of the hotels closest to our house after you hang up.”

  “You two live together?” my dad asked, and my gut sank. I didn’t want to lie to him. I was out to everyone who mattered, but fear clasped a cold hand around my heart and squeezed it. I’d only just got them back. How would I handle it if they didn’t want anything to do with me when I shared that part of me with them? I opened my mouth, then closed it again, torn between telling them how important Angelo was to me and lying to them. I was saved from answering when Angelo did it for me.

  “We’re roommates, yes. We’ve been friends for years.” My eyes popped open and I looked at him, worry sweeping any trepidation away. Why had he done that? Why did he just jump back into the closet with me? He smiled and ran his thumb over my cheek again before kissing me softly on my forehead.

  “We’re happy you’re friends then. It’s important to have that,” Mom said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

  “Angelo’s… he’s amazing,” I explained, needing to tell them in my own way how important he was to me.

  We spoke for a while longer, the conversation staying on safe topics. Things like work and Dad’s recent retirement, whether I still fished, and how our team was doing in the football. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I didn’t really follow the games anymore because of the memories they dredged up. But I did ask them whether they’d kept in touch with my childhood best friend, Jake. They had. He visited them whenever he was back in the country. He’d apparently moved to Australia for college and had stayed there. I wanted to ask them about Ryan too. To check whether they were still as close as they used to be, but I dared not mention his name. I wasn’t sure what it meant when they didn’t speak about him either.

  Throughout the whole conversation, Angelo held me close, running his fingers through my hair and letting me know with soft caresses that he was there for me. When we said goodbye with promises to speak again in a couple of days, I closed my eyes and laid my head on his shoulder.

  “You need some sleep, amore,” Angelo murmured against my hair.

  “Why did you tell them we’re roomies rather than partners?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to know, especially considering how we’d fought so hard to feel comfortable enough to have our relationship out in the open.

  “It’s a lot to take in at once—finding out you’re alive, hearing your voice again, arranging for them to visit. I was trying not to overwhelm them and to protect you from having so much emotional stuff happening all at once. I’m sorry if I hurt you by saying that.”

  “No, it’s okay. I just… I was scared to tell them, but I didn’t want to lie either.” I looked up at him and took a steadying breath. “I can’t lose you. I’m scared they’ll hate me, but I can’t lose you.”

  “Shh,” he soothed, running his fingertips down my face. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always choose you.” I closed my eyes to his touch and felt his warm breath before his lips ghosted over mine. The move was intimate and lovely. Sweet and soothing, his love wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I found myself smiling that dreamy smile I had whenever I thought of Angelo, but I needed him in my arms. I blinked open my eyes and motioned to the townhouse. I didn’t need to say anything further. Angelo got out and I followed, meeting him at the front of my truck. We left the bags in the car and went inside, stripping off our coats and scarves as we passed through the living room. Angelo paused outside the main bathroom and grasped my hand, pulling me inside.

  “I’ve got a better idea than a shower.” He pulled out a couple of Lush bath bombs, started filling the tub, and lit one of the scented candles we had in the room. “Let’s get you undressed.” He was on his knees undoing my hiking boots and pulling each off, my socks following soon after. I helped him up after he’d taken off his own, and he reached for my sweater, leaning in to kiss me first. Our tongues tangled as he inched it up my body and I moaned into his mouth. His hands were on me; fingertips dancing over my stomach had it fluttering. He pulled back, only to lift my thin sweater over my head, my T-shirt following immediately behind. I tugged off his thermal Henley, leaving us both bare-chested in our waterproof hiking pants. His olive skin and the dusting of hair over his chest and down his belly had my mouth watering. I kissed him again, moving my mouth along his jawline and down his throat. Kissing and licking my way across his chest, my tongue lashing his nipples and down his taut stomach to his navel, I relished his taste. His soft skin and those strong hands threading through my hair. He wasn’t pushing, just pulling me close to him. Anchoring himself to me. I loved that. I loved knowing he was as desperate for my touch as I was for
his. Falling to my knees, I popped the button on his pants and lowered the zipper, tugging both his pants and underwear down his legs. I helped him out of them and tossed the clothes to the side out of our way. He was hard, but I turned away from his shaft, kissing his thigh and hip, across his belly over to the other hip. Angelo’s groan had me looking up at him. My tongue still against his inner thigh, I grinned wickedly when I saw his drunk-with-desire but pained expression. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock, and I couldn’t resist a taste. I swiped my tongue over his slit and hummed when his flavor burst onto my taste buds.

  “Get up here,” he rasped, tugging on my wrist. I let go of his hips and stood up, kissing him hard when we were again chest to chest. He pushed me against the vanity basin and fell to his knees. I leaned back and looked down as he ripped open my pants and stuffed his hand down my boxer briefs, jacking me as he worked my remaining clothes off my hips. His tongue lashed my balls, and I hissed at the contact. He was bringing me to the edge far too quickly. I pushed gently against his forehead and he immediately pulled back. Hurt flashed across his features, but he quickly covered it up before breathing out a “Sorry.”

  “I don’t wanna come in your hand like a randy teenager. I wanna love on you.” I smiled at him, cupping his face in my hands. “I wanna mess up our bathroom.” I smirked at him and flicked off the faucet before stepping into the warm water. Angelo followed me in, and I tugged him down on top of me. Spreading my legs, he slipped between them, lining up our cocks as he brought his mouth back to mine. He ground down and I thrust up, sliding our shafts against each other. I gasped at the friction created by our hardness pressing together, then moaned in ecstasy as I wrapped my hand around them and encouraged his movements with my other hand on his ass. Water sloshed around us as we moved together, lost in each other’s kisses and the synchronized dance of our bodies. I squeezed his perky ass cheek before moving my fingers to his crease, rubbing over his hole. Circling his pucker, I pressed gently, but not enough to enter him. That was all it took. Angelo stiffened over me and his shaft hardened impossibly, grinding against my own. It pushed me over the edge too, my orgasm flowing over me like the waters of the Niagara River crashing over the edge of the falls. Our cum pulsed out of our cocks together, both of us struggling for breath as we soared high above the clouds, or maybe tumbled in a barrel with the rushing waters.