by Kelsey Hodge
I can’t believe he’s standing here in front of me. What he’s saying is right, but I never lost my trust in him. It was me who lied, not him. He was honest with me from the very beginning, so it’s only his trust in me that needs to be worked on. I’ll make sure that he’ll never have reason to doubt me again.
“I promise to never lie to you again… unless of course, it’s those little white ones,” I say jokingly. “How else do I keep birthday or Christmas presents a surprise from you?” When he finally figures out my joke, he laughs at me.
“Oh my God,” he says, shaking his head, “you think you’re so funny.”
“Yep. It comes from living with you all these years.” I smile so hard when he pulls me into another hug, it soon hurts my cheeks. I don’t care. Wyatt is home with me.
Everything is right with the world again until he says, “We need to talk for a second.” Inside my head, I groan, but when I see Wyatt staring at me, I realize I must have done it aloud.
“Talk? What else do we have to talk about?” I ask. Racking my brain, I try to figure out what else we must talk about, but nothing comes to mind.
“Marco.” That’s the last name I expected to hear.
“Let’s sit.” He takes hold of my hand and leads me to the couch.
I ask, “What about Marco?”
“He came into the station today to file a missing person report. The sergeant on duty recognized you in a photo Marco had brought with him and contacted me. Liam and I went to the front desk, but I sent Liam over to talk to him. I hid so he couldn’t see me. Just in case your family ever wanted to make amends.”
“Nice thought, but I very much doubt it,” I say. “What did Liam find out?”
“The basics. Liam said he would look into it and took his contact information.”
“Didn’t Marco think it was strange that a detective from narcotics was coming to talk to him about a missing person?”
“Liam never mentioned what division he was from, just in case.”
“Right. So, what do I do know?” I ask.
“What does he do? Is he a danger to you?” Wyatt asks.
“Danger to me,” I say, and I don’t understand what he means
“Yeah, can he hurt you?
What does he do in the business?” I cannot help but laugh, so hard I hold my sides. When I finally compose myself a few minutes later, I tell him, “Oh, God, no! Marco could never hurt me. He isn’t involved in the business. Dad said he only wanted one of his sons to go into the business—his idea of stopping any in-fighting. I don’t think he actually knows what Dad does.”
“So, what does he do?” Wyatt asks.
“You won’t believe this, but he’s a high school teacher.” This time, Wyatt bursts out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Nothing. When I was watching him, I thought he looked more like a teacher than a gangster.”
“Marco is a good guy,” I say.
“Do you want to contact him?” Wyatt asks me.
Now that’s a burning question. After everything that has happened, I didn’t think I would see my family ever again. I had guessed that Dad would say something to my mother and brother, and that would be the end of it. I’m surprised Marco is looking for me. I now need to decide what, if any, contact I want to have with Marco. I hate the fact he’s so worried about me that he went to the police. That’s when it dawns on me. There’s no way Marco would have told Dad he was going to the police. He has always been very vocal about how much he hates the police. He would have been discouraged to go, even if his son is missing.
“I need to tell him I’m okay, Wyatt,” I say.
“I had a feeling you might, so I made sure to get you a new cell on the way over.”
I watch as Wyatt gets up from the couch and makes his way over to the bags still on the floor by the front door. He opens his duffel bag and pulls out a boxed phone and something that looks like a credit card. It’s the newest model and what I thought was the credit card is the SIM. I rip open the cellophane, eager to get to the cell to get it up and running as soon as possible. I put in the SIM card, turn on the phone, and wait for the loading screen to light up. I don’t miss the laughter in Wyatt’s eyes as he watches me.
“What?” I ask, not understanding the laughter.
“Nothing. Just enjoy watching you. It’s nice to see a smile on your face.”
“I need your and Liam’s numbers, please?” With slight hesitation, I ask, “And Marco’s.”
“Of course,” he says, giving me the numbers.
I quickly input the number into the phone, open the text screen, and type out a message. Almost instantly, Wyatt’s cell beeps with an incoming text.
>Love You
Wyatt looks up at me, smiling. “You have my number now,” I tell him.
“Without taking away from the moment, the number is on my account, so I had it already.”
“Oh, yeah.” Blushing, I had forgotten he bought it for me.
“Right, now that your phone is up and running, you need to decide what you’re going to about your brother.”
“I’ll send him a text and suggest meeting at a coffee shop tomorrow. He won’t rest until he sees me face to face,” I tell Wyatt.
“That sounds like a good idea. Just make sure you withhold your number.”
I reopen the text message app and then stop to think about what I’ll text him. It needs to be a reassuring message but not something he would need to reply to. I decide to go with straight to the point.
>Hi Marco, it’s Lorenzo. Sorry I haven’t been in touch, but I’ll be at ‘The Bean’ coffee shop tomorrow at 12. If you can meet me, I’ll explain everything.
I show the text message to Wyatt who gives his thumb’s up, so I hit send, wishing he could reply to me. I hope this eases some of his worries. Now, I must decide how much to tell him, and if he’ll believe me if I tell him the truth. Suddenly, I’m incredibly nervous over this meeting tomorrow, then I feel a hand on my leg, squeezing it.
“You thinking about what you’re going to say to him?” Wyatt asks.
I nod my head, still very much rooted in my thoughts. I don’t want to think about tomorrow’s meeting and what I have to say to Marco.
“Can we talk about something else?” I ask.
“Sure, what?”
I look over to Wyatt, and I no longer want to talk. I want to celebrate the fact he’s back at the apartment. I climb onto his lap and straddle him. He wraps his arms around me. Leaning down, I kiss him. Licking his lips, I’m pleased when he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. I explore his mouth like I haven’t tasted it in months, not the mere days it’s been. I feel my cock harden as it pushes against my zipper. With the way I’m sitting on his lap, I feel Wyatt’s is the same. I grind mine into his and am pleased when I hear a moan escape his mouth. I get off his lap and stand in front of him. Holding out my hand, he pauses for a split second. I must wonder if maybe this is a little too soon. Just as I’m about to ask him, he gets up from the spot and takes hold of my hand, and I lead him to the bedroom. We spend the rest of the night exploring each other’s bodies and reconnecting in the most intimate ways possible. We both fall asleep tangled in each other’s arms, sated and happy. The world is right again when I have Wyatt in my arms, and I’m sure I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
The next morning comes around all too soon and before I know it, it’s time to leave the apartment and make my way to the coffee shop. I get there early to make sure we can get a table at the back of the shop. This will give us some much-needed privacy. I sit facing the entrance and wait. When the waitress comes over to order, I explain that I’m waiting on another party and will order when he arrives, keeping my fingers crossed that Marco arrives. At five minutes to twelve, the door opens to the shop, and I look up with curiosity. I’m relieved to see it’s Marco. He scans all the tables, looking for me. I rise from my seat, wave, and call out, “Marco.” When he spots me, the smile on his
face lights up the room. He runs over to me as quick as he can in a crowded coffee shop. When he gets to me, he pulls me into a bear hug so tight, I struggle to breathe and yelp in pain as my ribs complain a little. He must have heard me because he jumps back.
“Sorry,” he says as he pulls out the chair opposite me and sits. While I take my seat, he says, “Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick. Why the fuck are you sending me messages from an unknown number?”
“I’ll explain it all, but the waitress is making her way over to us. Let’s order first. I’ll then explain as much as I can.” I’ve decided not to mention Dad organizing the attack, to keep him in the dark and hopefully safe. We both order a cappuccino, and once the waitress is out of earshot, I explain.
“After the meal at Mom and Dad’s, I decided to walk home to try to get my head around what happened. I was expecting a bad reaction, but not that bad. Anyway, I was robbed. Stole my cell, my wallet, and for good measure, they beat me up good. I’ve been in the hospital for a few days.” I can tell he’s shocked by the news.
“When you say, ‘beat me up good,’ how bad was it?” he asks.
Taking a deep breath, I give him my answer, but he won’t like it. “It wasn’t good. I had some internal bleeding that required surgery, some broken ribs, a broken cheekbone and a concussion.”
“Holy shit, Lorenzo. That’s slightly more than ‘good.’ Why the fuck didn’t the hospital contact us?”
I hesitate for a second and then decide not to mention the note until I’m one hundred percent sure he doesn’t know how evil Dad is. So, I lie, “I have no idea but let’s be truthful. Would Mom and Dad have come to the hospital to see me?” By the look of uncertainty on his face, he knows he can’t say for sure they would have.
“If I had known, I would’ve come. Somehow, I would’ve gotten to you,” Marco whispers.
“I know that, Marco. Believe me, I know. It’s okay,” I tell him.
“You were alone through all of it. That isn’t okay,” he says.
Oh shit, I didn’t expect him to say that. I hoped not to mention Wyatt, but I’ll have to. I rack my brain about how I can without giving too much away. At this moment, I’ll stir the conversation with labels and no names until I’m ready.
“Marco, I wasn’t alone. My boyfriend was with me.”
“So, you weren’t lying when you came out that night,” he says to me, but there’s a look on his face I can’t place, something confusing and maybe worry. I don’t want to look too far into that now.
“No, I wasn’t. I’ve been with my guy for two years.” I realize I have a good reason to explain why I came out that night. “He knew I wasn’t out to my family, but it was causing arguments. The death of Tony made me rethink things, so I came out. I feel like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how much it weighed me down until it wasn’t there anymore. I do have one regret now though.”
“What’s that?” he asks, surprise lacing his voice.
With complete honesty, I say, “I wish I had told you. I think you would’ve understood.” The smile on his face confirms I’m right. He would’ve understood.
“Believe me, I would have,” he tells me. I think there’s more to that statement than he’s letting on. Before I can ask, he says, “I’ve never seen Mom and Dad as angry as they were that night. The moment the front door was closed on you, Dad was on his cell. His face was scary. It looked like he wanted to kill someone. I’ve never seen him look like that before.”
I take a sip of my coffee as he says the last line, and I almost choke on it. I must stop myself from saying what’s going through my mind. Dad was trying to organize my death. All I do is apologize and pass the choke off as the coffee being too hot and ask him to continue.
“Mom went as white as a sheet and kept going on about all the girls she has introduced you to. I still don’t think she one hundred percent believes it. She has asked me a few times if I knew anything about it, but then the questions stopped. Now they don’t mention it or you—it’s bizarre.”
“I’m sorry, Marco. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this, but I couldn’t continue to live a lie, so I made the hardest decision of my life. My family or my happiness—you know the answer.” When I look at him after this statement, I expect to see hurt or something else. What I see is curiosity.
“Was it worth it?”
“Was what worth it?” I ask him, confused by the question.
“Your decision. You know, happiness over family,” he says.
I’m beginning to think there’s more to this question. I think hard about my answer before giving it to him.
“It was the right decision for me, Marco. So yes, it was completely worth it. But why are you asking about that?”
“Because I’m gay too,” he says so quietly I can barely hear him.
“Sorry, but did you say you’re gay?” I must ask, to make sure I heard him right.
“Yes.” His head is down, looking at the table like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
Then it sinks in. Holy shit, that’s the last thing I expect to hear from Marco. I honestly have no idea what to think. When I look up at him, he’s still staring at the table. I realize he’s acting almost ashamed. I’m suddenly concerned that he’s told our parents, and they’ve made him feel this way. Was their reaction as bad as it was with me? I also must consider that he hasn’t said anything and the danger he’ll be in. There’s no way Dad will tolerate two gay sons.
“Do Mom and Dad know?” I demand with more force than is probably needed.
“No,” he tells the table.
“Thank God for that!” With that exclamation from me, he looks up with surprise on his face. He must have been expecting me to tell him to tell Mom and Dad.
“I was going to tell them and had been building up to it, but when I saw their reaction to you, I changed my mind. Does that make me a coward?”
Is that why he’s ashamed? He thinks I’ll call him out as being a coward for not doing the one thing I was able to do. What he doesn’t understand is I knew the consequences of my actions. To him, we have normal parents, so how they reacted to me must have come as a complete shock.
I reach over the table, grab his hand, and squeeze it. “Marco, you aren’t a coward. No one will blame you for staying silent, considering how they reacted to me.”
“I thought they were more forward thinking than that. I’m faced with the same decision as you. Do I want my family or a future where I’m true to myself?”
“I’m sorry, Marco, but I can’t help you make that decision. I spent a long time coming to mine, but yours will be easier. Regardless of what happens with Mom and Dad, I’ll always be your brother.”
“Thanks, Lorenzo; that means a lot.” I see the gratitude in his eyes even if they’re shrouded in uncertainty. Seeing that look on his face, I need to know how much he knows about the family business. It’s the only way I’ll be able to gauge his safety if he decides to come out to our parents.
“Okay, this is gonna sound like a strange question, but do you know what Dad does for a living?” The look he gives me confirms that he thinks I’ve completely lost it.
“You’re right. That is a strange question. Why?” he says.
“I’ve been wondering, and it’s kinda important.” I hope to God my answer doesn’t sound as lame aloud as it does in my head. I’m thankful he answers anyway.
“He’s in the flower import business, but I would have thought you would know that, as he supplies your wholesaler.”
“Don’t you think we’re quite wealthy for just importing flowers?” I ask him. Surely, he must have had these thoughts too. I want to see if he ever asked Dad and what the answer was.
“I thought that too, so I asked Dad.”
“What did Dad say?” I’m intrigued by what the answer will be.
“Lorenzo, what the fuck is going on with you? What’s with all the questions?” he asks, and I see he’s a li
ttle agitated.
“Just curious,” I reply. By the look on his face, he knows I’m lying but seems to give me the benefit of the doubt.
“He said it was due to investments he was involved in.”
I’m quite pleased with the response. It means that Marco has no idea about the family business. I’ll have to tell him, but I think I want some support around me when I do. An idea comes to me. I pull out my cell and text a quick message to Wyatt.
>Can you be home in an hour?
His reply comes back almost instantly.
>Working from home this afternoon. I wanted to be here in case you needed me.
I can’t help the smile that appears on my face
>Bringing my brother back with me… Yes, it’s safe :)
I spot my brother looking at my cell, wondering what’s going on. I hope he’s free this afternoon. I’ve automatically presumed he is.
“Are you busy this afternoon?” I ask him.
“No, I have a free day from school. Why?”
“We’re going back to my place. There’s someone I would like you to meet.” He knows who I mean without having to say anything. His face brightens with excitement.
“Let’s finish our coffees and get going.” I swear if given a chance, he may down his coffee like it’s a shooter. But we manage not to and make some small talk for five minutes about his position at the school. The moment we finish the last drop of coffee, he’s on his feet. “So, can we walk, or do we need a cab to your place?” He’s almost hopping from one foot to another in excitement.
Smiling, I tell him, “We can walk. It’s about fifteen minutes away.” He’s already making his way to the front of the shop. Chuckling, I get up, pull out my wallet, leave some bills on the table, and follow him out of the shop. Once we’re together on the sidewalk, I point him in the direction, and we make our way home. When we’re outside the apartment door, Marco goes quiet. He even looks nervous. I had thought I would feel the same way, but surprisingly I’m not. I’m excited. This will be the first time ever that I’ll be introducing a member of my family to my boyfriend. It turns out I’m introducing my extremely hot boyfriend to my gay brother. Now, I shouldn’t but can’t resist saying to him, “Remember he’s mine.”