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by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  “Yes, yes, here they are.” His mother dashed in, deposited the laces, and dashed back out again. Her son opened the package and began lacing up a shoe.

  “So Michael’s gone?” Alec asked.

  “Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry. He’s moved back to Liverpool, back in with his parents, sorry to say.” He began looking around his chair for something. Alec discovered another black shoe by his seat and passed it to him. “Oh, cheers.”

  “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

  Lincoln paused in his lacing and looked at Alec. “He ain’t comin’ back, mate.” His face fell, and he went back to fixing his shoe.

  “Can you tell me what happened? Why’d he freak out at the party?”

  Lincoln sighed, finished tying his shoe, and then looked around to make sure his mother was still in the kitchen. “At first I thought it was because he’d come back to work too soon after, that all those tossers—no offense—all that noise, and stress of the job had set him off.”

  “Too soon after what?”

  Lincoln lowered his voice. “After….” He stopped and didn’t seem able to continue.

  “Look, I realize something happened, something traumatic, but I came here because I’d like to help if I can.”

  Lincoln nodded. “When I got him home, got him all tucked in bed and all… you have to understand, he hadn’t said a word all the way here, not a peep.”

  “Then… you got him tucked in and what?”

  “He told me he saw him.”

  “Who? Saw who?” Alec moved forward onto the edge of his chair.

  “The wanker who hurt him.”

  “He was bashed? That can do a lot of damage, and not just physically. My boy—”

  “No, he wasn’t bashed. He was forced….”

  Alec’s eyes went wide. “He was raped?”

  “Shush now! Mum’s in there.”

  “Sorry.”

  “She’s worried about me enough bein’ in London!” he hissed. Lincoln stood and grabbed a container of deodorant from the mantel, rolling it under each arm before buttoning his shirt. “Mum? Tie?”

  She ran in again with his tie. “I’ll have your vest done straight away.” She turned to go but stopped and whirled back around. “Would you like some tea or somethin’?” she asked Alec. “I’ve got the kettle on. I’m afraid there’s not much else to offer. The boys don’t know how to shop properly.”

  “No, Mum. He’s only here to check on Mickey. He’s the bloke who helped us at the party.”

  “Oh, I see. That was a shame. Mickey and my boy grew up together back home and then this one decides he wants to move to the big, flashy city and leaves his mate all alone.”

  “Mum….”

  “Mickey finally makes it here and less than a year later, he’s been mugged and suffered a breakdown.”

  “Mum….”

  “Now he’s home where he belongs, but you can’t tell this one nothin’. Big cities are dangerous, but you know that, don’t you? You’re American, yeah?”

  Alec nodded.

  “I thought so.” She moved to the arm of her son’s chair and sat. “You probably have shootings and such all the time, don’t ya?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Mum, vest!”

  Lincoln’s mother squeaked, smacked her son on the bottom, hopped up, and rushed from the room to check on her ironing.

  Alec waited a few seconds and then looked up at Lincoln. “Mugged?”

  “He’s not out to the family. He couldn’t very well tell them what really happened, now could he?”

  “What really happened?”

  Lincoln sat and told Alec that after Michael moved in with him, he had quickly started going out every night, feeling free to be himself for the first time. They went clubbing and partying every weekend when they were off or sometimes right after a job. One might Michael met someone he described as “the most beautiful man he’d ever seen” and disappeared with him.

  Lincoln looked at the floor. “I probably should have kept a closer eye on him.” He looked up sharply at Alec. “He didn’t come home all night, and the next mornin’ over breakfast, I saw bruises on his neck and arms. I asked about them, but all he’d say was things got a bit rough.”

  “You thought there was more to it?”

  “Only after he started havin’ trouble fallin’ asleep, stopped goin’ out, and then started wakin’ up screamin’.”

  “Did he see someone, a therapist?”

  Lincoln shook his head. “After a while he seemed fine, like his old self. The nightmares stopped, and we even went out a couple of times. I thought he was comin’ out of it—until the party, that is.”

  “So you don’t know this guy’s name or what he looks like?” Alec asked, his thoughts racing back to all the unfamiliar faces he’d seen at the party.

  Lincoln shook his head. “All he ever said was ‘he was beautiful’. Won’t say no more about him.” He looked at Alec sadly. “Doesn’t exactly narrow things down, does it?”

  “Your friend needs to see someone, talk to someone.” Alec stood and fished a business card out of his wallet. It made his blood run cold to think of that kid surrounded by people who didn’t even know who he truly was while he had this horrible, painful secret inside him. “If you’re still in touch with him, try to get through to him. I’ll help if I can, if he’ll let me.”

  Lincoln took the card, looked at it, and pocketed it. “Thanks, mate.” He smiled. “I’d like to have him back, it’s true.”

  “Vest.” Lincoln’s mother stood by, holding his red vest up for her son to take.

  “Thank you, Mum.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll bring a nice dinner home for us, okay? I shouldn’t be too late.”

  His mother followed Alec and Lincoln to the door. “Are you some kind of doctor?” she asked Alec. “You know Lincoln has a lovely single sister.”

  “Mum!”

  Alec chuckled nervously.

  “Or if you’re… uh… Lincoln isn’t seeing anyone.”

  Alec laughed out loud, and Lincoln, struck dumb, stared at his mother as if she’d suddenly grown antlers.

  “I appreciate that, ma’am, but I am seeing someone.”

  “Just for that,” Lincoln said, shaking his finger at her, “I’m not bringin’ you puddin’.”

  “Then you won’t be gettin’ back in, will ya?”

  They laughed, and he kissed her on the cheek again before she closed and locked the door after them. He and Alec walked out. When they reached the sidewalk, there was a car filled with men dressed similarly to Lincoln waiting at the curb. He waved to Alec before climbing in. As they drove away, Alec could swear he heard one of the men shout, “Who’s the lovely?”

  Chapter 13

  ALEC tried to enter the house as quietly as possible. He wasn’t very graceful about it, however, because his muscles were beginning to stiffen from his exertions during training with his team. He shed his jacket and hung it on the hall tree before heading for the stairs. His foot was on the third step when he heard Ilsa shout from the kitchen, “Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “Erm, I just need to wash up, thanks.” He took another step and paused. “Is Eli home?”

  After a moment of silence, he heard, “I’m here.” There was nothing further, and he heard something odd in Eli’s tone, but he shook it off and dashed up the rest of the stairs to shower and change.

  When he came back down, freshly scrubbed and starving, Eli and Ilsa were already seated in the dining room.

  “Hello,” Alec said brightly, leaning in to kiss Eli before taking his seat next to him and giving his thigh an affectionate squeeze. No one else said anything as he opened his napkin and fanned it over his lap. “This smells wonderful, Ilsa.” He lifted the lid on a large dish in the center of the table, but the continued silence gave him pause.

  With Tony and Lyle gone, he knew things might be quieter, but this was strange and uncomfortable. He took a good long look at their faces. Eli’s eyes were fixed on his pla
te, and Ilsa looked as if she’d been crying.

  A shudder ran through Alec. “What’s happened?”

  Eli didn’t say anything. He just reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, sliding it along the table toward him. Alec picked it up and read it.

  “Oh, he called back. Great!”

  Ilsa bristled and left the table, taking her dinner with her. Alec watched her, perplexed.

  “How could you go forward with this without discussing it with me?” Eli asked.

  “Eli—”

  “You have to understand this is coming out of nowhere. You only just mentioned it Monday and—”

  “You heard me?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. Eli didn’t speak. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I needed time to think.”

  Alec stared into his boyfriend’s eyes, but he heard Lyle’s voice in his head bringing up Bennett. He felt chilled and removed his hands from the table, resting them in his lap where Eli wouldn’t see them if they started to shake. He tried to smile but failed.

  Ilsa left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Alec jumped up and caught her before she got too far. “Ilsa, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just—”

  “I asked you to move in here to help Eli get over—” her eyes darted to Eli, then back to Alec—“not to undo my family.”

  “Ilsa, that’s not fair.”

  “No, no it’s not, but I’m not going to pretend I’m happy to lose him too.”

  “You’re not losing him. You’ll never lose him.”

  She wasn’t listening. Her eyes roamed over the walls and rooms of the house. Alec followed her gaze, puzzled at first but then taking in the photographs, Tony’s early artwork, a pillow Lyle had helped Ilsa embroider for the sofa—Alec grinned slightly, remembering the string of profanity that had been involved—a vase Bennett had given her for her first birthday in the house, the hall table where everyone’s mail was still piling up. Alec followed her eyes to Eli’s bedroom door, and then the two of them looked at each other. Her heated gaze drilled into him as she said, “First Bennett, Tony, Lyle, and now Eli and you.”

  Alec cringed at the emphasis she placed on that ‘you,’ and feared she was wishing he’d never moved in.

  “We haven’t gone anywhere, Ilsa. You’re being—”

  “If you say irrational, I’ll punch you.”

  “We are not your pets!” Alec’s outburst silenced both of them. He had surprised himself. “I know you love them,” he continued more calmly, “but you also want them to be happy, right? No matter where that is?”

  She took one step back down toward him. “And if Eli is happy here?”

  Alec didn’t say anything. What if Eli is happier here… here with all his memories of Bennett? No, this had gotten too heated too fast. It didn’t make sense. They were pulling too hard in opposite directions out of… fear? She was being ridiculous. They all were. He won’t look at me when we make love.

  “Y-you could move into Tony and Lyle’s old room,” Ilsa added hopefully. “I was going to take it, but it’s big enough for the two of you, and we were just up there earlier.” She glanced at Eli as he approached them. “It wouldn’t be that tough for you to manage, right?”

  Eli held up a hand to silence her and turned to face Alec. “I’m not ready.”

  “Why?” Alec asked.

  “I don’t see the need.”

  “Eli, your room is too small for us to share, and mine… well, it may be large enough, but it’s on the top floor and too difficult for you to reach every day.” Alec paused, looking at Ilsa. “And taking the other bedroom isn’t going to work, either. It’s still an unnecessary flight of stairs.” He paused again, but Eli didn’t appear to have anything to add. Alec reached out for him, gripping his shoulders. “I want to wake up next to you and not have to rush elsewhere to get dressed and ready for the day.” He ran his fingers through Eli’s hair and rested his palm against his face. “I want us to really live together… as a couple. Can’t you understand that?”

  “I hear you, Alec, but the situation we have isn’t all that different from a couple living at different flats and—”

  Alec sighed, closed his eyes, and began massaging the bridge of his nose.

  “Please don’t do that,” Eli said.

  Alec looked at him and took a deep breath. “Just tell me one thing.” Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask.

  “What?”

  “Tell me that your reluctance isn’t because of… Bennett.” Ilsa looked sharply at Eli as Alec continued. “This is the home you shared with him. Tell me that’s not why you won’t consider it.”

  Eli glanced between them. “Why would you think that?”

  “I can’t think of any other reason, and you’re not offering me one.”

  “Here’s one,” Eli said, his face darkening and his eyes going cold. “I’m happy here. I’m not ready to move.” He stepped around Alec and headed for his bedroom. Ilsa and Alec watched him go and then looked at each other. She smiled sadly and headed upstairs. When Alec heard her door close, he followed Eli into the room. Alec found him staring at his shelf of photos, but Eli quickly turned to face him when he walked in. They stood looking at each other in silence, and then Alec turned, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of the house.

  Chapter 14

  ALEC blinked a couple of times at Mirabell. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so he blinked some more. She stood in her doorway in a simple, plush, beige, terrycloth bathrobe and matching slippers. His eyes began to water from a strong, acrid odor emanating from her hair, which appeared to be filled with thick, gelatinous hair color. A cigarette hung from her lips.

  “Should you be smoking while coloring your hair?”

  She turned and headed back down her hallway. “Come to rescue me from my fags, have you?”

  Alec entered the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. “I just—”

  “How long?”

  “Huh?” Alec rushed down the long, dark hall in her wake.

  “How long do you need to stay?”

  He frowned, stopping in his tracks and watching her disappear into her kitchen. “Mira, I’m not some struggling, penniless college student. I don’t need to stay with you.”

  “Then what is it you ‘need’?” He didn’t know quite how to answer that. She peered at him around the corner. “Coming?” That shook him from his thoughts, and he joined her in the kitchen. It was cluttered, and his eyes roamed over dishes piled on the table, the counter next to the sink, and on the stove.

  “This is a new look for you,” he said hesitantly.

  “You like?” she asked, spreading her arms and modeling her outfit, “I got it from the Grand Hyatt in New York last night.” She winked. “Didn’t cost a thing.”

  “No, Mira, I meant this….” Alec gestured toward the disorder surrounding them.

  “Oh.” She finished her cigarette and snuffed it out in one of a number of strategically placed ashtrays. “Just got back, love. Haven’t had time to clean the place, I’m afraid.”

  Alec gingerly lifted a plate on a stack to his left and peered beneath. “So it was like this when you left?”

  She looked at him sharply. “New York was a sudden trip. An emergency.”

  “A fashion emergency?”

  She ignored him, looking at the surrounding chaos. “I was only gone two days,” she said, shoving a few items out of the way. “It’s not like vermin have begun to gather.”

  Alec began collecting dishes and clearing the kitchen table just as a bell sounded on the counter near Mirabell. She quickly turned on the faucet, grabbed the spray nozzle, and wet her hair. She turned back to Alec as she worked up a lather in her hair. “Don’t bother with that, babe. I have a boy come in to clean.”

  Alec paused, his hands filled with cups and saucers. “A boy?”

  Mirabell smiled as her hair began to resemble a cotton ball. “Yes. A boy. What of it? He’s a struggling model at the
moment. Needs a few extra quid.”

  Alec grinned and carried the dishes over to her. He put them on the counter and leaned against it, standing next to her as she continued to work the coloring out of her hair. They stood silently for several minutes as Alec tried to find an explanation for why he’d come to Mirabell’s.

  “Mira, I—”

  “Hang on, have to rinse.” She turned the water back on and shed her robe in one swift move. She was topless, but wearing a pair of lacey black panties and black silk stockings. Alec blushed brightly as she leaned over the sink to rinse her hair. “Pass me that, will you?” Mirabell reached out toward Alec, flailing her fingers without lifting her head from the sink.

  Alec looked around, spotted an apparently clean towel on the back of a chair, and handed it to her. Mirabell squeezed the water from her hair and carefully wrapped the towel around it, tucking the end tightly under at the nape of her neck. She lit up another cigarette and turned to face Alec, who quickly leaned over, grabbed her robe from the floor, and handed it to her, while averting his eyes.

  “Aww, are my boobies frightening you, dear?” She took the robe and slipped it on. “Here,” she said, gesturing toward the table, “sit.” They sat. “You want a drink?”

  “No, but you probably do.”

  “Thanks. I’ll have bourbon.”

  Alec grinned, got up, and poured her a bourdon from a bottle he found in the cabinet. “Here you are, my dear.”

  “Thanks.” Mirabell gulped the drink, winced, and looked into Alec’s eyes. “So, what have they done to you now?”

  He shook his head. “What makes you th—”

  “Save it. You’re obviously upset, and since you’re here instead of snuggling and talking with your man about it, I conclude he’s the problem.” Alec didn’t say anything as she took a long drag off her cigarette, her eyes narrowing either from the smoke or in examining his expression. “Out with it,” she commanded.

  “I want to move out.”

  “And?”

  “Eli doesn’t.”

  “So?” They stared: Mirabell at him and Alec at everything else in the room but her. She tapped her cigarette on an ashtray and waited. After several more moments, she leaned forward and asked, “How is it a psychologist with your skill and insight is unable to make his life run more smoothly?”