by C. Kennedy
Michael had forgotten that she and Thimi didn’t know each other. “Yeah, might be a bit of a shocker to see a Christy duplicate.”
Jake chuckled. “True, that.”
Sophia smiled. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Think about it. The only person you’ve ever trusted and depended on in your entire life has a clone? It would freak me.”
Sophia gaped at him.
“I don’t mean you,” Michael backpedaled quickly. “Well, I do mean you, but not that way. I mean it would be weird.”
She looked at him, incredulous.
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
A motorcycle pulled alongside the car, and Michael went rigid. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw concern on Jake’s face. He looked at the bike, saw Smitty’s colors, and checked to make sure security was right behind them. All was good, so he relaxed and gave Jake a thumbs-up in the mirror.
THEY ARRIVED at Jake’s house to find raised voices coming from the parlor off the foyer, and Michael and Jake exchanged concerned looks.
“Think it’s about us?” Michael asked quietly.
“Don’t know why it would be,” Jake answered equally as quietly.
“We should leave them be,” Sophia whispered.
Then they heard Bobbie’s voice above the others. “All of this should have died with Jason! Do whatever it takes to resolve it once and for all!”
Worry zinged Michael’s spine. He knocked once and opened the double doors. Detective Davis stood next to Nero, and Bobbie faced them, tears damp on her cheeks. Mac and Anna sat on the couches that faced each other.
“Mom?” Michael went to her and hugged her petite frame. “What’s wrong?”
She rested her forehead against his shoulder and fought to pull herself together. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you, Michael.”
“I’m fine, everything’s fine. We’re okay.”
Michael gently moved Bobbie to sit on the couch as Sophia sat next to Anna and held her hand, and Jake sat on the other side of Anna. Michael sat next to Bobbie, put an arm around her, and looked to his dad, imploring him for help with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
Mac pursed his lips. “Detective Davis came to share unfortunate news with us.”
Jake looked from Mac to Detective Davis, then at his dad. “What?”
“Anthony Taylor died in a car accident last night,” Nero said flatly.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MICHAEL STILLED. No wonder his mom was upset. He looked at Jake, who appeared equally as surprised.
“Who is Anthony Taylor?” Sophia asked.
“Tony. A friend from school. A friend of Jason’s,” Jake answered.
A small gasp escaped Sophia.
Michael found his voice. “What happened?”
Detective Davis ignored the question. “Where were you last night?”
“I was here,” Jake answered quickly.
“I was at Christy’s,” Michael answered.
“All night?”
Irritation rose in Michael. “Yes.”
“Neither of you went out last night?”
Anger became apparent in Jake’s expression. “I was here, and Michael was at Christy’s. I dropped him there because he doesn’t have his car. It’s at his house.”
“When did you see Tony last?”
“Weeks ago,” Jake answered.
“When?” Detective Davis asked succinctly.
“The day Christy was kidnapped. He was with Rich at track practice after school,” Michael said.
“Did you speak with him?”
“Yes.” Michael told of the confrontation about Jason’s death and finished with, “Coach was there, and Tony felt bad about what Rich said and apologized for him.”
“Oh for the love of God, Rich can’t possibly blame you for Jason’s death,” Bobbie said in disgust as she rose from the couch and went to the crystal decanters on the bar.
Michael stifled the profound sadness that rose in his chest when he saw his mom head for the liquor, and the old burning fury at Jason—and now, Rich—returned with a vengeance.
Detective Davis wasn’t deterred. “Let me make sure I understand correctly. Rich was angry with you, but Tony was not, correct?”
Michael nodded as he watched his mom pour a golden liquid into a crystal tumbler and add two ice cubes to it. “Yeah. Yes.”
“And Tony apologized for what Rich said, correct?”
Michael turned back to the detective. “Yes.”
“Was Tony apologizing for the slurs or for Rich’s assertions that you are responsible for Jason’s death?”
Michael shrugged as he watched his mom take a seat in a wingback chair. “Both, I think.”
“And you haven’t seen Tony since?”
Michael thought hard. “No. I didn’t even see him at graduation. Did you, Jake?”
“No.”
The detective pressed. “When was the last time you saw Rich Carlisle?”
“Same time we saw Tony, and we haven’t seen him since,” Michael answered quickly and looked at Jake.
Jake gestured to Michael. “What he said.”
“Do either of you ride motorcycles?”
Michael tucked his chin in disbelief. “No. We’ve never been on a bike.”
“Never?” Detective Davis pressed again.
“Never,” Jake said with finality. He turned to Nero. “What gives, Papà?”
“Traffic camera footage shows that Tony’s Toyota Camry was run off the 90 thruway at the Mohawk River overpass in Herkimer by a group of motorcycles.”
Sophia covered her mouth with a hand to prevent another gasp from escaping. “This is the same group who has given you trouble?”
Jake blew a long breath in frustration. “No idea.”
“Did you talk to Smitty?” Michael asked.
Detective Davis nodded. “I have spoken with him and your security personnel about the motorcycle club that is giving you a hard time. Your father, here”—he inclined his head toward Mac—“told me that you suspect Rich to be riding with that group. Why would that be?”
“One of the bikers is wearing a jacket that looks like the jackets Jason, Rich, and Tony got last year on the Fourth of July,” Jake clarified.
Detective Davis’s brow knitted. “Describe the jacket?”
“Jeans jacket, and it has a big red firecracker on the back and a yellow explosion on the front.” Michael drew a big circle on his chest with a finger.
“Where did they get them?”
Michael looked to Jake for help. “The arcade?”
Jake nodded. “Down on the waterfront.”
“Maybe Smitty knows who sold them,” Michael added.
“Thank you for the information.”
Silence filled the room for an extended moment before Jake said, “Could be Rich. Could be that Jason gave his jacket to one of the guys.”
“Did you talk to Rich?” Michael asked Detective Davis.
“No. His parents claim they don’t know where he is. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Michael and Jake exchanged looks again before Michael spoke. “No.”
Detective Davis looked expectantly at Jake.
Jake gestured to Michael again. “No.”
“Was Rich homophobic?”
Michael issued a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Basically, Jason was a leader, and Rich was a follower. He did whatever Jason told him to do. So when Jason was around, he acted homophobic.”
“Was Tony homophobic?”
“No, Tony had a mind of his own. He hung out with them, but he wasn’t… I don’t know. Tony wasn’t mean-spirited, if that makes sense,” Michael explained.
“No,” Jake answered.
Detective Davis’s eyes narrowed on Michael. “How do you know he wasn’t if he hung out with Jason and Rich?”
“Because he wasn’t,” Michael said firmly. “He had no problem with me and Christy. He just, I don�
�t know, didn’t have a lot of friends, so he hung out with Jason and Rich.”
“Did Jason, Rich, or Tony have a girlfriend?”
Michael frowned. The question honestly puzzled him, and he looked to Jake.
Jake shrugged. “Not that we knew of, but we don’t go around getting into other guys’ business, if you know what I mean.”
Detective Davis seemed to nod to himself in contemplation.
Jake suddenly rolled his eyes as if a lightbulb had gone on in his head. “No. They were not in relationships with each other.”
Michael glanced at Jake.
“What?” Jake asked defensively.
“I still wonder if Jason wasn’t a closet case.”
Detective Davis studied him intently. “Why?”
Michael shrugged a shoulder. “He was hassling guys in the locker room, smacking their asses, calling them names, that kind of stuff. You know he did that to Christy, and he had fights with Lisa and Stephen. And his hate for me, Christy, his brother, even for his mom, was over the top.” Michael paused. He didn’t normally share his personal thoughts with anyone but Jake and his parents. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. Forget I said anything.”
“Do you think Rich or Tony could have been coerced into sexual activity with Jason?”
Michael pursed his lips. “No way of knowing that.”
“That’s all for now,” Detective Davis finished up. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your evening.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Anna said.
Michael jumped up from the couch. “I’ll walk him out, Mrs. Santini.”
Nero gave him a brief questioning look and then gestured to go ahead.
Michael walked the detective out of the parlor, closed the doors softly behind him, then led the detective out the front door and closed it.
They stood under the portico, and Detective Davis gave Michael a long, appraising look. “What did you want to say to me, Michael?”
“You can’t talk about this stuff in front of Mom anymore. Talk to Mr. Santini, talk to Dad…. No, wait. Don’t even talk to my dad. Talk to Mr. Santini if you want to talk to us.”
“Wasn’t it you who said that you want parental approval to speak with me even though you’re eighteen?”
Michael squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment and wanted to shoot himself. “Yes, but you can’t…. Forget I said that. Call me if you have questions. If I feel weird about it, I’ll ask Mr. Santini to help me.”
“You want me to go through your attorney now? Is that it?” he asked in dismay.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. What I’m saying is you can’t upset my mom.” Michael was emphatic but kept his voice low. “She almost went over the edge with the Jason thing.”
The detective considered him further, as if to assess his manhood, and Michael wanted to squirm under the scrutiny. The detective finally blurted, “What in hell is going on?”
Michael was perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
“With the bikers? Everyone knows you know Smitty. No one in their right mind would mess with you or Jake.”
“How in hell should I know? They showed up one day and have been a pain in the ass ever since!” Michael’s frustration pushed at him, and he fought to remain calm and polite. “I don’t know what is going on. Jake doesn’t know what is going on. They showed up out of nowhere. Smitty said he took care of them. Now they’re back. That’s all we know.”
Detective Davis looked out at the gated, cobblestone drive and the manicured garden that resembled a tropical paradise and shook his head. “Don’t you think it odd that there has been nothing but trouble since you began dating Christy?”
Michael was immediately defensive. “This has nothing to do with Christy.”
“It does, Michael.”
“It does not!”
“What I’m getting at is that these are hate crimes.”
Michael’s nervous system wasn’t sure whether to ratchet up or down. “You’re saying that there has been nothing but trouble since I came out?”
Detective Davis nodded. “Then add who Christy is.”
Michael had to give the detective props for that. He was right. “Two points for you, but it doesn’t mean we’re wrong or that we owe anyone anything.”
“True. But it has been very costly for you.”
“What are you trying to say? Stop dating Christy and all this will stop? ’Cause that isn’t going to happen.”
“Think about your mother.”
The needle on Michael’s anger meter shot into the red. “Even if I stopped seeing Christy tomorrow, this shit wouldn’t stop because it has nothing to do with me being gay, or Christy. It has to do with people who… who… are screwed-up!”
“People who don’t have what you have but also don’t have what you have in spite of being gay?”
Jake’s words from nearly two months ago echoed in Michael’s mind.
“The thing that gets me is that Jason isn’t after you because you’re gay.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s after you because you’re gay and still have a normal life, or at least a more normal life than he does, and you have several things he’ll never have.”
Michael studied Jake as he parked the car and turned the ignition off. “You’re right. I have a best friend who doesn’t mind that I’m gay. I have two cool parents, I’m captain of the team, and I have lots of friends and a boyfriend.”
“And you’re intelligent and have a scholarship to one of the best universities in the world.”
“Who would have thought being fortunate was a crime?”
“Jealousy can be a very powerful thing, bro.”
“I am not going to stop seeing Christy. I don’t care what people hurl at me,” he said resolutely.
“Then accept the consequences of your decisions.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Michael.”
“You know what?” Michael fought not to let a “fuck-you” fly off his tongue. “Don’t talk to my mom or in front of her about this stuff. Talk to Mr. Santini. Good night, Detective.” Michael had nothing more to say, and he turned and entered the house. He returned to the parlor in a huff to find only his dad, Jake, and Nero there. “Where’s Mom?”
“Anna took her upstairs to bed,” Mac said.
“What’d you say to him?” Jake asked.
Michael met each of their eyes and settled on his dad’s gaze. “I told him he can’t talk to Mom or in front of Mom about this stuff anymore. He needs to talk to Mr. Santini.” Michael suddenly realized he might have overstepped his bounds. “Sorry, Dad.”
Laughter danced in Mac’s eyes.
“That is wise, Michael,” Nero said as he settled his largess on the couch next to Jake.
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like he has to talk to you to get to me, but I think that’s how he took it. He’s killin’ Mom with this stuff!”
“Keep your voice down,” Mac said.
Michael ran an exasperated hand through his hair as he plopped into the wingback chair his mom had vacated.
“What did the detective say?” Jake asked.
Michael blew a long breath. “He said life isn’t fair, and I need to accept the consequences of my decisions to be out and be with Christy.”
Mac’s brows shot up, and he chuckled. “Well, that’s rather to the point, isn’t it?”
Michael glared at his dad. “This shit is not happening because I’m seeing Christy.”
“No, but it is happening because others don’t have the life you have.”
Michael jumped up from the chair and began to pace. He wanted to hit something. “Being fortunate is not a crime!”
“In some people’s eyes it is, and you must accept that,” Mac said matter-of-factly.
“Now you know what it’s like to be wealthy, bro. It paints a huge bull’s-eye on your chest in a thousand different ways,” Jake said.
Michael glared at J
ake. “We are not spoiled little rich kids who get everything we want and take other people for granted!”
“You’re right. And we deal with things other people never even think about, but you don’t expect them to see that, do you?”
Michael paused. “Yeah. Yeah, bro, I do. Because we’re good to people!”
Jake nodded. “We are. Hurray for you. I gave up on that shit a long time ago.”
“What in hell are you talking about, Jake?”
“The world isn’t filled with Michaels and Jakes, son. Don’t expect people to behave the same way you do,” Mac said patiently.
Michael stopped pacing. “It’s that oblivious thing again, isn’t it?”
Even Nero chuckled now. “You’re not oblivious in this instance. You’re acutely aware of what others don’t realize or accept. You’re at the effect of it. But you must accept what they don’t realize.”
Michael looked at Jake.
Jake gestured to Nero and Mac. “Our dads are right. Don’t fight it. The world isn’t filled with people like us. Don’t expect others to act like us.”
Michael stared at Jake for a long moment before turning to his dad. “Is it okay if I hate my life for, like, five minutes? It’ll be brief. Is that okay?”
Mac burst into laughter. “Absolutely.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHRISTY’S HAND trembled as he brushed Thimi’s hair back from his forehead. Seeing Thimi for the first time after that unspeakable night fifteen months ago was surreal. He had often wondered about Thimi, certain he had died, nothing more than fodder thrown out to sea. He had no idea how Thimi had escaped after he’d passed out—pain, blood, horror, suffocation flashed through Christy’s mind, and his hand shook even more. He hated the memories and fought to push them away.
Thimi had hidden in the vents of Christy’s father’s house after believing Christy had died at the hands of their abusers. They’d seen it so many times, over and again—the faces of the dead permanently carved into their dreams. Alone, afraid, no food, no clothing—no protection—Thimi’s survival was nothing short of a miracle. All of it was unimaginable.