The Russos 12

by D. J. Manly

  Mac managed to say goodbye. He had to hang up.

  She didn't understand. It was her baby she was protecting now. But he understood. He knew Drake, his strengths and his weaknesses, and he knew how much Johnny loved him. "Johnny," he looked upwards, "Johnny, please. If there is such a thing as an angel or a spirit, you got to do something here. This will kill Drake. If Angelo turns his back...please, Johnny, please." Tears ran down Mac's face. He wiped them away, left the room and went in search of Angelo.

  * * * * * *

  "You know," Tony said, draining his coffee cup, "that was a damn good breakfast."

  "It was." Drake said. "What time is it getting to be?"

  "It's after nine." Tony yawned. "That bed was hard as rock, and you snore."

  "Sorry." He grinned.

  "You know," Tony said, "when the tour is over, I'm going to try to talk Angelo into going away with me somewhere. God, I'd love for us to be together alone on some deserted island."

  "I could arrange that."

  Tony grinned. "Really?"

  "Sure."

  "Okay, on one condition."

  "What's that?"

  "You consider giving Nolan a chance."

  "How do you know I even like Nolan?"

  "He's cute."

  "Yeah, he is."

  "Okay. He's got a nice body. He's intelligent, talented. In bed, I don't know, but aren't you curious?"

  "A little, maybe. I'm forever curious, doesn't mean anything."

  "Well, be more curious."

  Drake laughed. "You're a nut. Let's go and find a cab somewhere. Maybe I can get a few extra hours of sleep."

  * * * * * *

  The minute Tony walked into the suite, Mac appeared in the entrance. He put a finger to his lips, shook his head, and steered him and Drake off into the bedroom.

  "You look like crap," Drake said. "You haven't been to bed yet?"

  "No. I've been babysitting your offspring. Close the door."

  Drake looked confused as he closed the door behind him.

  Tony paled. "Angelo? Angelo is here?"

  "Where in fuck have you been?" Mac demanded in a hiss.

  "We were at the cemetery, and---" Drake began.

  "Don't bullshit me, Russo. I know you too well. He knows. Angelo knows. He knows that you and Drake have been sleeping together."

  "Jesus Christ," Tony whispered. "Oh no, oh God, no. This isn't happening."

  Drake didn't say a word.

  "He sat up all night drinking. He passed out, thank God, an hour ago. I tried to call you. Why in hell didn't you have your fucking cell phones on? I even went to the cemetery looking for you."

  Drake touched Mac's arm. "Let me handle it."

  "You?" Tony looked at him. "But Drake, it's---"

  "Take him out of here, Mac," Drake looked at his best friend. "And don't bring Tony back here until I tell you to."

  Mac nodded. "Come on," he said to Tony. "Let's go."

  "No, Drake," Tony turned to him, "I can't let you take all the responsibility for this. I'm equally to blame, maybe even more."

  "Tony, please," Drake said. "I couldn't save my own love, let me try and save yours. If Angelo is going to hate anyone, let it be me. Mac, get him out of here."

  Mac looked at his best friend. "You know, Drake, I'm getting just a little tired of cleaning up after you Russos." He grabbed Tony by the jacket sleeve and compelled him out of the hotel.

  Drake lowered his head and sighed. It was true.

  Mac had always been there to pick up the pieces. He doubted, however, if there was much he could do in this case. He closed his eyes and leaned against the door. "Johnny," he said, "if you're there somewhere looking down at me, help me. I feel so pathetic right now, weak. I need the right words. If it was a song, it would be all right. I'd find the lyrics, but..." He swallowed. "It's not a song." He took a breath and walked out of the bedroom. The living room was empty except for the figure of a man huddled on the sofa. He walked over and looked down at his son.

  * * * * * *

  Tony heard Mac tell the limo driver to take them to The Overview, which was the closest five-diamond hotel. He called information for the number, then dialled the hotel. "Yes, it's Mac Hayes. Do you have a two-bedroom suite available now? Okay. I'll take the five-bedroom one. Have a full breakfast brought up upon my arrival. Make out an invoice to Drake Russo. He's paying."

  Tony laid his forehead on the cool window and watched the traffic whirl by them. He was feeling nauseous. An hour ago, everything seemed to make sense in his head. What ever it was between Drake and himself was over. He'd felt it in the hotel room and so had Drake. Suddenly having Drake's cock in his mouth had felt wrong, and so unnecessary. And just when he felt like he had some perspective, that he could let Drake go, Angelo had turned up. But how had he found out? Who had told him? What...he just jumped to that conclusion because they were out together all night?

  Tony said nothing until he was alone with Mac in that hotel suite. Suddenly everything bubbled to the surface. "I'm going to lose him. I'm going to lose Angelo, and I'm telling you, Mac, I can't live without him."

  "Should have thought about that before."

  "Mac? Where is your compassion?"

  "I checked it back at that suite. It's back there with Angelo." Mac pointed at him. "What about Angelo? Isn't he the one I should be feeling sorry for right now? God, you remind me so much of your father sometimes. I remember the cocaine years. He'd do the stupidest things to Drake, do anything to evoke his jealousy, get his attention, and he'd hurt him so bad sometimes. And then he'd end up exactly like you are now, whining, begging for compassion. He'd blame it on the drugs, or on the fact that he loved Drake so much. And I'd spend my time comforting Johnny, when it was Drake who was dealt the injury."

  Tony sunk down on the side of the bed. "You're right. I was a coward. I used Drake to help me cope with my father's death. I felt as if I had to take care of him...and I think sometimes I didn't know where my father ended, and I began."

  "And the same was true for Drake. You brought Johnny back to him. He could close his eyes and pretend. None of it was real."

  "Except for Angelo. He won't understand it the way you do."

  "No. Because he's in love, and because the person he's closest to in the world---his father---betrayed him. That's all he sees. That's all he can see. Did you really think that he'd never find out?"

  "How?" Tony's eyes pleaded. "Did you...?"

  "No. Never. I think it was Nolan."

  "That bastard!"

  "It's not his fault. He was drunk. And you provoked him tonight deliberately, remember?"

  Tony nodded. "It's ironic. This morning I asked Drake to give Nolan a chance."

  "Then it is really over?" Mac met his gaze.

  "Yes. I don't want to analyse it anymore, Mac."

  There was a knock on the door. Mac went to answer it. A waiter brought in a tray with his breakfast. Mac thanked him, and the waiter left.

  Tony lie back on the bed, his head pounding. He was trying to imagine his life without Angelo but all his mind conjured up was emptiness.

  * * * * * *

  Drake reached down and brushed some of his son's hair back off his forehead. He had an image suddenly of him as a small boy. His boy. There was no excuse for what he had done. He had no intention of asking for forgiveness.

  His hand trembled as he touched Angelo's shoulder. His son had grown into a beautiful, loving, talented man. He was everything Drake could have hoped for, and more. He had to give Janet most of the credit for that. They'd gone through their rough patches, but there had always been the love. They'd never lost that. He knew how hard it was for Angelo to be his son. Somehow he'd crawled out from behind his shadow, become his own man, and made his own way. It was what he'd wanted for him in the beginning, and then had felt just the slightest bit of angst when he finally realised that Angelo didn't need him anymore.

  "When you were a boy, I'd fix your cuts and scrapes. I taught you
how to throw a baseball, me and Johnny, in the back yard at Grandma's. I told you about sex and drugs. I tried so hard..." The tears fell now. "Oh God, my little angel...I failed. I failed." He turned around, swallowed. He walked to the window and looked out onto the parking lot below. If Angelo didn't forgive him, he knew he'd curl up and die eventually. He'd beg if he had to.

  Drake wasn't aware of how much time went by.

  He finally took a chair near the sofa where his son was sleeping, and waited.

  Pepi walked into the living room and paused when he saw his older brother. Drake stood up, and in a low voice, he said, "I think I've lost my son."

  Drake looked horrible. His eyes were red and swollen. "He knows," he said.

  "That's why he was drinking so much last night.

  He hasn't woken up?"

  "Not yet. And he's not going to be in the best shape when he does."

  "You should save this for later," Pepi advised.

  "Stay with me." Drake reached out, and clutched Pepi's arm.

  Pepi realised how much closer they'd grown since Johnny died, the only positive thing that had come out of the entire mess. "Of course." He hugged his brother tight. "Angelo will forgive you."

  "No," Drake said.

  "Yes, he will, but it will take time. I know him."

  "He loves you so much, Pepi. You were always close."

  "He saved me."

  Drake blinked. "How?"

  "He helped me feel connected to you, just like Tony helped you feel Johnny again. Let me talk to him."

  Drake gulped. "You...you would do that for me?"

  Pepi smiled, wiping his brother's face. "I'd do anything for you, Drake. Just be my brother, that's all I ask."

  Drake hugged him tight. The emotion was too much now. He left the room.

  Angelo moaned when he opened his eyes. He blinked. His uncle stood there with a glass of something thick and nasty looking. "Here, drink this. It will make you feel better."

  Angelo pushed it away and sat up, placing his head in his hands.

  "Angelo, drink it," Pepi insisted. "Don't you remember that time I got you drunk?"

  "Um. I was a kid."

  "Yep. And we drank this shit after, and you said it was a miracle."

  "Oh fuck, give me that shit!" He grabbed the glass and downed it. "Oh my God, it tastes worse than I remembered."

  "You blocked it from your memory."

  Angelo wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

  "Fuck. Remind me not to do this anymore."

  "That's what you said the last time. Why don't you come with me? You need a shower. I'll order coffee."

  There was silence.

  "Angel?"

  "Angel? You haven't called me that since I was...six."

  "Yeah, and as I recall, you were no angel."

  "Where are they?"

  "Not here. Don't worry about that now. I want to talk to you."

  "About what?"

  "Life with the Russos."

  "No, thanks. I'm changing my name back to Smith."

  "It won't make you any less a Russo."

  Angelo rubbed his temples.

  "Come on, big guy," Pepi said, pulling him up off the sofa, "time to wake up."

  Tony was deep in thought when the door to the hotel suite opened and Drake walked in. When Tony saw him, he sprang up off the sofa. "Where's Angelo? Did you talk to him? What did he say? Does he want to see me?"

  "Slow down," Drake said. "I need a drink. Where's Mac?"

  "He's lying down. He didn't get any sleep last night."

  Drake nodded. He walked over to the mini bar and took out one of those small bottles of whiskey. He clicked off the cap and tipped it back to his lips.

  "Drake," Tony grabbed his arm, pulling the bottle away from him. "Tell me what happened?"

  "Nothing. He was still out. Pepi told me to go. He said he'd talk to him."

  "Pepi? Why Pepi?"

  Drake sighed. "Pepi and Angelo have always been close. And with the shape Angelo is in right now, probably he'd be in no mood to see me...or you."

  "You ran," Tony accused. "You don't want to talk to him, do you?"

  "Yes, I do," Drake said. "I would have but...anyway, he needs to sober up and..."

  "I'm going to lose him."

  "Tony, stop. Look at what your father and I went through. True love has a way of..."

  "I shouldn't have listened to you, Drake. I should have stayed, talked to him."

  "Don't worry. You'll get your chance, and unfortunately, so will I. We both have to look him in the eye, sooner or later." He took a seat. "I can wait."

  Angelo took the towel his uncle handed him and tried rubbing his hair with it. Even that hurt. Pepi had brought him some fresh clothes from his suitcase. He threw the towel aside and pulled on some underwear and a pair of jeans.

  "What's wrong with me, Uncle Pepi?" He asked, taking the steaming cup of coffee out of his hands.

  "Nothing. You're a great guy, handsome, smart. Why would you think this is your fault?"

  "I thought I knew how to make Tony happy."

  "You do. You did make him happy. It's not about that. It's never been about that."

  "Then you know something I don't."

  "Yes, I do, in fact." He grinned. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

  Angelo shook his head.

  His uncle stood leaning against the doorframe.

  "I'm going to tell you something, and don't interrupt me until I'm all finished, okay?"

  Angelo nodded.

  "I know you're in pain right now. I know you're angry and you feel betrayed. That's perfectly natural. You have a right to those feelings."

  Angelo went to say something, but Pepi put up his hand. "Wait. I'm not finished."

  Angelo sighed. He sank down onto the side of the bed.

  "I wouldn't blame you if you went right up to your father and socked him in the mouth. He wouldn't blame you for that either. In fact, he'd probably welcome it right about now. What you need to know is, what he did was wrong in every way, I'm not condoning it, but you have to realise, none of it was about you."

  Angelo looked up at his uncle.

  "This is all about being a member of this crazy family. This is all about Mama and how she hid Drake's paternity for all those years. Drake and Johnny were never meant to be brothers. Somehow they were always close enough to touch but kept apart, tortured by something they felt deep down was forbidden. We have all been hurt by that; you, me, your mother...Tony, but most of all, Johnny and Drake. And then just when a miracle happened...a miracle which allowed these two tormented lovers to come together without guilt, to share a love they were always meant to share, fate decided to take Johnny away from Drake forever. And your father had a hand in that. Everyone knows it was an accident, but he'll never forget that it was his gun which shot my brother." Pepi lowered his head.

  "That doesn't have anything to do with Drake and Tony fucking." The bitterness in his voice came through loud and clear.

  "Oh, but it does," Pepi came over to him and sat beside him. "It has everything to do with it. Tony is not unlike Drake. All his life he thought he was someone else, and just when he found his place in life, everything was ripped away again. These two men," Pepi said, taking Angelo's shoulders, "these two men that we both love so much were in such pain, were so lost when Johnny died, the only thing they could cling to, was each other. Don't you see, for the time they were together, the pain eased. They could pretend. Angelo, Tony never made love to your father, he made love to him on behalf of Johnny, and for Drake, Tony was Johnny."

  Pepi pulled Angelo close to him. "This family has been so close to being ripped apart, Angel, and still somehow we've hung onto each other. Finally, Drake and I have found each other, become brothers. Tony has found you, the love of his life. If you turn away from Tony and your father, you'll kill them. Take time to forgive, but forgive. Please." Pepi searched Angelo's face. "It's a lot to ask, I know, but you've always been the one in this fam
ily with the courage and the strength. I think Drake and Tony will survive Johnny's death, but they won't survive you walking away. I know that in my soul."

  Drake had fallen asleep in the chair. Mac ordered room service about seven that evening and tried to encourage Tony to eat. He paced.

  "Fine, more for me," Mac said. "What about him?"

  He pointed to Drake. "Back on a liquid diet, I see."

  "Why doesn't Pepi call?"

  "Maybe he thinks you should suffer."

  "Thanks, Mac."

  Drake opened his eyes.

  "Hey, Romeo, you hungry?" Mac asked.

  Drake made a face. "Heard from Angelo?"

  "No. Janet is pissed, however. She's called me three times already. She's out for your blood."

  "Won't be the first time."

  Mac grinned.

  "I'm going to call the hotel," Tony announced.

  "No. Don't," Drake said, stretching. "Wait."

  An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Both Drake and Tony froze. Mac got up and answered it. It was Pepi.

  Tony looked around him. "Angelo. Where is he?"

  "On his way back to L.A.," Pepi said, walking in and closing the door. He looked at his older brother.

  "What did he say?" Drake asked. "Is he making little voodoo dolls of me and sticking pins in it."

  "He's hurt."

  Drake nodded.

  "He didn't want to see me?" Tony asked.

  "No. He's not ready. Give him time. Let's go back to the hotel, okay? I spoke to Nolan. He's sober and feels really bad about..."

  "I'll kick his ass," Tony muttered.

  "No." Pepi pointed at him. "You won't blame him for what you did."

  Tony looked away.

  "Thank you," Drake said, placing a hand on Pepi's arm.

  "Don't thank me yet," Pepi said.

  A few hours later, they were back at the hotel.

  Tomorrow morning, they would be leaving for the next stop on the tour.