by Andrew Grey
“Red usually goes with me if he can, but this one is when he’s on duty. It’s only a few days in New York.”
“Yeah. But I hate this photographer. He keeps looking….” Red turned beet red, and Chris doubted it was from embarrassment.
“You know you’re the only one I care about.” Terry’s voice was so gentle, and the way he turned to Red, it was clear that photographers—and, well, anyone else for that matter—didn’t stand a chance at Terry’s heart.
“You love him?” Pavle asked Terry.
Red was rough and had had a hard life, or at least his face read that way. A few scars and the beard gave him a hard look, but as soon as he turned to Terry, all that disappeared when he smiled. Red’s expression lit up, and when Terry nodded and took Red’s hand, Chris felt as though he were looking into a private moment.
Pavle must have felt the same. He turned away and cleared his throat. “I help with dinner.” He went into the kitchen.
“Is he really okay?” Terry asked.
“I think so. He gets a little overwhelmed at times, and I think he’s finding the concept that being gay isn’t bad a little world-rocking.”
“Go see to him. Red and I will be fine.” Terry picked up his glass of wine and took a sip. “If it’s okay, he and I can go wander out in the yard. It’s so beautiful this time of year.”
“Even more so. Pavle loves flowers.” Chris led them through the house, past where Pavle was making a salad in the kitchen. He stiffened as they walked by but didn’t look up. Red and Terry went outside, and Chris returned to the kitchen.
“You need to explain what’s going on,” Chris said as gently as he could. “I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”
Pavle looked up from chopping lettuce into small pulverized bits, and sniffed. “I do not understand. Everything is different here. I not know if good or bad.”
“Everything isn’t good or bad. Sometimes things are just different.” God, Chris hoped he was helping, but he wasn’t making a huge amount of sense, even to himself. “Just tell me what you’re trying to wrestle with.”
“Them.” Pavle pointed out the back, and Chris turned, looking through the other room and out into the garden as Red gently cupped Terry’s cheeks and kissed him. “They… not shame.”
Chris paused a second as his brain nearly slipped a cog as a connection he’d never considered slipped into place. He and Pavle most definitely needed to have a very in-depth talk. “No. They are happy.” He gently took the knife and set it aside, carefully taking Pavle’s hand.
“Is there anything Red and I can do?” Terry asked.
Chris jumped a little. He hadn’t heard them come back in, he was so intent on what he hoped Pavle was going to tell him. Abandoning his chance to speak with Pavle alone, he sighed and realized this mess was his own fault. He should have waited and made sure Pavle was ready to meet people before he pressed it on him. “It’s almost ready. But maybe Red would like to grill the steaks.”
“Sure.” Red took the plate and returned to the backyard.
“I go sit too?” Pavle asked.
“Sure.”
Pavle hurried outside as well, and Chris hoped it was to help Red, but Pavle sat on the opposite side of the garden, in the sun, face to the sky, lips moving as though he were talking to someone.
“He’s a strange one,” Terry said from next to him. There was no heat in it, just an observation. “I suppose he has a right to be. It’s hard for me to understand what he’s been through.”
“For any of us.” Chris brought some of the food to the table. “Pavle doesn’t like to talk about it. He’s answered FBI questions, and those stories were enough to have me seeing red.” He recalled that day and his ripping the chair apart. “He hasn’t talked about what happened since. I wonder if he’s trying to put it behind him, and I can’t blame him. I know I sure as hell would.” But there were so many other things that Chris wanted to know about him.
“You really care for him,” Terry said. “It’s there whenever you talk about him. Hell, I mentioned that he seemed strange and you looked ready to bite my head off, your eyes blazing for a second.” He took a step back so he could see him better. “I didn’t mean anything by the comment.”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel for him.” Chris squared his shoulders and stood a little taller. “I’m supposed to protect him and make sure he’s okay to make his court appearances. I have to….”
“Oh, bullshit….” Terry cut right through the start of Chris’s dutiful monologue. “You like him, and you can say what you will, but the heart wants what the heart wants…. Denying it only makes it harder. If you like him, admit it and move forward. Because Lord knows, Pavle deserves someone who truly cares about him.”
“But it’s a minefield.” If he allowed his emotions to go down that road, Chris was only setting himself up to be hurt. He was well aware that the end game was for Pavle to eventually go home. And there were ethical issues as well. He was supposed to be protecting Pavle, not falling for him. That was how these cases ended… at least as far as he knew. What Pavle wanted was what was important, not Chris.
“Maybe. Even if it is, doesn’t Pavle still deserve whatever happiness comes his way? And for him to choose what he wants?”
Terry’s logic was unassailable and exactly how Chris felt. Why else would the thought of Pavle returning home eventually make his stomach clench? But it shouldn’t at all. Pavle was a work assignment. He was someone who had been taken advantage of, and God in heaven, Chris had let him work his way into his heart without even trying. He was completely screwed, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“He does.” And his own feelings and petty worries be damned.
“The steaks are about done.” Red brought in the plate from the raw meat, and Chris placed it in the sink and got a fresh one for him. “Is he all right? He just sits out there.” Red motioned toward the back.
“He spent a long time not able to see the sun.” Chris’s mind went back to that dank room that smelled of rot and mold. “I think he needs it. Just like I think he needs pretty things. He planted most of the flowers out there, and he’d plant more if I had room for them.” It tickled Chris’s green-thumbed heart that Pavle loved plants so much.
Red nodded. “As long as he’s okay.” He returned outside, and when he came back in, Pavle followed and they all took places at the table.
Pavle ate with his usual quickness, but unlike other times, he barely spoke, though Chris noticed him watching quite a bit.
“What was your home like, before you came here?” Terry asked.
“Small.” Pavle made a motion with his fingers. “Town small, and I know all.” He set down his fork. “Mama and Papa grow things.”
“They were farmers?” Terry asked.
Pavle nodded. “Small. We have food, but no else. Mama….” He hummed and mimed sewing. “They dead,” he added.
“I’m sorry,” Terry said, and Pavle shrugged.
“I miss them, when dark and I go to sleep, but they far away now.” He picked up his fork and returned to eating as though he hadn’t just said one of the saddest things Chris had ever heard. Chris supposed the loss of his mom and dad paled in comparison to years of captivity and threats. Pavle continued eating, and Chris had no idea what else to say. “I here now. Things be different? Yes?”
“Yes. I will try to make sure things are different now,” Chris promised him. It was the best he could do.
“Of course they will be,” Terry said with a smile. “You’re here now. You can try to build your own life.”
Chris wished it were that easy. If Pavle decided to stay—and with so many things foreign to him, that was probably a big if—there were many hoops that he’d have to go through. That was probably another conversation he and Marie needed to have with him. There was going to come a time, probably quite soon, when he was going to have to decide what he wanted. Obstacles—right now Chris saw only obstacles, and he needed to try to
change his outlook somehow.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Chris pulled it out and excused himself, answering Marie’s call.
“Is Pavle all right?” she asked barely after he’d said hello.
“Yes. Why? It’s been quiet here.” Other than the feeling earlier that he was being watched, but that could have been caused by anyone, and he’d not seen anything unusual. “What’s happened?”
“Pavle’s first safe house, the one he didn’t feel comfortable in because it was all men, they received a visit from two men in police uniforms saying they were there to inspect the place and review the cases of everyone there. The caretaker called me, and I called Carlisle Police because they said they were with them. No one was sent out, and no one ever would be… not like that. We manage the homes, and the police work through us. Marvin is huge and he didn’t let them in. When he told them more officers were on the way, they took off, but only when the sirens sounded.”
“Jesus….” Chris groaned. “Do you need me to try to dig into anything? Red, one of the officers, is here with his husband for dinner. I can ask him what they found out.”
“Marvin got their license plates and provided descriptions, but I just know they were after Pavle. We have many safe houses, and the only ones that are bothered have been the ones where Pavle has stayed.”
“Okay. Right now he’s safe. I’ve been keeping an eye out and limiting my contact to just one person in the department.” He hadn’t trusted anyone at the department beyond Briggs with information on where he was. “Would you be able to review who has access to your system? If you think someone is using that system to get their information, then there might be someone with access who shouldn’t have it.”
Marie hummed softly. “I thought of that and did the review last week. I removed some old accesses, but they hadn’t actually used the system in a while.”
“This lapse is new, so I bet either it’s someone with new access or someone whose access has been compromised. Maybe check for increased activity on an account.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll also go through the logs for specific information access, thought that’s going to be much more difficult. The logs are pretty intense. But I’ll try.”
“Let me know if you find anything. I’ll let Briggs know what’s going on, and maybe he can help from his end. Maybe Red can help as well.” Chris didn’t want to expand the circle too greatly, but they didn’t seem to know where Pavle was and were trying to flush him out.
“Okay. If I find anything, I’ll call.”
Chris agreed that he’d do the same and ended the call, returning to the dining room, where three sets of eyes followed him.
“What wrong?” Pavle asked.
“An incident at one of the safe houses today,” Chris answered.
“I heard about that. Do you think it’s related to Pavle?” Red asked.
“Marie thinks so. But I don’t know what they expected to get. He isn’t in the system, and even if they got very far, none of the people there know where he is.” Chris turned to Pavle. “None of us is going to let anything happen to you. They called the police, who went right over.”
Red humphed softly. “They aren’t going to find him unless they get lucky, and we can’t allow that to happen. I’ll check things out quietly. A lot of the guys are friends, and I’ll see if they have any ideas.”
“It’s organized crime. They have a bigger reach than any of us would like to think is possible,” Chris explained, and Red nodded his agreement.
Pavle sat quietly, his eyes as big as saucers. “People hurt because of me.”
“No. People are getting hurt because bad people are doing the hurting,” Terry said. “This is not your fault. Right, Red?”
“Yes. This isn’t your fault. Chris needs to keep you safe, and I need to work with my colleagues to try to find these people. This has got to stop soon or we aren’t going to be able to keep anyone safe.” Red picked up his dishes and carried them into the kitchen.
“There’s beer in the refrigerator if you want one,” Chris called, and the refrigerator door opened and closed. Red brought a couple of extras with him, and even Pavle took one.
“We know there’s a leak somewhere in one of the departments, and I think it’s mine,” Chris said. “Briggs thinks so too, but he isn’t getting very far.”
“The new sheriff is….” Red tipped his bottle to his lips. “He’s something else.”
“The guy is a moron. And he’s going to run for a full term. Someone needs to run against him, but everyone in my department is too scared to do it. If they lose, they’ll be out of a job.” Chris gulped down his beer. “I so want him to be the leak, but if he really is, then….” He looked at the others. “He can’t be. The sheriff doesn’t know exactly where Pavle is, but he probably has an idea. He assigned me to protect him.” As much as he didn’t like his new boss, at least he wasn’t in with the mob. That was some comfort anyway.
“Politics stinks,” Terry pronounced. “I avoid it as much as possible.”
Red slipped his arm around Terry’s shoulder. “No one can avoid it. Remember the presentation and hoops you had to jump through to get the funding for the pool improvements? All of that is politics, just on a smaller scale.”
Red and Terry talked about the projects Terry was working on in order to get the facilities at the Y upgraded. Chris was relieved that the conversation had shifted, and from the way Pavle listened and watched them, sitting back in his chair, he was relieved not to be the center of everyone’s attention as well.
Chris eventually cleared the last of the dishes and got another beer. They moved to the living room and talked for another hour before the conversation slowed.
“Your mama know about you?” Pavle asked out of the blue, but Chris was willing to bet he’d been trying to figure out how to ask his question for a while.
“My mom and dad are dead. But my aunt Margaret, who raised me afterward, knows. She loves Terry.” Red drew him a little closer. Those two were still so much in love with each other, it was impossible not to see it.
“You not shame?” Pavle asked. The others didn’t seem to understand his question, at least not fully. But another piece of the enigma that was Pavle fell into place for Chris.
“No. We aren’t ashamed of being together,” Terry answered, but that wasn’t Pavle’s question.
Chris turned to him. “Pavle, there is no shame in being gay… not here. Yes, some people don’t understand and don’t like gay people, but there is no shame in it. I’m gay, and so are Red and Terry. The people we work with know we’re gay. Terry is respected and known around the country. In most places in this country, you can be gay, and that’s okay. There is no shame in it, and it’s not bad or nasty. It’s just part of who we are.” He glanced at the others, who were both nodding.
The disbelief written in Pavle’s narrowed eyes and the creases around his mouth said he didn’t completely believe him. “But….”
Red nudged Terry and finished the last of his beer. “I think Terry and I should be going.” He stood and carried the bottles to the kitchen. He and Terry said good night to both of them and thanked Chris for the evening and the dinner. After hugs and walking to the door, Chris saw them out.
He gathered the dishes, loaded the dishwasher, and got it running before making sure the house was locked up and turning out the lights.
He found Pavle on the sofa in the living room, feet on the floor, back straight, hands folded in his lap, blinking as Chris came in and sat in the chair across from him. “You must have questions.”
Pavle nodded once. “It really okay to love men? Like they?”
Chris nodded. “Is that what you meant when you said you were ashamed?” He had thought it was because of what Pavle had done or been forced to do over the last four years, but now he was wondering if the shame welled up because of how he felt. Because he was gay in the first place.
“I shame all over,” Pavle said softly, and w
ithout thinking, Chris shifted to the sofa next to him. He stayed quiet, hoping Pavle would explain. “I stupid.”
“No. You aren’t stupid. You were taken advantage of and it wasn’t your fault. They lied to you all the time.” Honestly, Chris wasn’t sure what to try to tackle first. He took a deep breath. “Why don’t you tell me why you are shame.” He purposely used Pavle’s term in order to try to draw out his meaning.
“I like they… like you,” Pavle said, turning toward Chris with tears running down his cheeks. “Back home, they hate me. I shame my family. Mama and Papa hate me if know.” He slashed away the tears with a brusque hand movement. “They hate me.” His shoulders bounced, and he leaned against Chris, who put his arms around him.
“Your mama and papa loved you.” While Chris didn’t know that, it seemed to be what Pavle needed to hear. “When I was young, I told my mom and dad that I was gay. I thought they would hate me too. It took a long time for me to get up enough courage to tell them, but when I did, they said they already knew. That they had figured it out for themselves and they loved me.” Chris closed his eyes, rocking him gently back and forth.
“But I shame my village,” Pavle whispered.
“Did they know about you?” Chris asked, and Pavle shook his head against him.
“I leave. Come to America. I never tell.” The words could barely be heard through the agony that seemed to be welling up from inside. Chris tried to imagine what Pavle was feeling at that moment and failed completely. “I cannot tell. I fear and shame.”
Chris had no words that could comfort him. Instead, Chris held him, wishing for all the world that Pavle didn’t have to go through this.
“Am I shame?” Chris finally asked.
Pavle looked up from Chris’s chest, his blue shirt dotted with darker spots from the release of Pavle’s hurt. “You strong and smart. You no shame.” He sniffed.
“But I’m like you. I’m gay too.” Maybe he had hit on something. “If you are shame, then I am shame too because we are the same. We are both gay and like other men.” He held Pavle’s gaze, hoping he could get the message through to him one way or another.