“No. I think I’ve avoided it because I’ve always felt planes look as though they’re meant to fly and helicopters don’t. What is it they say about them? They beat air into submission.”
The helicopter taxied forward onto the jetty that jutted out over the Thames, turned, and a few moments later rose into the air. As it moved out over the river, Linton’s stomach rolled and his heart lurched. But once his internal organs found their way back to their proper location, his minor anxiety morphed to amazed pleasure as he took in views from a bustling Kew Bridge in the west down to Greenwich where the Cutty Sark tea clipper sat marooned on a glass ocean.
“I wish I’d chartered a jet,” Thorne said.
Linton turned from the view to Thorne. “Why?”
“I want to fuck you.”
Linton let out a choked groan.
“But I didn’t so I can’t. I’ll just have to sit here thinking about it. Want a drink?” Thorne let go of Linton’s hand to open the box between them. It held a bottle of chilled champagne and glasses.
“At this time in the morning? No.”
“On the way back then.”
If there was anything to celebrate. Linton was still trying to pluck up the courage to talk to him.
“So what else haven’t you done?” Thorne asked with a smile.
“Never bungee-jumped, parachuted, swum in shark-infested waters or had a pet.”
“Wow, we have so much in common.” Thorne grinned.
“Have I said thank you enough for doing this? Dirk is such a pain in the neck but he’s my pain in the neck. I’m all he’s got. I have to put him first.” Linton hoped Thorne was listening to what he was saying.
“I understand that. I admire that, apart from putting him first—that shouldn’t be automatic. But I do get it. How could I not with River as my brother?”
“I want to strangle the little fucker sometimes.”
Thorne laughed. “I’ve had the same feeling about mine, then I’m riddled with guilt. River can’t help the way he is.”
“Dirk can.”
“Well no he can’t, otherwise he wouldn’t be in rehab, would he?”
“But Dirk had choices, River doesn’t.”
“That’s true but don’t underestimate the power of addiction. I’m beginning to think I know what it’s like to want something so much you can barely breathe until you have it.”
Oh God. Does he mean me? Thorne’s gaze made Linton’s cheeks burn.
“I do adore chocolate,” Linton said. “Can’t resist it.”
Thorne chuckled.
“It must have been hard growing up, living with someone who’s autistic.” Linton tried to switch the conversation back to safer ground.
Thorne pried Linton’s hand off the arm rest and rubbed his thumb over his palm. “It was hard. I wish our parents had understood. It was as though they went out of their way to ignore River’s issues.”
“Maybe they were trying to be fair and not show him more attention than you.”
“No. I already told you what they were like. What they’re still like. I honestly don’t think they cared. They saw us both as embarrassing but for different reasons. When I was a child, I played up so that River looked less bad. When I reached my mid-teens, I thought maybe the way to get them to notice us was by compensating for what River didn’t have that I did. I decided I wanted to be the best at everything. I had this drive inside me to go further, be brighter, faster, funnier than anyone else. I don’t think I was even aware my success made River look even more out of place. I can’t switch off that drive. I know I can be an egotistical wanker, but now I understand I can’t pull River along with me. All I can do is care for him, try my best not to let him get hurt, and that’s why I want to help you to help Dirk.”
“Thank you,” Linton whispered.
“I’d like a big thank you later.”
When the helicopter landed, Thorne stayed in his seat. “The pilot has to go for fuel. I’ll go with him. Probably best if I’m not seen at a rehab centre. We’ll be back at noon. Okay? We have to start the return journey by two so that should give you enough time to slap some sense into your brother.”
Linton unbuckled his seat belt, leaned over and kissed him. Thorne groaned, pulled him onto his lap, and Linton felt the hard ridge of Thorne’s cock sandwiched between them.
Thorne eased him off with a low moan. “Fuck off before I break our pilot’s rules.”
After another warning about keeping clear of the rotors, the pilot guided Linton away from the craft. Linton waited at a distance until the helicopter had taken off. Thorne waved and Linton waved back.
Linton didn’t wait long in reception before he was shown to Dirk’s room. Dirk sat on the bed looking pale and drawn, and Linton perched next to him.
“You okay?” Linton asked.
“How the fuck did you get here so fast?”
“Helicopter.”
“That was what I heard? Who paid for that? Same person who paid for this place?”
“No.”
“Is that bruise on your face from Budak?”
Linton rubbed his cheek. “The remains of it. Yeah.”
“The police came. I sort of stuck to my story. I said the two guys had stopped to help, but I lost consciousness. Will Thorne keep quiet?”
“I think so.”
Dirk swallowed. “Are you okay?”
“I will be if you stay here.”
“You’ve done something stupid to pay for this. Tell me what.”
Linton ignored the question. “How’s everything going?”
“I’ve had a couple of meltdowns. Kicked the wall, broke a chair and a window. Cut myself.”
Linton raised his eyebrows.
“They were fucking nice about it which made me feel a shit, but pain helps me feel better. Blood helps me feel better.”
Oh God.
Dirk slumped. “I’m such a loser.”
“You’re not.”
Dirk gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I am. You’ve told me I am often enough. Everyone’s said it. Look at me. In a posh rehab with plenty to do and I can’t even hack that. I want a line of blow or some G. I want to forget.”
“Oh God. G is fucking dangerous, Dirk. It’s easy to overdose on it.”
“But you feel so good when you take it.”
“If you thought you were going to talk me into taking you back with me, saying that is hardly the way to do it, you pillock.”
Dirk edged closer and pressed his face into Linton’s shoulder. “I know I need to stay but I’m worried about you. Did you get the money for here from Budak?”
Linton wrapped his arm around him. “I already told you I didn’t.”
“Was it from Pascal?”
Linton tried not to react to that. “No. We’re done. I borrowed it from Max and I’m paying him back out of my wages.”
Dirk pulled away and looked him in the face. “I know how much you earn. It’ll take you years. Why would he lend you all that?”
“Because I’m a good employee.”
“And a crap liar. Shit, Linton. Tell me the truth or I’ll walk out.”
Linton chewed his lip. “Promise to stay if I tell you?”
“Yes.”
Linton wanted Dirk to tell him he’d done a good thing, the right thing. “When Thorne dumped Owen, he publicly humiliated both Owen and Max. Plus Max lost the commission to design Thorne’s new house and Thorne said some bad things about him as an architect that were reported in an architectural journal. Now Max wants to get his own back.”
Dirk’s eyes widened. “You’re with Thorne because Max wants you with him?”
“I’m with Thorne because I want to be with him but yeah, Max sort of engineered it. But I had no idea Thorne would be in that pub. How could I?”
“That kiss. You dangled bait.”
Linton nodded. But it had been more than that.
“Max loaned you all that money to fuck up Thorne’s life? And you agreed just
so you could send me here?” Dirk gaped at him. “What did he want you to do?”
“Humiliate Thorne in the way he’d humiliated him and Owen, but I never intended to do it. I was going to string it out as long as I could in the hope they’d change their mind.”
“Fuck, Linton. From what you’ve ever said to me about Max, he’s always sounded like the sort of guy who’d break your legs if you pissed him off.”
“He’s more inventive than that.”
“So have he and Owen changed their minds?”
“No. But I discovered Owen cheated on Thorne which was why Thorne dumped him, but Max doesn’t know. At the beginning of the week I told Max and Owen I wouldn’t go on with this anymore. So now I have to do crap jobs at the office and work long hours to pay him back. But it’s fine.” No, it wasn’t.
“Does Thorne know what Max wanted you to do?”
Linton let out a shaky sigh. “I have tried so many times to tell him and I just keep losing my bottle. I like him. I really like him and I’m afraid when he knows what’s been going on, he’ll walk away. He should walk away.”
“Let’s go outside and you can tell me everything right from the beginning.”
“Promise me you’ll stay. If I’ve fucked up things with Thorne, I don’t want it to have been for nothing.”
“I promise.”
They walked around the grounds talking in a way they hadn’t done for years. Linton had known Dirk had lost his way, but hadn’t realised how far off the track he’d strayed. Yet nothing Dirk had ended up doing seemed as bad as what Linton had done to Thorne.
The drone of the returning helicopter filled the air and they tipped their heads back and watched as it flew over the building. Linton wondered if Thorne could see him. Maybe the last time he’d see Linton and still want him. The pain of that compressed his chest.
Dirk squeezed his fingers. “It’ll be okay.”
It made a change for Dirk to be trying to comfort him. “I’m not sure it will.”
“Tell him before you get in the helicopter.”
“In case he decides to throw me out?”
Dirk winced. “Well, yeah. Assuming that doesn’t happen, but things don’t work out anyway, what are you going to do?”
Linton shrugged. “Pick myself up and carry on.”
“Don’t resort to drugs or three in a bed. Not even three guys.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Dirk took a deep breath. “All my life I’ve tried to let pain flow over me without letting it touch me. A bit like standing at the back of a waterfall and watching the torrent fall in front of me but I only get a bit wet, not drenched. Except sometimes, I stepped into the flow and let it soak me. Other times I was pushed. You’ve always been there to pull me back to safety. I haven’t said thank you as much as I should have.”
“Dirk, I—”
“I know you blame yourself for the way I’ve turned out but you shouldn’t. You’re my brother, not my parent.”
Dirk pulled him down to sit on the grassy bank and they leaned back on their elbows and looked out toward the moors.
“I’ve fucked up my life,” Dirk said quietly. “I hate myself for that. I have sex with people because I want them to like me, because I want them to want to stay with me. But sex doesn’t make people stay. Not even good sex.”
“Bad sex definitely won’t though.”
Dirk let out a strangled laugh. “I thought music might save me. It helped me communicate, gave me an outlet for my sadness, my anger, but it wasn’t enough. I was desperate for things to be different. I wanted to be someone and look at me now. I feel like I’m going through a long painful death. I never did want I wanted, never achieved what I could have.”
“It’s not too late.”
“I don’t like that people look down on me and think I’m worthless.”
“You’re not worthless. Get through this and I’ll help you. We can do something together. Start a business.”
“With what? Doing what? You’ve bankrupted yourself to put me here.”
“We can start small. There are lots of things we can do. You could teach guitar. I could teach drawing. I’ll be there for you no matter what. I promise.”
“I love you.”
“I’m…very fond of you.”
Dirk laughed. “Is it going to kill you to say it?”
“Probably.”
“I’ve got a confession.”
Linton’s heart thumped.
“You remember asking me where I went in your car?”
Linton nodded.
“I found Dad.”
Linton hadn’t thought anything Dirk did could surprise him but that had.
“He lives in Thurso,” Dirk said.
“Where the hell is that?”
“Caithness. Right at the top of Scotland.”
Linton had a million questions. He had no questions.
“He gave up banking,” Dirk said. “He’s an artist. He does portraits on commission. People and animals. He’s good.”
Was that where Linton’s artistic ability had come from? “Does he have another family?”
Dirk nodded. “Yep. A wife and a boy and girl in their teens.”
“Is…is he happy?” Did he miss us? Did he care what happened after he’d gone?
“Yeah, he is. He was really pleased to see me. He looked for us but…yeah, well, we know why he couldn’t find us.”
They’d changed their surname. Linton had been paranoid about their mother finding them—him. She wouldn’t have wanted to find Dirk, except as a route to Linton. But now Linton felt guilty.
“I didn’t think he’d look for us,” Linton said. “He obviously didn’t before we changed our name.”
They’d talked about doing it when Dirk was sixteen and actually gone through with it a year later.
“He said he sent us stuff but it was all returned.”
Fuck.
“I went up twice, but it’s a hell of a drive. I slept overnight in the car to save money. Dad paid for my fuel.”
Linton felt furious with himself for being jealous. It had been his choice to change their names, his choice not to look for their father. He had no right to be annoyed.
“I asked him about Mum. He said she was dead. Cancer. Five years ago.”
Linton shut his eyes for a moment. He wanted to smile but knew he’d feel bad if he did.
“I asked him why she was so mean to me and not to you. I sort of hinted that maybe I wasn’t his child.” Dirk chewed his nail. “Maybe she’d been raped or something.”
Linton couldn’t help tensing. “What did he say?”
“That I was his son and you weren’t.”
Linton let out a startled gasp. “What?”
“She had an affair. Dad didn’t know you weren’t his until you were six. By then, she’d had me. It was Dad who gave me the name Dirk. He comes from Scotland originally. I look just like him in pictures of him when he was in his twenties. And I look like my brother. I mean Dad’s other son.”
Linton was glad he was sitting down. He pulled at the grass, and shredded it in his fingers as he felt something shrivelling up inside him. So his artistic ability hadn’t come from the guy he’d thought was his father and his mother had died without telling him who his father was.
“Doesn’t make any difference,” Dirk said. “Not to you and me. You’re the best brother I could have ever wanted. I know you won’t say it back but I do love you.”
Linton felt bowed down with guilt. His head ached. “If I hadn’t made you change your name, he could have found you sooner. Oh fuck, your life could have been completely different. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologise. I was happy to change my name to Williams. You were all that was important to me. Sharing a name that was ours made me happy. And you’re right. He had all that time until I was seventeen to find me and he didn’t.”
So who’s my father?
“He doesn’t know who your father is.�
��
Not hard for Dirk to guess that was what he was thinking. Linton wondered if his mother had even told the guy.
“Dad left because she was making him miserable. He resented her trapping him into a conventional life. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of kids because it meant he couldn’t paint and had to keep his job to pay the mortgage. I told him that was a fucking shitty thing to do, to leave us with her because he had to have seen that we were miserable too. Especially me. But he said there was no way he’d have got custody and there seemed little point wasting money on lawyers when they wouldn’t succeed. He thought she’d be better if he wasn’t around.”
How convenient, Linton thought. Justifying his bad behaviour to make it look selfless.
“He gave her money for us. He thought she’d sent me to boarding school with you. He didn’t realise she hadn’t.”
“So he hadn’t looked for us, wondered about us. He’d just walked away one day and pretended he’d never had a family, then decided at some point that he’d start another.” Linton bristled with anger.
“I was angry too,” Dirk said. “He said he was sorry. He’d like the chance to say sorry to you.”
I don’t give a fuck.
“Will you go and see him?”
“No.”
“He’s still our dad.”
Yours, not mine.
“I think Mum was cruel to me because she blamed me for Dad leaving,” Dirk said. “She couldn’t get at him, so she picked on me. She must have really loved whoever your dad was.”
Linton doubted his mother had ever loved anyone. If she’d loved his birth father, why hadn’t she married him? “What a fucked-up lot we are.”
“Maybe there’s a way of finding out who your father is. We could try Mum’s relations.”
“No,” Linton snapped. “Promise me you won’t look.”
“As if I would.”
“You might if you thought you were doing me a favour.”
“But what if your father doesn’t know about you? What if—”
“I don’t care. Please leave it, Dirk.”
The air filled with the sound of the helicopter taking off and Linton frowned. He checked his phone but it was only twelve thirty. He watched it head away from The Moors and his heart lurched. Where was it going?
Dirty Games Page 27