No Such Thing (The Belonging Series)

by A. M. Arthur

  “Direct enough to assault someone in a public restroom and tape them to a toilet?”

  “Good point.”

  She picked up her cell phone and stared at the display as if waiting for it to give her all the answers she wanted. “You know, even if I gave the police Justin’s name as a possible suspect, they won’t pursue it. They’ll ask him if he did it, Justin will say no, and maybe next time he’ll do something worse.”

  “Worse than scaring the living shit out of Jaime? Worse than beating his girlfriend?”

  “Worse.” Her blue eyes were cold, and she put a hundred pounds of meaning into one word.

  Alessandro sipped his steaming coffee as he watched her, curious now. He knew so little about her beyond the basics. “Shannon, do you have some kind of personal history with the Maddox’s?”

  She opened her mouth, as if to deny it, then paused. Paused long enough for it to be an affirmative. She glanced at the kitchen doorway, then at the ceiling, but they were still alone. “Jaime doesn’t know this, and I can’t imagine it’s relevant at all.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” He hated the idea of hearing a secret before her own brother heard it. He was also fascinated.

  “I grew up never knowing who my father was. There’s no name on my birth certificate. I was ten when Mom got pregnant with Jaime, and his father left when he was two, so it was really always just the three of us. Mom took care of us until she got sick.”

  She paused for so long that Alessandro thought he was expected to say something, only he had no words. So far she hadn’t said anything groundbreaking, so he waited.

  “When Mom realized she wasn’t going to live long enough to get a donor heart, she confessed to a few things, including an affair with a married man when she was nineteen. She had me when she was twenty. The married man was Bernard Maddox.”

  Alessandro’s hand jerked, splashing hot coffee onto his fingers. He put the mug down and wiped his hand on a towel. Bernard Maddox was the patriarch of the Maddox family, the oldest of four siblings, and Justin’s uncle, which made Justin her cousin. Bernard had a couple of his own kids who lived in other states, and he was on his fourth wife.

  “Did Bernard Maddox know your mother was pregnant?” Alessandro asked.

  “Yeah, she told him. Bernard paid her fifty thousand dollars to never name him as the father. He even made her sign a contract.”

  “Goddamn.”

  “Mom invested the money and she never touched it. It’s why I’m not drowning in debt from Jaime’s medical bills.” Shannon sighed. “Look, the only reason I’m telling you this, Alessandro, is perspective. That family is not above extortion and bribery to get what they want, and if for some reason Justin wants to punish Jaime…”

  “No, I get it.” Alessandro more than got it. Everything was forming a very clear picture, and it all circled back to the decision he’d made that night on the road.

  “Jaime’s the only family I have left. I just want him safe.”

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  He was cold. Too damn cold, and Jaime woke with a startled shout. He clutched the layers of blankets atop him, vaguely aware he was sweating in the well-heated room, but he was still freezing. He stared at his familiar bedroom ceiling and took deep, measured breaths, working his way through the panic. Getting his heart rate back down to something a lot less terrifying.

  Three hours. He’d been in that bathroom for more than three hours yesterday, and at some point the fear of being tied up and naked had been replaced by the unbearable cold. It had seeped in through his skin from the cement floor, from the toilet’s porcelain, from the chilly air all around him. He didn’t think he’d ever get warm again.

  His mind told him he was too warm now, but he couldn’t seem to crawl out from under the blankets. Inside, he was still cold.

  He was also alone. He listened for the telltale sounds of someone in the bathroom next door—no running water, no thump of cabinets. Alessandro wasn’t upstairs. Had he gone home? Had he decided that their sex-education arrangement didn’t include rescuing Jaime from public bathrooms and dumped his weak ass?

  No. Jaime untangled himself from the bed sheets, unwilling to consider such a thing. The truth came through in actions and expressions, and Alessandro wouldn’t leave him over this. He was sure of it. He stripped out of his sweaty pajamas and changed into a pair of clean sweats. The bruises on his legs and ribs had darkened overnight into black patches. They were smaller than he expected. Maybe whoever attacked him didn’t have big feet.

  Stupid thing to consider, given the circumstances.

  He crept down the stairs, stopping halfway when the hum of voices chased away any fear he’d had of Alessandro leaving. He and Shannon were in the kitchen. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he didn’t want to interrupt. Their tones sounded serious, even if he couldn’t hear the exact words. Discussing him, he was sure. And any discussion about him should include him, so he descended to the bottom step.

  “Jaime’s the only family I have left,” Shannon said. “I just want him safe.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I know you do. I’ve never seen Jaime as happy as he’s been these last few weeks.”

  “He deserves better.”

  Jaime held his breath, the internal chill increasing.

  “Better than you?” Shannon said. “You care about him. You’re gentle with him. You take care of your family, and you work hard. What’s wrong with you?”

  “For starters, I’m a serial fuck-up.”

  “Because you were an angry kid who got into trouble? Jaime knows about that stuff. Has he ever made you think for a blue second that he cares who you were?”

  Alessandro didn’t answer, and Jaime’s skin crawled. He had given Alessandro that impression, hadn’t he? Sure, Alessandro’s temper scared him. The idea that he’d been arrested, even as a boy, worried him. But the adult Alessandro that he wanted in his life hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t bullied him. He’d always been kind and gentle, and he made Jaime feel seen. Wanted. And he never made Jaime feel broken because of his transplant.

  “We all have pasts, Alè.”

  “Some more colorful than others.”

  Jaime strode into the kitchen without meaning to. He’d lost the ability to stand there and listen in silence. Shannon was seated at the counter, and Alessandro stood opposite her by the coffeepot. They both gave him startled looks.

  “Hey, Bug,” Shannon said. “Want something to eat?”

  He wasn’t particularly hungry, but cooking for him would make her happy. “Sure.”

  She hopped off her stool and began rooting around in the refrigerator. Jaime tilted his head toward the living room. Alessandro put his mug down and followed him.

  As soon as they were alone, Jaime was enveloped in Alessandro’s arms. He held tight to Alessandro’s waist, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Felt the steady beat of another heart near his ear, the rasp of air in his lungs, the rise and fall of his chest. Those simple things helped warm some of the ice inside.

  “How’re you doing?” Alessandro whispered.

  “Okay.”

  They curled up on the couch together, and Alessandro covered them with an afghan. It didn’t matter that his sister was in the next room. Sitting like that helped Jaime start to relax.

  “Have the police called?” he asked.

  “No.” Alessandro exhaled hard but didn’t say anything else. He had tensed, though, and Jaime wanted to ask why. Instead, he let himself doze in Alessandro’s arms until a plate of pancakes appeared in front of him.

  He worked his way through the stack with Alessandro’s help, unable to completely ignore the unidentified thing that kept Alessandro at arm’s length. He’d only caught a small part of his conversation with Shannon. He’d missed something important; he was sure of it.

  “Listen, Bug,” Shannon said after she’d taken his empty plate, “I need to run a few errands. I’ll be back in an hour or two, ok
ay?”

  “Okay.” He was a grown man, and even if Alessandro wasn’t still there, he could have easily spent an hour alone. Even after what happened yesterday.

  Maybe.

  After she left, Jaime wiggled around so he could look Alessandro in the eye. “So now are you going to tell me?”

  Alessandro blinked. “Tell you what?” When Jaime didn’t respond, he sighed. “You want to know what was so important yesterday that I blew you off and let this happen?”

  This time Jaime stared blankly at him for what seemed like ten minutes. “What? No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t blame you for the park, Alè.”

  “You should, because it’s my fault.”

  “I could have studied at home.”

  “I don’t mean that, Jaime.” He studied his lap, his hands, anything but Jaime. “You wouldn’t have been a target at all if it wasn’t for me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I kind of do.”

  Neon danger signs flashed in Jaime’s mind, warning him that he wasn’t going to like the rest of this conversation. Alessandro looked like he was going to be sick, and Jaime’s own stomach twisted.

  “Yesterday, I went to talk to Claire about Justin,” Alessandro said. “About something that happened when we were in high school. She confirmed something for me, and it just…” He trailed off, at a very rare loss for words.

  “Is this something the reason Justin dislikes you so much?”

  “Yup.”

  “Do you want to tell me what it is?”

  Worry and regret danced in Alessandro’s brown eyes. “One night during our senior year, Justin paid me to forget I’d seen him driving on a particular road with someone in his passenger seat. I didn’t know why it was such a big deal, and I didn’t really care back then. I took the money and I got high with it.”

  Jaime had been too sick during that time period to know what else was happening with his former classmates, or why this was such a huge deal. He hated the idea of Alessandro being paid off by Justin for anything, but it explained the animosity. Sort of. “Who was in the car with him?”

  “Brittney Mattson. Brittney got drunk at a party and tried to walk home. Justin picked her up on the side of the road and drove her home. Only he never admitted that, and Brittney never knew how she got home. She blacked out most of that night.”

  He tried to place the familiar name. Jaime vaguely recalled a Brittney Mattson from junior high, but he had no context for her ten years later. If she came into the bakery, it wasn’t on Saturdays, and if he’d passed her in town, he hadn’t recognized her.

  “I didn’t know who Justin’s passenger was at the time,” Alessandro said. He’d paled a little and looked close to tears. Jaime wanted to reach for him, to make it better, but he couldn’t move to do it. “Right after that night, I got read the riot act by Sully about my grades and graduation. All I cared about was not failing and I blocked out everything else around me.”

  “Which was what, exactly?”

  “Brittney found out she was pregnant. She got bullied out of attending graduation. She still lives nearby with her son, and she’s never named the father. I saw them two nights ago. Her son looks just like his father.”

  Disgust and horror sliced through Jaime’s insides as the dots connected all on their own, creating a terrible picture. “Justin?”

  Alessandro nodded. “I think he paid me to keep quiet that night because he took Brittney home and raped her. Claire practically confirmed it.”

  “Jesus.” Jaime sank deeper into the couch cushion, away from Alessandro, needing the space while his whirling brain tried to make sense of all this. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Brittney had felt then or now. “All these years and she’s never asked for a paternity test?”

  “I guess not. According to Claire, Brittney doesn’t remember ever seeing Justin the night of the party, so she has no reason to suspect him.”

  “Except a son who looks like Justin?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t see it.” Alessandro pinched the bridge of his nose. “I saw it because the kid was a stranger to me. And because I knew Justin was with her.”

  “That’s why Justin is so rude to you.” It all made perfect sense. “You came back to town after six years away, and you can put it all together and blow the lid on his big secret.”

  “Yeah.” Alessandro shifted forward, the disgust in his eyes changing to distress. “It’s why Justin’s threatened me, Eunice, the kids…and you, if I didn’t get out of town and keep my mouth shut.”

  Some of Alessandro’s cautious behavior recently made a little more sense now, as did the impression that he’d been hiding something. The intent look he was getting from Alessandro drove something brand new home for him, and Jaime felt cold all over again. “You think Justin is behind yesterday, don’t you?”

  Alessandro shuddered visibly. “Who else would do that? Who else has a reason to hurt you like that?”

  “Cowardly bigots who hate gays?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. I didn’t see who did it, Alè. There’s no proof.”

  “Maybe not, but his threats to me should be enough for the police to question him. And I know Claire can’t alibi him, because we were talking when you were attacked.”

  “If he wasn’t involved, this will just piss him off more.”

  “Or it will get his ass off the street and in a jail cell. Maybe he’ll finally take responsibility for what he’s done to Brittney and Claire. That family is a fucking menace.”

  Jaime couldn’t argue. “So you’re going to confess everything to the police?”

  “I have to.”

  “Couldn’t they charge you for, I don’t know, being an accessory or something?”

  “Maybe.” Alessandro looked sick. “A lot of things could happen next, but I need to keep you and Eunice and Molly and Tony safe. And Justin needs to pay for what he did.”

  “Yes, he does.” Jaime grabbed Alessandro’s hands and held them tight. “No matter what happens, I’m on your side.”

  “Thank you.” Alessandro swept him up into a fierce hug. “You have no idea what it feels like to hear you say that. No idea.”

  Jaime had a pretty good idea, but he didn’t say so. He just hugged Alessandro and prayed that everything would turn out all right in the end—for both of them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alessandro had never been so mentally exhausted in his life. He collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table at eight-thirty Friday night, aware of movement upstairs, and so hungry he was a little light-headed. Eunice was probably putting Molly to bed, which meant she wouldn’t be down for a while. Getting up and fixing himself something to eat took too much effort.

  He folded his hands on top of the table and dropped his head against them. Talking to the police had been incredibly nerve-racking, even with Jaime there for support, and he’d been too wound up to eat or drink. He’d explained it all four times today, and his brain hurt from the effort: once to Jaime, once to Officer Walsh, and twice to the same detective, who looked as excited at the prospect of going after the Maddox family as Alessandro felt.

  But Detective Angela Raines had also set him at ease. She listened, she made notes, she asked questions, and she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. She didn’t seem put off by his and Jaime’s relationship. And even though they had no eyewitnesses to Jaime’s attack, she agreed to bring Justin in for questioning based on Alessandro’s report of threats against Jaime.

  The only thing Detective Raines couldn’t pursue right away was Brittney Mattson. Alessandro’s memories of that night were not proof of rape, and Brittney had never filed charges or requested a paternity test for her son. The detective wanted to question Justin before she spoke with Brittney.

  Justin didn’t see them when he was brought in, or when he left an hour later, smirking his way through the precinct and out to the lobby. The look on his face had made Alessandro’s heart sink
before Detective Raines told them anything.

  “Justin and a group of friends were in Philadelphia yesterday. They didn’t come back until this morning. The alibi checks out. He claims he doesn’t know anything about the hate graffiti or Mr. Winters’s attack.”

  “Do you believe him?” Alessandro asked.

  “He certainly believes it himself.”

  “What did he say about Brittney?”

  She glanced around the office at the various officers going about their business. “He said enough to make me want to speak with Ms. Mattson about the matter. And since this is likely to become part of an open investigation, I can’t share the details of that conversation with you.”

  A fraction of the weight that had been sitting in his chest had lifted a little bit then.

  “Will Alessandro be charged?” Jaime had asked.

  “Not at this time, no,” the detective replied. “There’s a chance that Justin will try to throw him under the bus at some point, perhaps to deflect blame, but I don’t believe that Alessandro acted with any malicious intent six years ago, and he’s trying to make it right now.”

  Jaime didn’t look satisfied with the answer, and Alessandro hadn’t been, either. But he’d played a part in Brittney’s ordeal, and he still wasn’t convinced that Justin knew nothing about Jaime’s attack. It was a start, though. And as much as he’d wanted to stay with Jaime again—the fact that Jaime couldn’t seem to warm up, no matter the layers of clothes and coats, worried him—Alessandro was exhausted.

  He also needed to confess everything to Eunice. She deserved to know what was going on, especially about the threats.

  Footsteps on the stairs startled him into looking up. They were too light to be Eunice, so he wasn’t surprised when Tony walked into the kitchen. He flipped on the light, then gave a little shout when he spotted Alessandro sitting at the table.

  “Hell, man, you scared the crap out of me,” Tony said. His shock quickly shifted into anger. “Not cool. Why are you sitting in the dark like a freak?”