Chris shook his head. “I said too much already.”
“Why does Nick want to end his own life?” I whispered, mind spiraling back to those last few minutes Noah was still alive.
Lips quirking to a sardonic smile, Chris humored me. “You know the answers to those questions. Think back, think hard.”
So tempting to tell the smirking bastard to go fuck himself, but I listened to his advice. I replayed the events in my head. One moment Noah held the gun, the next, Nick did. Nifty magic trick, but I always wondered why in those last few seconds, Noah stopped fighting and let Nick pull the trigger.
That house of nightmares hid all the clues, photos showing two boys wearing identical bruises, a tree in the backyard where nothing else grew. Nick watched Noah’s back from childhood to adulthood, blind to his faults, thinking he could save Noah, or at the very least, salvage the brother knew. He continued lived in that house, enduring the old ghosts, leaving the front door open so he could welcome Noah home, even if that meant putting a bullet into his brain.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
No wonder Nick kept pushing me to leave. Bastard had the script of the entire play ready and waited for the final curtain to fall. A distraction—that was all I was.
No, I refused to believe that. I’d been something more, but blood would always be thicker than water. Still, Nick had killed for me, accepting the price for his sin.
Chris let out a sigh. “Go home, Julian. There’s nothing for you there. Nick risked all to save your life. Don’t do him the discourtesy of throwing away the gift of life.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “And letting him commit suicide, is that any better? Isn’t his life valuable as mine? Are you telling me to forget, too? To try and live a normal and vanilla life that’s slowly killing me like poison?”
“If you allow me, I’ll help you heal. Maybe I can help you find a Dom who will be able to give you the pain to help you forget about Nick and Noah.”
I dug my nails into the armrests of my chair, leaving marks on the wood. “I don’t want to forget.”
“I see. That’s fine for now.”
Not the reaction I’d been expecting.
Chris took out a plain white card from his wallet and slid it across the table—a business card with name and cell phone underneath. Surprisingly, Chris worked as a lawyer at a major law firm in the area. Funny, I couldn’t picture him in a suit or in court.
“I can’t—” I began, but Chris cut me off.
“Take it, so you’ll know how to reach me. You might not feel like it now, but my line’s always open.” Chris smiled. “We can be friends.”
“Friends?” I repeated, running out of ammunition.
“We’ll take baby steps, Julian. I won’t push you into something you’re not ready for,” Chris explained, tone reassuring, soothing.
“That sounds good actually,” I replied, meaning it.
Why bother to hide behind my armor of hostility when Chris tried to help?
Numbed, I reached for the card. Taking matters as resolved, Chris accompanied me out of the office, his hand on my back, pushing me lightly. Forward if I wanted, away from the hell I’d willingly walked into when I refused to leave Nick’s side after he rescued me.
“You don’t need to walk me back to the reception,” I murmured.
Scores of Doms and subs we passed gave us looks, gazes lingering one me.
“Can’t risk a curious Dom pawing at you, can I?” Chris asked in a teasing voice, flashing me a wolfish grin.
“Thank you.” Back at the reception area, I tucked his card into my pocket. “I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior.”
“That’s understandable. If you need anything, to simply talk even if it’s about ordinary things, you have my number.” Chris gave my arm a squeeze, before returning to the club.
“Hope to see you again,” Vera chirped when I was halfway through the doors leading back to the parking lot.
“Same,” I whispered, patting the little card in my pocket.
Once outside, I closed my eyes, enjoying the tickle of the night breeze. While I didn’t find the answers to my questions, I came away with something else tonight—a strange sense of peace. Driving back home, I felt the weight of Chris’s card in my pocket, despite the paper not weighing a thing.
I thought back on all those days we’d spent together, weighed them against Nick’s reasons for releasing me back to the world. Parking the car in front of Tony and my apartment, I wrenched my shaking hands from the wheel and leaned against the seat.
I didn’t feel any better at all. Meeting Chris had given me another option, a road I didn’t consider, fearing I’d meet another Dom like Noah. Noah had been my sole connection to that world, but not anymore. I’d been handed a key to another door to a possible future, to walk away from the past and all its trappings, if I possessed the courage to use it.
“I’m not brave. I’m a coward who can’t let one man go,” I whispered, furiously rubbing at my eyelids.
Nick predicted I’d come calling on him at his club. Sending Chris my way, shouldn’t that be the final killing blow confirming the truth I continued to deny? Nick went this far to convince me to move on. Shouldn’t I be a little more responsible for my future? I didn’t need him watching my back.
Noah didn’t break me. He’d shattered me, forcing Nick to pick up the fragments. The rest fell to me.
Composing myself, I rubbed at my eyes, making sure I didn’t look like a wreck before stepping out of the car. Tony waited for me upstairs, someone who cared and worried. I shouldn’t let him see me like this.
“How did your date go?” Tony asked the moment I enter the apartment.
“We broke up, but I met someone else. He might be a game-changer.” This must be the first time a lie didn’t come out of my mouth.
Tony’s eyes widened. “What? Details, Julian.”
“Sorry, not tonight. I’m beat, but I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Refusing to elaborate, I retired to my room, sunk into my bed and stared at my ceiling.
Tomorrow, I’ll start thinking about calling Chris up on his offer. I’d procrastinate, debate for hours, but in the end, I’d put it off for another time. Tomorrow, but the world never runs out of tomorrows. Someday though, I’d be able to pick up the phone.
Chapter Sixteen
Nick
“Thanks for letting me know,” I told Chris.
Chris paused and I knew I should slam the receiver down, but since we’ve been friends for a long time, I waited. “Nick, Julian deserves better.”
“I never thought I’d see the day sentimentality would get the better of you, Master C,” I joked, but it wasn’t funny. Neither of us laughed.
Before this whole mess with Noah, I told Chris everything. Both co-owners and in the charge of monitoring the floor of The Riding Crop, we instantly hit it off. We shared the same interests and occasionally, a rare sub, but I’d cut ties to my old life after going off the grid with Julian.
“Nick, I’ve known you for a few years now, but you’ve omitted certain details of what happened with Noah, didn’t you?” Chris asked, sighing heavily when I offered nothing more.
“Chris, just promise to do me this one last favor,” I eventually said.
“I’ll take care of your boy, make sure he’s heading for the right direction, but I also wanted to let you know what he thought, that you undervalue your own life.”
“He thinks too much of me, that there’s good left in an old husk like me.”
“If I knew where the fuck you were, I’d beat some sense into you,” Chris muttered, the anger in his voice making me blink.
He’s the most stable Dom I knew. Ex-special forces, Chris shook off the dust off his law certificate after coming back from Iraq. Nothing fazed him. I knew Chris would help Julian find a suitable Dom.
“No use. I made my fucking choice. Is that all?”
“Yeah. Normally, I’d tell you to take care, but it’s useless in this case.”
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“You’re a good friend, Chris.”
“Better than you deserve.”
I grinned. “I know.”
Chris cut the line. Relieved Julian would be in safe hands, that he finally made contact with Chris, I placed the burner phone down. I walked to the mirror hanging on the door of the closet of my old room. Knowing this house would be the first place Julian would come looking I’d abandoned the place, made it look like I left in a hurry. I checked into a hotel in the city, tidying up the last of my legal affairs.
Julian said I undervalued my life. Did I?
It made me question my decision to leave him. Was I fulfilling my promise to Noah, or simply running away, terrified I’d end up like my brother, end up hurting Julian? Tainted blood ran in my veins. When I looked into the mirror, I sometimes saw Noah’s face, not so different from mine. My brother had had wild eyes, bloodshot ones, when he came after Julian and me.
I visualized an invisible ticking time-bomb inside me where every precious second mattered. How long until I blew up, until I lost my ability to hold onto logic, to my control? All the Holt men inherited a nasty temper.
Shaking my head at my reflection, I took a cold shower and got ready for Sunday church, the last service I’d attend. My mother would be proud. Leaving the last button of my white shirt, I shrugged on a blazer and put on my newly pressed trousers. Always dress well for church, my mother liked to say.
Noah had once complained she forced us to wear the suffocating long-sleeved shirts and jackets to hide the bruises our father left behind. My brother liked calling her coward, for not seeking help from the parish, from the local authorities, from anyone really. In a way, all of three of us had been trapped in that endless spiral of a nightmare. We couldn’t open our mouths, simply took the hurt on the outside and let the pain within fester.
I paid the old tree behind the house a visit, not planning to linger.
“Wait for me, brother.”
I fished out my mother’s old rosary from my pocket, my old lucky charm. Would be nice to believe her old ghost gave me the courage to open Noah’s closet door, to get Julian the hell out of the prison my brother made for him.
I fingered each of the scarred beads, wondering why the rope never unraveled after the hard use, after the numerous times I rubbed them for luck, for protection, as if a man like me needed any protection.
“This is yours now. She’ll keep you safe.”
My actions didn’t make any sense, but whatever. I left the rosary on top of the turned earth, smiling at the sight of one stubborn weed growing there. There might be hope for Noah’s soul in purgatory, or whatever he ended up in, after all.
I gave his grave a mock salute, spat on my father’s grave, and headed out to the driveway. All the arrangements had been made. I didn’t want to be buried in the backyard or at the church graveyard where my mother rested. Cremation’s the way to go.
I patted the inner pocket of my jacket, reassured by the weight there.
“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, there won’t be anything of me left.” I drove up to the church and endured the greetings of the same congregation, the well-wishers and the gossip whores.
They asked how my brother was doing, encouraged me to try harder so he could return to God. Right.
The afterlife for Noah wouldn’t be fluffy clouds and angels. Suicides went to hell, too. The questions died down once service started. I didn’t know why I kept coming to church, why I continued carrying my mother’s rosary. The sermon calmed me, even though I didn’t hear the words. The familiar rituals and motions that had endured centuries gave me a sense of peace.
Not that day though.
My thoughts circled around Julian, like a man obsessed and who couldn’t let go.
In my mind, I saw Julian kneeling at Chris’s feet, when he belonged at mine, Julian offering his tender neck for Chris to put the collar on. I clenched my fists, my imagination going off its leash.
“Are you all right, son? You’re looking a little red,” said elderly Mrs. Fritz to my left.
She offered me a lace handkerchief, which I politely declined. I must be off my game, if others noticed my discomfort. Noah liked being the center of attention, but I liked the cool and comfort of the shadows.
Molding my face into the unreadable mask I’d perfected, I reached out to the God I hated, never believed in, and prayed for the strength to forget, to do what was right. Right for Julian or myself, I didn’t know. Like always, I remained in the pew while the congregation accepted the body of Christ.
I sat there, wondering what Julian was doing now. This time next week, would he be going out on his first date with someone Chris introduced? I knew it wouldn’t be long before Julian let another Dom through the armor around his heart. I knew Julian would yield beautifully. Perfect.
“Nick? You take care of yourself.”
I blinked at Mrs. Fritz, not realizing most of the parishioners had gone home. Where did all the time go? The altar remained empty with the exception of altar boys tidying up. Mrs. Fritz always looked ancient, even in the past.
I remembered the way my lungs burned, chasing after Noah. He always had the legs, the speed, even at thirteen. She lived right across the street from us, but the gravel road seemed to go on forever. I glimpsed Noah’s back, black and blue peering underneath his white shirt if you looked close enough.
“Don’t,” I remembered telling him, panting. He finally stopped, mouth an angry line, eyes hard like stone, lacking emotion. “If we tell anyone, it’s going to get worse for her, for us.”
Once a coward, always a coward. All my life, it felt like I’d chased after Noah’s back. If I were the shadow, my brother was the bright star that soon lost its shine.
“And don’t listen to the others. They have nothing else to talk about.” Mrs. Fritz reached out, fixing my lopsided tie with vein-lined and wrinkled fingers. “I’m sure your brother would come back home soon.”
I don’t tell her he’s already home, his bones forever resting in the backyard.
Smiling at Mrs. Fritz, I gently took her fingers and hold them in mine. “I’m sure he will. Can I walk you back to your car?”
She shook her head.
“I’m perfectly capable of heading back to my car, young man,” she stated. Mrs. Fritz still called me that even though I was no longer young. She nodded to the cross dominating the back of the altar and continued, “I think you want more alone time with the Lord.”
After watching her limp her way across the aisle, I looked back at the cross.
“Forgive me, for I’m about to follow my brother into death,” I whispered soft enough only I could hear the words.
Turning away, I headed out, footsteps creaking on the old wooden floors of the St. Anne’s church. Sunlight blinded me when I stepped outside. I shielded my eyes, to see my avenging angel of death. Despite the piss poor disguise, the fucking hood over his head, I recognized Julian. With shaking hands, he pointed the gun at me, keeping his distance. Safety off, finger on the trigger, shadows lingered under his eyes and his lips were curved into a hard smile.
Silently, I willed him to do it, to end my miserable existence, yet a part of me howled and wept for what I’d reduced him to—to this mess of a young man. I couldn’t let Julian shoot, refused to allow him to bear the weight of this one sin that could haunt him for the rest of his life. I was taking my own life and bearing the consequences.
“Nick.”
I wished he didn’t open his mouth, because my name on his lips told me everything. Julian whispered it like a silent prayer, a plea for salvation.
“Julian.” Odd to hear myself utter the syllables out loud.
Fuck. All I wanted to do was sweep him into my arms, toss aside that stupid piece of metal between us, and stroke his back. Tell him fixing my massive fuck-up and putting us back together again was still possible. I took a step closer, halting when he shook his head, eyes narrowed to slits.
“I’ll shoot. I fucking swear
I will,” Julian said, voice ragged.
Time came to a halt, but I didn’t stop moving. Each distance I crossed, his hands started to shake a little more, until I pressed my chest against the barrel, trusting Julian wouldn’t shoot the man he loved.
Love. What an unspeakably simple little word. Yes, I loved this brave man with every fiber of my being, enough to let him go, or so I thought.
“Let’s stop playing games, baby. You won’t shoot me. You can’t.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I said I will.” Julian sounded panicked, eyes wild.
I gripped the barrel of the gun with my fingers, tugging, unsurprised that Julian let go without a fight. Clicking the safety on, I tucked the weapon of murder into my jacket. Two guns weighed me down now.
“You broke my fucking heart, Nick. My soul hurts,” he whispered.
Julian looked torn between punching me or melting into my arms. I deserved the latter, looked forward to the former. Without the gun acting as a barrier, I took those last steps, sliding one hand across his cheek. Leaning in close, I licked away the salt of his tears. He gripped me, held onto me tight and inhaled deep, like he wanted to imprint my scent.
“You’re such a mean fucker, Nick.”
“Now, now, Julian. You’re forgetting who’s in charge here.”
Lips quivering, Julian balled his hands into fists, punching me in the gut, the shoulder, blows I hardly felt. I let him exhaust himself, until he slumped against me, still crying. I made him cry. The realization made me feel like the world’s biggest prick. Julian clutched my suit, tugged my tie down and leveled his tear-streaked face at me.
“Don’t leave me, Nick. It’s fucking selfish of you to take your own life.”
“Selfish?” I prodded, sounding tired to my own ears.
Making a break for it never occurred to me. Two guns weighed me down. The first belonged to my grandfather, which had taken my father's life and Noah's. The second didn’t have a story to tell yet and looked like a new purchase.
His Brand of Love Page 11