by Andrew Grey
“Want make you… pride,” he said softly. “Want you… like me.”
“Pavle, I already like you, and I am so proud of you. I can’t tell you how much.” Chris swallowed hard. “I see people every day who give up. You don’t. That makes you strong.” He squeezed Pavle’s fingers gently.
“You say I need know what I want.” Pavle spoke slowly. “I know what I want.” He looked at where their hands joined. “This. Want always have this.” He raised their hands together. “I want stay here. Be here… with you. I want this.”
Chris was taken aback. Did Pavle understand what he was asking? “You want to live here with me?” He swallowed hard. What Pavle said could have so many meanings, and Chris wasn’t sure if it was what Pavle meant or what he thought it meant.
“I want this.” Pavle squeezed Chris’s hand harder, then slipped off the bed and leaned in quickly to kiss him. “I want….”
Chris held his breath. Pavle had kissed him, gently, quickly.
He shook his head to clear it. “How about we go back to bed and we can talk about this in the morning. Okay?” Chris needed to think, and he certainly wasn’t going to take a single kiss as a declaration of love. It could mean so many different things, especially in light of what had happened to Pavle. It didn’t matter that Chris’s heart beat faster just having Pavle near and the kiss sent his temperature soaring. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Pavle had the chance to be happy and to make his own choices for his life.
Pavle let go of Chris’s hand. “We talk later,” he said with more force than Chris expected, and left the room.
Chris went to close the door, shaking his head and wondering how he could possibly get any more sleep tonight.
AFTER A good breakfast, Chris took Pavle to where Briggs had agreed to meet them.
“You be strong. I know you can do it.” He squeezed Pavle’s hand once he’d pulled to a stop. Briggs opened the passenger door and escorted Pavle to the other car. Chris waved goodbye and pulled away once Briggs had driven off.
He sighed, wondering what he was going to do for a few hours. Chris decided to go to the grocery store and run some errands. He had to be careful not to be seen by someone in the department, so after making a few stops and unloading the groceries at home, he drove to Nanna’s.
“Where’s Pavle?” she asked as soon as she opened the door, looking around.
“He’s with the police.” Chris kissed her cheek and stepped inside. He explained about last night’s arrest and why he was staying away.
“Are you hungry?” Nanna asked.
“I had breakfast. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us some tea?” She always tried to do so much.
He went to the kitchen and put the water on, setting up the pot and cups, then carried a tray back into the living room. He poured her tea and handed it to her.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” she pressed as she took the cup.
“Nothing. Everything is good. Pavle is doing well. He seems to be getting used to things, but still eats like he was starving, which I think he might have been. Pavle has planted my backyard full of flowers, and tomorrow we’re going to see the people who helped rescue him. A minister and his wife.” He sat back and sipped from the cup. Chris didn’t love tea, but he’d learned to drink it with Nanna.
Nanna shook her head. “Have you listened to yourself? I asked how you were, and all you talk about is Pavle.” She set her cup and saucer on the coffee table, the same one Chris remembered playing on as a child. “Not that he isn’t a sweet boy, but I think your answer tells me plenty.”
“I’ve protecting him for a while. He’s been staying in my house, and….”
Nanna shook her head. “There’s more than that. I might be old, but I’m not blind. You like that boy.” She leaned closer. “He’s touched your heart. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Chris scoffed. “Nanna. He’s someone I’m supposed to be protecting, not falling in love with. What happens when this is all over and he decides to go home? Or worse, what if he isn’t allowed to stay? You know how things are right now with that sort of thing.” He set his cup across from hers.
“What does Pavle say he wants? Have you asked him?” She looked at him over her nose, the same look he’d gotten when he’d trampled her peas in the garden as a kid. “Of course you haven’t.” She sighed with exasperation. “You were always so careful around everyone else that we wondered if you’d ever learn to say what you wanted… and you’re doing it again. You care for Pavle, so you’re puzzling through everything trying to figure out what he wants.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to do? I won’t press Pavle into anything—and I could do that. He likes me, I know he does, and I like him. Pavle is a really nice man, but he’s been through hell—you know that. What if he wants to make me happy and ends up in a relationship he doesn’t want?” He huffed and snatched up his cup with enough force that it almost spilled everywhere.
“But what if he does? And what do you want?” she said, so damned calm.
“He’s been through so much. I can’t foist myself on him no matter how I feel.”
“Foisting….” She snorted. “I like that word. But you, my dear, have never been a foister. You’d sit back and let Pavle walk out of your life without saying a word. That sweet young man has had all that’s good and kind stripped away from him, and look at him… he’s kind and thoughtful. He still cares about everyone else, when a lot of people would be selfish or spend their time feeling sorry for themselves.”
“He’s never done that.”
“Nope. But he is trying to figure things out and he’s looking to you to help him.”
“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean he loves me. And can I really expect him to simply form a relationship with me when he hasn’t had a chance to see anything of the world? That isn’t fair to him. He needs to have the chance to experience things and be able to make decisions that affect his life.” Chris blinked and sipped the tea.
“Yes, he does. But what I want to ask you is, if Pavle actually tells you what he wants, will you listen with your heart as well as that stubborn head of yours, or will you hang on to what you think?” She leaned forward and guided his cup to the table. “Sweetheart, sometimes you get so deep in your own head that you don’t listen to what others are trying to tell you. If Pavle says what he wants, he isn’t going to beat you over the head.” She rolled her eyes and patted his cheek. “He’s going to tell you much more subtly and in his own way.”
“Like by kissing me?” Chris asked, and immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“He kissed you?” Nanna asked. “That must have taken a lot of courage. You need to talk to him, listen to him, and believe him when he tells you what he wants. The man knows his own mind. He might have some trouble expressing himself in English, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he wants, only that he may have difficulty expressing it to you.”
“Then what do I do?” Chris asked. “Have you move into the house, so you can translate for me?” He was being ridiculous and regretted it immediately, and the momentary “biting a lemon” look on Nanna’s lips showed pretty clearly how she felt.
“I love you, honey, but we’d hate each other in a few days.” She chuckled. “I like doing things my way, and so do you. Besides, when my callers come to visit, we’d want some privacy.” She winked at him, and Chris nearly dropped his cup. The last thing he wanted to think about was his nanna dating… and having callers. Who knew what that meant? He needed brain bleach, and he needed it bad. There was no way he was ever going to be able to unhear that. “I’m old, but not dead, you know.” She sipped her tea while Chris tried his best not to choke.
“You can be as undead as you’d like, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about you bumping uglies with some old man.” He shivered and closed his eyes, shoving away the terrifying images that tried to push their way into his head.
She snorted. “You know Richie Haskins from next door?” Now she was just being mean.
“Nanna, I don’t need to know. Really, please. Just let me go through life thinking that you’re my perfect nanna who never has sex with anyone and is loving and caring and completely celibate. It means I can sleep at night.” His head pounded, and he drank the last of his cup of tea. “I think we got off the topic.” Something he swore he was going to regret for days and days.
“Don’t worry, honey. I read this article about a resurgence in STDs among older people, so I make him wrap his willie.” She set her cup on the table, and Chris knew she was doing it on purpose now.
Okay. Time for a little payback. “Thank God. Can you imagine me having to take you to the clap clinic?” He rolled his eyes and actually managed to catch his breath, though the idea of Nanna with a venereal disease left him cold. “Anyway… you were saying… about Pavle? Before the conversation fell into the abyss leading halfway to hell.”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled as though they’d been talking about puppies and kittens. “You need to listen to him, really listen. Not police listen, like you’re interrogating someone, but using your ears as well as your heart.”
“But….” Chris sighed, having trouble putting his thoughts together. It had to be an errant image of Nanna with her neighbor going at it. He shook his head to try to get the idea out of his mind, but it wasn’t fucking working.
“Just trust yourself and your heart.” She sat back slowly. “All kidding about my love life aside, you have an amazing heart, and you want me and Pavle to be happy. You always wanted to make others happy. It’s part of your DNA. So listen to him and worry a little bit less about what you think is good for him and what you think he needs. Let him tell you. That boy had a long time to think and to dream about what his life would be like when his nightmares were over. Sometimes he didn’t dare think about it because he was so busy trying to survive, but he did dream, and Pavle knows what he wants.”
“Has he told you?” Chris asked.
Nanna shook her head. “Pavle is smart enough to make up his own mind. You said he kissed you. Do you think Pavle would really do that if he wasn’t trying to tell you something?” She shifted in her chair. “Getting old sucks,” she added with a slight wince.
“I keep wondering what he meant. I mean….” He closed his eyes, willing the start of a headache away.
“Think about it. For years Pavle had no control over who he kissed or who he had sex with. That choice was taken away from him. But last night, he voluntarily kissed you. You didn’t ask or tell him to—he just did it… right?”
“I guess. But…. A kiss is….” He hated when he couldn’t find the words.
“Sometimes the most intimate thing we as humans can do. I know you might think it’s sex, but I think it’s a kiss. Sex, at least in Pavle’s world, was traded—it was payment. But a kiss, that’s the window to the heart… and soul. It always was for me… still is.”
Chris nodded slowly. He had to agree with that. “But it can be something else entirely.”
“Yes, but a kiss, freely given, unasked for… that is something special. It’s a glimpse and small peek into his heart.” She leaned forward to pat Chris’s knee. “You need to sit down and talk with him.” She paused. “And then you have to be honest and tell him how you feel. That is often the more difficult side of the conversation.”
“I can’t. Not right now. If I tell Pavle how I feel about him, he’ll want to make me happy and probably go along with what I want. He feels indebted to me, and I won’t use that against him in any way. No matter what anyone says.” He took a deep breath and released it. “All this might be putting the horse before the cart anyway.” Chris jumped when his phone vibrated. It was Briggs.
“Pavle did great. We’re finishing up here, and I’ll drop him at your house, around the back, in half an hour.”
Chris acknowledged that and slipped his phone in his pocket. “I need to go.” A touch of anxiety was already building in his stomach. “They finished at the police station.” He took care of Nanna’s cup and saucer, rinsing them out and leaving them in the otherwise empty sink. Then he returned to kiss her goodbye. “Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.” He hugged her.
“You take care, and promise me you’ll call me and let me know how things go with your young man.” She chuckled softly in his ear, and Chris released her. He closed the door behind him before making the short drive home, his mind whirring in myriad directions.
“CHRIS,” PAVLE said as he came inside, with Briggs following behind him.
“How did it go?” Chris hurried in from the living room where he’d been watching television, meeting them in the kitchen. Well, he’d had it on, but found it hard to concentrate.
“He was amazing,” Briggs said. “He identified our suspect without a moment’s hesitation, and he provided some intimate details about him that will prove damaging, especially since knowing them proves the type of relationship they had.” Briggs set his hat on the kitchen table, his equipment squeaking a little as he moved.
“Are you hungry?” Chris asked Pavle, who nodded and sat down quietly, his hands folded, resting on the table. Chris got to work making lunch. “Can you stay?” Chris asked Briggs.
“No. I need to get back. I talked to Marie this morning, and I was hopeful we had found the leak, but now I don’t think so. Each of the people I suspected only viewed what they were supposed to. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Their access was granted specifically, and there was no way they could have gotten to anyone else’s records.” Briggs growled under his breath. “It’s back to the drawing board.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m looking into other ways they could have gotten the information, but I don’t see it. The leak has to be there somewhere. I made contact in Carlisle as well, and they are reviewing their records, but so far they have come up with nothing.” Briggs picked up his hat. “We will find out who the traitor in our midst is, and so help me….”
“I know you will.” Chris didn’t want to say something silly, but Briggs was his hero. He was a good officer who knew how to do his job and did it well. In his time as interim sheriff, he had earned the respect of the men under him quickly.
“You keep him safe. Pavle is going to be an amazing witness once we bring this scum to trial.” Briggs set his jaw, and Chris motioned toward the back door. He walked Briggs out through the yard. “This whole thing has everyone in the county up in arms. It’s hit the papers and all the local news stations. The sheriff is getting nervous because he thought that once we caught this guy, the pressure would ease. But it isn’t. Everyone wants to know who brought Pavle here. Pavle isn’t the first person we’ve rescued this way in the last year. Though the other cases were women—which, don’t get me wrong, still sucks—but none of them has gotten the media attention the way Pavle’s has.” Briggs clapped him on the shoulder. “I need you to keep him safe at all costs. The FBI sent over copies of the pictures he drew, and everyone who came in contact with him has a reason to be scared shitless.” He plopped his hat on his head.
“I was there when he talked to them.” Chris tried not to think about that too much. “It was upsetting. Some of it nearly made me sick.” He coughed to cover his discomfort. “Has bail been set?”
“Yes. It was two million. He isn’t going anywhere.” Briggs actually smiled.
That was a relief. It meant Pavle was at least a modicum safer.
Briggs turned toward the back gate and then paused. “You call me if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary. I got the sheriff to increase patrols in this area of town under the guise of additional drug activity, and the local police are doing the same. There should always be someone no more than a few minutes away at any time. So don’t hesitate to call for any reason.” He pulled open the door and left the yard.
Chris locked all the doors behind him, then went back to making lunch.
“How many times I do this
?” Pavle asked.
“A lot,” Chris said, feeling for him. It was hell trying to get past something when the police, prosecutors, and social workers asked him about it every damn day. “I wish I could take it away, but I can’t.” He set the loaf of bread aside. “I know it’s hard, but you’re helping all of us and yourself. Anthony is behind bars, and it’s doubtful he’s going to get out. His bail is huge, and he doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“Good. He no hurt me anymore.” The confidence in Pavle’s voice was more than a little heartening. He really did have steel in his spine.
“That’s right.” There were other people who could hurt him, though, who were still out there. But one danger had been neutralized, and that was progress. Chris pulled out the chair and sat down next to Pavle. “Are you okay? What happened?” He had to know.
“Mr. Briggs nice to me. He take me to station, give me awful coffee.” Pavle made a face. Chris knew exactly how bad that coffee was, especially by midmorning, after it had been sitting around getting stronger for hours. “Then he take me to room.” Pavle tensed. “I scared INS come take me.”
“Is that what he told you? Harvey Anthony?” Chris asked, and Pavle nodded.
“He say lots of things. That I bad, that they take me and hurt me. That if they come, they kill me and hide me. No one find me.” Pavle sniffed. “I know he lie. I learn and smart. He nasty and stupid. But I scared.” He sighed. “Briggs nice. He say I okay and show me pictures. I point out Anthony and tell him about ding-dong.” Pavle turned away. “Tell him everything. Then he take me to other room. I shake head. He no right man. I tell Briggs and feel bad. But he nod.”