Give Yourself Away

by Barbara Elsborg

  “I’m going to do what Liam should have done.”

  Caleb sank his teeth into his cheeks.

  “My older brother’s name ring a bell?” Paul kicked him in the side. “It fucking should, you little shit.”

  Caleb doubled up wheezing.

  “How did you get out?” Paul asked.

  It took a moment before Caleb could speak. “The door was open. I walked upstairs…found Liam hanging in the lounge. He’d left a note…said he was sorry.”

  Paul kicked him again and Caleb cried out.

  “Don’t talk shit,” Paul barked. “No way he’d kill himself. Try again. The truth or I’ll cut your dick off.”

  Caleb pulled again at the tie around his wrists. “I am telling the truth. The door was open.”

  Paul dropped down and Caleb saw the knife in his hand. A shiny four-inch blade. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His balls shriveled.

  “He never left the door open,” Paul said.

  Caleb licked his dry lips. “I thought he was probably trying to trick me. He’d left it ajar a few times only to slam it in my face, but this time the way was clear to the stairs.” Whatever else he did in the short amount of life he had left, he had to ensure he never mentioned Jasim. This ended with him. The thought brought a measure of peace.

  “What did you do?” Paul caught him by the throat and squeezed.

  “Liam appeared…top of the stairs. Knew it was another trick. I…leapt up…and threw myself…at his legs. He fell…broke his neck. Didn’t mean to kill him.”

  There was no way that Paul would believe he’d strung up a struggling Liam. He probably didn’t believe he’d strung up a dead one.

  “Then what?” Paul relaxed his hold and Caleb sucked air.

  “Made it look as though he’d hung himself. Cleaned everything I’d touched. Then I ran.”

  “You’re lying.” Paul tilted Caleb’s head back with the knife. “How many fucking versions are there? You have a couple more? Someone helped you.”

  Caleb shook. With fear or cold, or both. “No. I’m not lying. Don’t know if Liam made a mistake with the door or not, but I did knock him down the stairs.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police? Why make it look as though he’d killed himself?”

  Did he believe me? “I didn’t see the point in going to the police. Liam was dead. There was no one to arrest.” Except you, you fucking monster. “I didn’t want anyone to know what happened. Didn’t want to be dissected and talked about. I just wanted to disappear. Begin again. How did you find me?”

  “You could have left him at the bottom of the stairs.”

  Caleb stared straight at him. “I wanted to hurt him for what he’d done to me. Dying wasn’t enough. You’re Irish Catholic. Killing yourself is a mortal sin.” As if doing what he did to me wasn’t.

  “God fucking well knows Liam didn’t hang himself.”

  “But his family wouldn’t.”

  The tip of the knife pierced the soft skin under Caleb’s chin and blood trickled down his neck.

  “You piece of shit. You really are a conniving bastard. You think wearing colored contacts could keep you safe? You didn’t kill him. Who did?”

  “Told you the truth.” Caleb couldn’t tilt his head back any farther.

  “Then where’s the money?”

  “What money?”

  “The money that disappeared out of Liam’s account the day before he was killed.”

  “I don’t know.” Please don’t let him have access to my accounts. “Do I look like I have money? I drive a clapped-out car. I live from day to day.”

  “Someone took it. Someone killed him and that someone wasn’t you. But you know who did it and you’re going to tell me.”

  “Is that what this has been about? Money? You killed Simon, tried to kill Mike. Why didn’t you just ask me before now? How did you know where I was?” Caleb told himself to slow down with the questions. The longer he was alive, the better his chance of survival. He held on to the slim hope Jamie would have called March, that he’d be looking for him, that he’d get here in time, because Caleb knew this was something he couldn’t escape from on his own.

  “Liam wouldn’t let me touch you.” Paul laughed. “He paid me to film, let me watch but never fuck you. You were his. Now you’re not.”

  Caleb shuddered. Please don’t fuck me. Let me die with March being the last one to touch me like that.

  “Why did you send those roses?”

  Paul chuckled. “Messing with your head. I wanted you to think Liam was still alive, still after you.”

  “You killed one guy and stabbed another just to mess with my head?”

  “I was better at it than Liam. You’re afraid of your own fucking shadow.”

  Caleb pressed his lips together.

  “You are, aren’t you? Admit it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Simon sold you out. You didn’t know that. I was asking in various places online if anyone had seen you. I posted pictures I’d taken that I’d kept for myself. Simon contacted me. He wasn’t pleased to find he was dating a porn star.”

  Oh shit. “He wasn’t.”

  Paul shrugged and trailed the knife down Caleb’s chest. “All those photographs and videos online, what did you expect him to think? He told me he’d arrange for you to meet me; then he changed his mind. Couldn’t have that.”

  “Was it you who left that message on his phone?”

  “Yeah and told a girl to tell his sister you’d been cheating on him. His face…” Paul giggled and sounded just like Liam.

  The knife reached his stomach and Caleb’s breathing became labored. “If you knew where I was, why didn’t you just talk to me then?”

  “Because I got fucking arrested for assault.” He spat out the words. “My brief advised me to plead guilty and I was still put away. I had a few years to plan what I was going to do. I knew you had to have the money. Who else could it be?”

  “Bank manager, cashier, some guy Liam spoke to in a bar, some guy who saw me online and traced Liam. There are lots of possibilities. It wasn’t me who took it. Fuck, I’d been in that room for twelve years. I didn’t even know how to open a bank account, let alone switch money around, and you said it happened before Liam died. I was still in the room.”

  The guy wasn’t listening. Caleb could see it in his face.

  “You know the first thing I did when I got out?” Paul asked. “Went looking for you. It took me a long while. I knew you were a carpenter, but I found you at that party by pure luck. New name. Same face. Same body. God’s gift to me.”

  You sick fuck.

  “Now, who killed Liam and where’s the money?”

  “I killed Liam. You can have all the money I’ve earned and saved. Take me to the bank and I’ll draw it out and give it you.”

  Paul shook his head. “Someone else was involved. This guy you’ve been seeing? March?”

  “I’ve only just met him. He has nothing to do with this.” Oh God. He’s going to kill me and go after March.

  “Who was the guy Liam took you out of the room to meet? March?”

  Caleb frantically tried to think of what to say, a way to divert attention from March.

  Paul pressed the knife through his jeans and into his belly and Caleb sucked in a breath.

  “I know Liam took you to someone. Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. I was drugged. I woke with someone different fucking me, then woke again back in the room with Liam fucking me.”

  “Let’s see if you’re still saying that in a couple of minutes.”

  He put another cable tie around Caleb’s ankles and hauled him up the stairs onto the deck, banging Caleb’s back on each step.

  Kev handled the boat while March scoured the sea. The problem was they had no idea which direction to take.
March had told Kev to go north but it was a guess. Brian called over the radio and March held his breath, praying they weren’t being ordered to a rescue.

  “I’ve asked for help in locating the boat,” Brian said. “Hopefully he won’t be logged in on that frequency.”

  “There’s nothing out here.” March wondered if he’d made the wrong choice.

  “I’ll keep you informed. The police are aware. Coastguard coordinating. Out.”

  Kev turned and yelled, “Starboard. One o’clock. Something?”

  March stood up and saw a boat. “Try it.”

  Kev changed course and they flew across the water.

  “Kev, this guy is dangerous. If it is the Sparky, we need to call it in, but I want you to get up close. I have to get on that boat. Hail him. If he doesn’t answer, get right up to his side and tell him we’re looking for a wind surfer blown out to sea. Once I’m on board, back off. I don’t want you in danger.”

  “Shit, March. Just how dangerous is he?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s killed one guy, tried to kill another.”

  March listened to Kev hail the boat on the VHF, but there was no response. As they drew closer, March saw the name Sparky on the side and his heart jumped into his throat.

  “It’s him,” March said. “Shout out about the wind surfer as we approach.”

  Fitzpatrick stood on the deck, watching them. There was no sign of Caleb but they couldn’t see below the guy’s knees. Fitzpatrick turned his back and bent. When he heaved something overboard on the far side of the boat, March just knew.

  “Round to the far side,” he shouted to Kev.

  March pulled off his helmet and then his life jacket.

  “What are you doing?” Kev kept glancing back at him.

  The cruiser started up and headed straight for them. If the D class hadn’t had greater maneuverability, Fitzgerald would have mown them down.

  March stared at the water, hoping to see Caleb, but there was nothing. He kept his gaze on the spot he thought he’d gone overboard, and when Kev was close enough he yelled “Stop here” and threw himself into the frigid water.

  March knew he had only moments. March was kitted out for cold water, Caleb wasn’t. He had no idea if Caleb was conscious or not. In bigger seas, he’d have likely had no chance, but the water was calm, the visibility good. He caught a glimpse in the periphery of his vision, powered that way and saw Caleb with his hands behind his back, his legs together, his body undulating as he tried to get to the surface. March wrapped his arms around him and pulled him up.

  Their heads broke the surface together and they gasped. March swiveled round, saw the cruiser heading straight for them and groaned. Kev was too far away to get to them.

  “Caleb, hold your breath,” March snapped and pulled him under.

  March swam down, dragging a distressingly limp Caleb with him, and when the shadow of the boat passed overhead, he kicked up again. Kev was closer when they surfaced and he swung the boat next to them.

  “This guy is fucking crazy,” Kev shouted. “He’s coming back again.”

  March tipped Caleb into the boat and realized he wasn’t going to have time to get in himself. He clung on to the rope at the side. “Go,” he yelled.

  Kev took them away from Sparky and round, to head back to shore.

  The water was pouring into March’s face and he turned his head to look behind them. Fitzpatrick was still coming after them. There was no way he could catch them. Maybe he realized that because the boat changed direction and finally Kev stopped and heaved March on board.

  “I’ve called it all in,” Kev said. “Help’s coming.”

  “Get us to shore.” March knelt at Caleb’s side, terrified he’d been too late, and then Caleb opened his eyes and coughed.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” March said.

  Caleb’s attempt at a smile reassured him. March cut him free and wrapped an emergency blanket around him. Then he wrapped himself around him. The knowledge that he’d nearly lost him again blocked his throat.

  March pressed his mouth to Caleb’s ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept saying the same thing over and over.

  Caleb was white with cold and probably shock, but his breathing was steady.

  “Was it him behind everything?” March asked.

  Caleb nodded.

  “They’ll catch him and it will all be over,” March said.

  As they reached the shore, the sound of a helicopter filled the air. Fitzpatrick had nowhere to run, but March wished Fitzpatrick were dead. As soon as the guy started to talk, Caleb would have to talk too. He’d have to go over everything that had happened from the day Liam took them. When March let Caleb go in order to help Dan, he stared in horror at the blood in the bottom of the boat.

  “Fuck it, Caleb.” He pulled open the emergency blanket to see red all over Caleb’s chest and stomach, slashes in his shirt at the bottom of his ribs.

  “Love you,” Caleb said and his eyes closed as he slumped.

  Caleb slipped out of a dream about drowning and gasped. A hand clasped his and he opened his eyes to see March staring down at him.

  “You’re in the hospital,” March said. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “My dick still there?” Caleb slipped his other hand down to his groin and sighed.

  “They stitched you up. The cuts weren’t deep. You’re just being a lazy arse.”

  Caleb managed a brief smile. “You saved me again.”

  “I always will.”

  “Just as well since I seem to always need to be saved. By you at school, by Jasim, by you again. I should be saving myself. I nearly got you killed. I shouldn’t have run. He’d have come after you and—”

  “Hey, no more of that. How were you supposed to save yourself when you were a little kid? You’ve always done the best you could, except you shouldn’t have run from me, you’re right about that. Never do it again. And as for me saving you, I think you have that the wrong way around. You made me see that I could be myself, that I should be proud of who I am. You gave me a reason for living again; you freed me from my guilt and allowed me to believe in a future. You’re my savior. Simple as that.”

  Caleb gulped. “Don’t let go of me.”

  “Never.” March’s grip tightened. “The good news is they have Derry Fitzpatrick in custody. The bad news is the police want to talk to you.”

  Oh God, what had Fitzpatrick told them? What had March told them? Caleb knew his world was going to unravel. He couldn’t see any way that it wouldn’t. The medical staff had seen his back. He didn’t want March to lie for him. Except over one thing.

  “I told them the bare minimum,” March said. “I met you when I last rescued you. You told me a crazy guy had stalked you four years ago, then picked up again recently. You had no idea who he was, no idea he’d gone out with your friend to get closer to you.”

  “Have to tell the truth.” Caleb’s voice was a whisper.

  He gave a longing look at the glass of water next to him and March helped him take a drink.

  “You think Fitzpatrick will tell the truth?” March asked. “Would he want to be implicated in what happened to you for all those years? It besmirches his brother’s name. If he has family, he might well prefer to keep it quiet.”

  Caleb felt a pang of hope and then squashed it. “He tried to kill me. He pushed me overboard with cable ties on my wrists and ankles. He’s going to prison for that. Why wouldn’t he tell the police the rest? He’ll try and blame me for Liam’s death, say I was Liam’s lover, that I stole his money.” He released a heavy breath.

  “Don’t mention Jasim. Please do that for me. There’s no need to drag him into this. I told Liam’s brother that Liam had let me get farther from the room than he usually did when he played his mind games. I threw myself at Liam, knocked
him down the stairs. He broke his neck. I strung him up because he was Catholic and suicide is a mortal sin. I wanted to hurt him the only way I had left. Then I cleaned everywhere and ran.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “No. He thought someone else was involved. He started to cut me to make me tell him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Then he pushed me overboard.”

  “How are you going to explain the money in your account?”

  “I’ll…I’ll say I took it from the house.” But Caleb could see holes opening up. Timings would be wrong. His capacity to have done certain things would be challenged. “I won’t give Jasim up.” The effort of thinking had exhausted him. “Promise. Swear. Never say his name again. If he hadn’t helped me, I’d be dead.”

  “I won’t betray him. There’s no reason for you to know who he was. The whole point was anonymity. Nothing exists that will link him to this, apart from you.”

  “You too.” Caleb bit his lip and March reached to stop him, brushing his lips with his finger. “Warn him,” Caleb said. “You know how to get in touch with him. Because if the police investigate and obtain phone records and information from the detective agency you used, they’ll find him.”

  Anxiety welled in Caleb’s chest until he struggled to breathe.

  March wrapped his arms around him and held him tight as he slipped under again.

  March left Caleb sleeping. He went out into the corridor, took out his phone and twisted it in his fingers. He wished he had the chance and moral strength to kill Derry Fitzpatrick, but he didn’t. Not in cold blood. If March hadn’t had to dive into the sea to get Caleb, maybe he could have, but now the guy was in police custody and untouchable. He scrolled down to Jasim’s number and called him.

  “Not a wise move,” Jasim said.

  “Don’t hang up.” March went through what happened.

  “Fuck,” Jasim muttered.

  “No one knows your name. Caleb didn’t give it up, even when he was being tortured. I won’t give it up because I promised Caleb I wouldn’t, but…” March didn’t need to complete the sentence; they both knew what was at stake.

  “Thank you for telling me. Which detective agency did you use?”