Elpida

by C. Kennedy

  “Yes. I’m going to find Christy. He shouldn’t have left the floor without security.”

  Fear shot up Michael’s spine like a Roman candle gone bad. If security hadn’t been hanging out in a room down the hall, he wouldn’t have. Michael jumped out of bed and a twinge of pain zinged his knee when his feet hit the floor.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Tad’s words were emphatic.

  Michael ignored him as he headed out the door to the nurses’ station. “Carol! Radiology is on the ground floor, right?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Where is it?”

  She looked at him, then at Tad, and back again. “Basement. Why?”

  “The press!” Michael shouted as he headed to the elevator.

  “Michael, get back here!” Tad called after him.

  Michael fought not to shout a “screw you” as he stepped onto the elevator.

  Tad stuck his hand between the doors as they began to close, and they bounced open again. “Get back to the room.”

  “No.” Michael jabbed the basement floor button several times with a finger, and a loud buzz sounded as Tad held the doors open.

  “Michael!”

  “You guys let him go down there without someone! Let the doors go!”

  “Get off the elevator!”

  “No!”

  Tad reached in and grabbed his arm.

  “Get off me!” Michael shoved him away.

  “You can’t control where the elevator stops on the way down! Use the stairs!”

  Michael blocked the doors just before they closed, stepped off the elevator, and headed for the stairwell.

  “Michael,” Tad said in a warning tone.

  Michael fumed and fought to contain the words that threatened to fly off his tongue as he reached the stairwell door and shoved through it. Idiots! He raced down the stairs as fast as his knee would allow and rounded the bend to the first floor, shoved through the door, and came face-to-face with a photographer. He turned back into the stairwell as Tad blocked the camera shot but could do nothing about the man’s shout to the others.

  “He’s in the stairwell!”

  “Go!” Tad shouted to Michael.

  He bolted down the last two sets of stairs to the basement level and pushed the door open as Tad did his best to prevent the press from following him.

  It was cool on the lower level, and goose bumps rose on his skin. He searched the overhead signs, found what he was looking for, and ran down the hallway toward the radiology department. Hospital booties sucked as running shoes, and he slipped on the polished floor and narrowly missed catching himself against the door to radiology.

  “Careful, there,” a male nurse cautioned.

  Michael tried to turn the handle, but the door was locked, and he swore under his breath.

  “Can I help you with something?” the nurse asked.

  “I need in here.”

  The man looked at him, curiosity now plain on his face. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. Yes. My, ah, friend is in here.”

  The nurse peered through the small square window in the door. “You’ll have to wait until they’re finished. Have a seat.” He gestured to a row of hard plastic chairs along the wall.

  Left with no choice, Michael took a seat.

  “There he is! Michael! What do you have to say about today’s verdicts?”

  Michael turned to find a mob of reporters headed his way. He jumped to his feet, searched for the nearest open door, and entered a dark room. Slamming the door quickly, he leaned against it and fought to calm his breathing as he searched the wall for a light switch. He found one, and flipped it. He was in a small bathroom. Great. Now what in hell was he going to do? He couldn’t let Christy leave radiology alone. Shit, shit, shit!

  “Michael!” Tad shouted through the door. “It’s clear!”

  Thank God! He opened the door. “We need to get to Christy before they do.”

  Tad put a hand to Michael’s chest. “Hang on. The press is still out here.”

  “You said it was clear!”

  “They’re down the hall. Stay calm and simply tell them you have no comment.”

  Michael all but growled. “Can we get into radiology?”

  “Yes. Christy is waiting for us.”

  Michael took a deep breath, exited the bathroom, and headed down the hall back to the radiology department. He turned back to look at the press, was astounded by the number of people after him, and slipped inside with Tad on his heels.

  Christy sat in the wheelchair alone in the waiting room.

  “Hey, babe. Where’s Peter?”

  Christy gestured to a closed door. “Just there with the man who take the pictures. He will be out in one minute.”

  “Okay.” He squatted before Christy and took his hands in his. “Listen, the press is down the hall near the elevators.” Worry immediately filled Christy’s eyes, and Michael knew exactly which memory plagued him. The first time he’d walked down the street in Athens, the first time he’d been in the sun in years, people crossed the street to avoid him, and a man had hit him with a newspaper and then threw it at him. It had been horrible for him after his father died.

  “I do not like the press.”

  “I know, babe. All we have to say is ‘no comment,’ okay?”

  “I cannot tell them I am happy?”

  Michael looked up at Tad for help.

  “Mr. Santini would probably want you to say as little as possible.”

  Michael turned back to Christy. “Just say ‘I’m happy’ and leave it at that, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  The office door opened, and surprise filled Peter’s face when he saw Michael and Tad.

  Tad hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The press is down by the elevators.”

  Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  Michael stroked a rogue ringlet behind Christy’s ear. “You ready?”

  Christy nodded, determination etched on his face. “I will do this.”

  Michael couldn’t help but smile with pride. “Like a boss.”

  Christy’s eyes went wide. “I am the boss?”

  Michael chuckled. “Yeah, babe. You are. Let’s do this.”

  Flanked by Tad and Peter, Michael wheeled Christy down the hall toward the elevators, and the press came alive like a nest of angry hornets.

  “Michael!”

  “Christy!”

  “What do you have to say about today’s verdicts?”

  Tad held a hand up to silence them, and they quieted.

  “I am happy,” Christy said with conviction.

  “I am too. No further comment,” Michael said curtly as he tried to move the chair forward but was stopped by a woman who gripped the arm of the wheelchair with a hand.

  Tad stepped forward. “Remove your hand, please.”

  “Christy, you were raped during the abduction. Would you care to make a cautionary comment for our viewers?” she demanded right before she shoved a microphone at Christy’s face.

  “Don’t answer that,” Michael said quickly. “We have no further comment.”

  Christy looked up at the woman, anger large in his eyes. “It is none of your business. Please remove the hand from the chair.”

  Tad reached for the press pass that hung around her neck, and she backed away quickly. “Your name?”

  “Carol Adder, Channel 8 News.”

  “Please contact Nero Santini for a formal statement,” Tad said with authority.

  Peter moved to the side of Christy’s chair and extended an arm as if to gently move the press back so they could reach the elevator.

  “Who are you?” one man shouted at Peter.

  Christy looked at the man, fury even larger in his eyes. “It is none of your business. Please move so we may pass.”

  “You can’t speak for him,” another man all but shouted at Christy.

  Christy firmly grasped the wheels of his chair. “We give you the statemen
t that we are happy. We are polite. You are rude. I am the boss, and you must move so we may pass!” He wheeled the chair forward without regard to the crowd.

  From the yips, shouts, and curses, Michael guessed Christy ran over more than a few toes.

  It was all Michael could do not to burst into laughter as he guided Christy’s chair to the elevators. Tad pushed the Up button, and the doors opened. Michael shot the reporters an eloquent look before wheeling Christy inside.

  Tad and Peter blocked the doorway to prevent anyone from joining them, and Michael burst into laughter when the doors closed. “That was great, babe!”

  “I do this like the boss.”

  Michael was still laughing when they entered their room to find Rob waiting for them. “Hey, Rob.”

  “Hi, Michael.” He looked at Christy with sadness in his eyes. “How are you, Christy?”

  “I am good,” he answered, a trace of anger still lingering in his voice.

  “We ran into the press on the basement level, but Christy totally handled them,” Michael said, still chuckling.

  “Are you going to let me in on the joke?”

  “There is not the joke. We are polite. They are rude,” Christy said as he rose from the chair and walked to the bed.

  Even Peter chuckled now. “Hey, he gave them fair warning.”

  Rob looked from Peter to Christy, to Michael, to Tad, and back to Christy. “What happened?”

  “Michael tells me I am the boss. So, like this, I tell them to move. They did not. So I drive the chair over the feet.”

  A mere second passed before Rob smiled. “You didn’t.”

  “He did,” Michael said still laughing. “Like a boss.”

  Tad smiled now and gestured to Christy. “He handled it like a boss, all right. I can’t wait to hear what Mr. Santini says when he sees it in the news.”

  Michael began to laugh all over again. “Hey, maybe next time they’ll move.”

  “Can we talk in private, Christy?” Rob asked.

  Christy looked to Michael, who gave him a thumbs-up, and then back at Rob. “Yes.”

  “It may be about an hour, Michael,” Rob said, all humor gone from his voice.

  Michael became concerned and looked at Christy. “Do you still have the phone Tad gave you?”

  Christy nodded.

  Michael reached to the nightstand, retrieved his phone, and held it up briefly for Christy to see. Christy nodded again, and Michael left the room with Tad and Peter in tow. “Wonder what that’s about,” Michael said to no one in particular.

  Peter looked at Michael when they reached the nurses’ station. “I’m not a doctor, but I’d guess Rob wants to make sure he’s okay before he goes home.”

  Michael frowned. “He’s okay now.”

  Peter nodded. “I’m not saying he isn’t. I’m only saying that Rob needs to make certain.”

  Michael sighed and ran a hand through his short curls. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Do you want to wait for your dad in the room with us?” Tad asked.

  “Sure.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ROB HIKED his khaki pants and sat in the chair next to the bed. “How do you feel?”

  Christy wasn’t sure what to say. Was it okay that he was happy about the verdicts or was that wrong? He wasn’t supposed to wish bad things on other people, but Yosef deserved the guilty verdicts and more. He met Rob’s even gaze before issuing a halfhearted nod. “Okay.”

  “Yesterday was a rough day, but you did exceptionally well.”

  He looked at Rob, still unsure what to say. “Thank you.”

  “Can you describe what you were feeling when you left the courtroom yesterday?”

  He shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to say what had gone through his mind at the time. “Fear.”

  “Of?”

  “Michael would not love me because of the sex with Yosef.”

  “Was it sex or rape?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. What did it matter? “It is not different.”

  “It is. You were raped. You have always been raped by Yosef.”

  He shook his head. “This is not true. Sometimes I had the sex to make him happy.”

  Rob leaned forward, elbows on knees, and clasped his hands together. “To make him happy? Or to keep him from hurting you?”

  “It is the same. If he is happy, I am not hurt.”

  “It isn’t the same, Christy. We’ve talked about this. You were conditioned through severe abuse to do what was necessary to protect yourself. And you lived in a constant state of high alert, continually gauging how to best manage the people who hurt you in order to mitigate punishment, humiliation, and pain. And—” He paused. “—you wanted to be loved. You believed what those men did to you was affection, but now you know differently.”

  “I understand the words. But the mind does not believe this.”

  “Before the kidnapping, you had begun to believe it, hadn’t you?”

  Christy shrugged a shoulder again. “Some of the times.” He didn’t want to have this conversation. Michael had seen everything. It was only a matter of time before he didn’t want him anymore. He knew what he was supposed to think, but he couldn’t always do it. He had to constantly correct his mind, and it was exhausting. And right now, he was tired. His soul was very tired.

  “How do you feel about the outcome of the trial?”

  He wanted Yosef to die, but he didn’t think he could say that. “I-I am… happy.”

  Christy had known Rob long enough to know that the creases at the edges of his eyes meant he was trying not to smile—which meant he’d said the right thing.

  “Do you think, in spite of the humiliation and having to relive the events of the kidnapping, it was worthwhile to testify?”

  Christy rubbed a hand over his sore thigh. No. It wasn’t worth it. It was going to cost him Michael. “I am happy he is going to the prison. I wish to know for how long.”

  “The sentencing hearing won’t be for a few weeks yet.”

  He stilled, fighting to keep his nervous system steady. A few weeks? A few weeks! “Why do we wait?”

  “Each side gives the judge a recommendation, and Yosef will have a chance to speak to the judge. Then she’ll decide how long he will serve in prison.”

  He wanted it all to go away. He rubbed a hand over his thigh again. Back and forth, the movement rhythmic, comforting.

  “Tell me why you wanted to end your life last night.”

  Why? One day he would be brave enough to tell Rob some of his questions were stupid. Why not? It was only a matter of time before Michael didn’t want him anymore. And it was only a matter of time before someone who worked for the Sannas would come after him. To punish him in the worst way. “I do not wish to end my life now.”

  “Tell me why you wanted to last night, please.”

  Christy gritted his teeth. He’d already said why. “I was afraid Michael would not want me.”

  Rob nodded. “Are you saying that without Michael, you have nothing to live for?”

  Stupid question. But he hadn’t been thinking about Thimi last night. Guilt seared his heart, and he began to feel worse again. Bad. As if he’d done something wrong. Sometimes he hated how his mind worked. “I was afraid. I am okay now.”

  “Answer my question, please.”

  He gritted his teeth again. “No. I like the life I have now.”

  Rob nodded. “Good. I want to make something clear to you. If you feel suicidal again, I want you to come to me. Wellington isn’t a home for suicidal people. I would hate for you to have to leave when you have me and others as resources twenty-four hours a day.”

  Christy’s anger rose, and he met Rob’s eyes. He hated the implied threat and thought Rob arrogant for inferring that it even came close to the threats he’d lived with and would live with for the rest of his life. “I am okay now. I will not do this again.”

  “Good. How are you and Michael getting along?”

  Christy relaxed a
little, thankful Rob had moved on. “Michael does not believe the sex is my fault.”

  Rob nodded once. “Good. What other concerns do you have about your relationship with Michael?”

  He became irritated again. He didn’t like when Rob became nosy. “Michael is good to me.”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  “None.”

  “Will you let me know if you have concerns about your relationship with Michael?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “Good. Can we speak about Thimi for a few minutes?”

  He narrowed his eyes at Rob, and he worried Rob knew something he didn’t. “Yes.”

  “I received a call from Dr. Jordanou. I understand that you spoke with Thimi.”

  Is that a question? He hated it when he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to say. “Yes. Thimi was upset because of me. I said I am okay. He is okay now.”

  Rob nodded. “How did that make you feel?”

  What kind of question is that? “I did not like it. I do not want something to happen to Thimi.”

  Rob nodded again. “Do you think you are ready to accept the responsibility of someone relying on you?”

  Another stupid question. He’d taken care of Thimi from the time he was four or five years old. That is, until he left Greece and moved to the US. He ran a hand over his face as more guilt flooded him. “I will take care of him.”

  “It isn’t your job to take care of him. We want to help him learn to take care of himself. Yet it goes without saying that he’ll rely on you heavily when he first arrives.”

  Christy fought not to smirk. Rob had no idea what he was in for. Yet. Thimi had only ever left Christy’s side when he was forced to work. Not even to go to the bathroom. “Okay. When does he come?”

  “Possibly Sunday, but on condition that Dr. Jordanou feels he’s ready to travel.”

  “He is good after I speak with him.”

  “Dr. Jordanou wants to ensure he is not suicidal before he brings him here.”

  “He is not. He knows I live now.”

  “As I understand it, he almost fell from the roof when General Sotíras told him you were alive. His wrist broke when they kept him from falling.”

  Guilt washed over Christy in waves, and he fought not to vomit. “It is good now?”