Angel's Truth

by Liz Borino

  “You act like you make it easy to—” Skype’s ring tone interrupted Aaron’s words.

  Jordan pressed the green accept button. Adeela’s face filled the screen. “Good morning, Adeela. This is Angel,” he greeted her in Farsi. “He goes by Aaron to everyone who isn’t me.”

  “Hello, Aaron,” she replied in English with a warm smile. “Jordan, you look so much better.”

  “Thank you. Would you prefer English or Farsi? Angel and I speak both,” Jordan told her.

  “English, please, Anwar does not understand it.”

  “Is he there?” Aaron extended his back to his full height.

  “My, you’re tall!” she exclaimed. “You tower over Jordan when you’re both sitting.” Adeela took a drink of tea. “No, he is not here. He has a phone meeting with the man from the CIA. Hart, right?”

  “Yes, do they speak often?” Jordan asked.

  “I believe so, yes,” she responded. “Hart was rather angry to hear of your escape.”

  I’ll bet he was. “Has Anwar gotten over it?” Adeela had told Jordan that Anwar blamed her for his escape. He would not have cared so much if he were not worried about Hart no longer assisting them in finding Jalalabad.

  “Once Hart offered to find him another soldier to question while he continued searching himself, Anwar forgot about being angry.”

  “I don’t think any soldiers are going to know,” Aaron suggested.

  “I understand that, but let him keep trying. He stays busy and I can focus on caring for prisoners,” Adeela answered.

  “Speaking of prisoners, how long do you have until you have to work?” Jordan fingered the folder with all the information he and Aaron compiled.

  Adeela glanced at her watch. “About two hours before I go to the infirmary.”

  More than enough time to get a start on this.

  “What do you think happened to Jalalabad?” Aaron asked her.

  She met his gaze. “My guess is that he’s dead, which would be fine if we could have his body back to give him a proper burial. Anwar is going crazy in his pursuit of closure.” Adeela sighed and shook her head. “Hart knows more than he is saying.”

  “That’s what we’re thinking, too,” Jordan said. He quieted to see what she would volunteer.

  “Hart claims to represent your government, but any other time we have dealt with them, it’s been groups of people. And never have we started at the top,” Adeela said.

  “Did you say that to Anwar?” Aaron asked.

  Adeela offered him an innocent smile. “Dear Aaron, I am only a woman. I could not hope to grasp the delicacies of political negotiations.”

  Aaron grinned. “Aren’t you a nurse?”

  “Yes, but that makes no difference to him. My life is far easier when he underestimates me,” she replied. “How did your commanding officer respond to the story, Jordan? When we last spoke, he was still investigating.”

  Jordan took a breath. “Not well, Adeela. He doesn’t approve of the way I got home.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why does it matter? You’re alive!”

  “He found that argument less than convincing. He kept questioning me on what the plane carried,” Jordan explained.

  “Drugs,” she told him. “Narcotics of some sort.”

  “See,” Aaron cut in, “not terrorist weapons. The people buying those drugs will be far too happy to attempt an attack.”

  Yet, Jordan knew that answer would not comfort Bryant, as drugs were still illegal and could be sold to fund terrorist organizations.

  “Is he stupid?” Adeela asked.

  “Me?” Aaron’s face fell.

  “No. The commanding officer. For caring how you made it home.”

  Aaron laughed. “I always thought so, but no one cares about my opinion.”

  “Oh, do you speak too much truth?”

  “Something like that.” Aaron faced Jordan. “She’s fun.”

  Jordan rubbed Aaron’s back, and asked, “Does Anwar keep a written schedule for executions?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “The guards and prisoners must be prepared.”

  Jordan ran his fingers through his hair. “Would it be dangerous for you to send us a copy of it?”

  “No. I can scan and email it, but why?” A mixture of anger, disgust, and horror colored Adeela’s face as Jordan explained Bryant’s decree. “So, let me get this straight. For escaping from a foreign prison, your commanding officer might… throw you in prison?” Jordan nodded. “Has anyone informed him that he is an idiot of the highest order?”

  “Jordan won’t let me!” Aaron whined.

  “He’s following protocol,” Jordan started, but Adeela interrupted.

  “You are not defending the man who, against all logic, is persecuting you for escaping a situation that his people put you in! I know because you are not the same level of idiot as him.”

  Aaron clapped. “Thank you, Adeela.”

  I better enjoy having a voice because when we bring her over here, I won’t be heard over these two. Jordan sighed. “Both of you please calm down.”

  “You gave them my name, correct?” Adeela clarified.

  “Yes, but you’re safe. I promise.”

  “I don’t doubt you.” Adeela rolled her eyes. “I will get you the schedule. Will you tell me if you hear of any planned attacks?”

  “Yes.” Jordan hesitated, then added, “If you’re still interested, I will find a way to bring you over here.”

  Adeela glanced up at her hijab. “I don’t know how you would convince them to help an enemy’s wife.”

  Jordan smiled at her. “After we convince them that a major general is working behind their backs, saving an enemy’s wife will be cake.”

  She laughed. “If anyone can do it, Jordan, it’s you. I should hang up. Anwar will be back soon. We’ll keep each other updated.”

  “Adeela,” Aaron called. “Thank you for giving me my husband back.” He hugged Jordan tight.

  “You’re welcome. Good luck,” she said as she ended the call.

  Jordan kept Aaron locked in the embrace. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Aaron pressed their lips together and added, “I’ll send Troy a message.”

  Jordan nodded. He had hoped they wouldn’t need contact with Hart in order to gather the required evidence to convict. For the next hour, Jordan and Aaron discussed the parameters of Aaron’s “friendship” with Troy. Minimal touching, no personal information exchanged, never bring Troy there, and never allow Jordan and Troy to interact. That one was more for Troy’s protection than Aaron’s. Even with the guidelines in place, the thought of Aaron with the man turned Jordan’s stomach.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m so glad you changed your mind about spending time together, Aaron,” Troy said that Saturday as they met for coffee.

  Aaron gave him a smile and adjusted the collar of his shirt, where a paper ant – live surveillance device – was attached. Jordan had insisted he wear it whenever Aaron and Troy were together. Aaron had a chuckle on the drive over picturing Jordan watching on the laptop. Maybe on the way home I’ll give him something to watch… Aaron blinked and turned his attention back to Troy. “Me, too,” Aaron responded.

  “I wish you’d let me explain,” Troy started, but Aaron shook his head.

  “No need. I’m sure your sources lied to you,” Aaron said. He didn’t need Jordan hearing the lies.

  “Exactly, I’m outraged, really. The soldiers who provided the picture are under scrutiny as we speak.”

  “Soldiers? As in American soldiers?” Aaron asked. He couldn’t stop himself.

  Troy’s brow moistened. “Of course. What other soldiers would I be in contact with?”

  “Obviously none,” Aaron stated. “Why don’t we get out of here? There’s a sidewalk sale on the other side of Market Street.”

  “Sure,” Troy replied, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, exposing his stomach.

  Hopefully we can find
him clothes that fit. Bare mid-riff tops are not meant for naked mole rats.

  They left the coffeehouse and meandered down the sidewalk for a moment in silence. “How are things at home?” Troy asked.

  “Great,” Aaron answered.

  Troy raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

  “Guess I don’t have much to add.” Not true. If he had someone to gush to, Aaron had plenty to add about how grateful he was every single day. But that seemed less than appropriate under the circumstances. Aaron picked up a t-shirt with SpongeBob on it. Not that it would fit him, but it would fit Jordan. And Jordan hated SpongeBob. Aaron gave the cashier his money. His skin pricked as a looming presence inched closer. He edged out of the way. “Finding anything?”

  “Not my style,” Troy responded, following step for step.

  “Yeah? What is your style?” Aaron asked.

  “I shop at Bloomingdale’s and Neimen Marcus.” Troy’s voice heightened in the way gay men’s did when they had to ensure that whoever they were speaking to had no doubts about their sexuality. Besides, the only style category you could put those stores into was pretentious. Then again, Aaron was not up on the fashion trends. “Ever been?” Troy questioned.

  “Uh… yeah. Bloomingdale’s has great bathrooms, cloth towels and everything.” His shocked expression gave Aaron enough time to move away. “What do you think of this?” Aaron held up a disco ball.

  Troy smirked. “What would you do with that?”

  Aaron considered a moment. “Dining room. Maybe turn it on during Thanksgiving.” He laughed out loud when he thought of Jordan watching this discussion at home…

  ****

  “First SpongeBob and now a disco ball? Where the fuck are you getting all this money?” Jordan interrogated the computer screen. It was absolutely inconsequential to Jordan that they had enough money to support themselves, as Aaron’s new job paid better than his CIA one. Incredible for how flexible his hours were. A knock sounded at the door, and Jordan leaned back in his chair to see his father’s car outside. “Damn it,” he muttered, removing his headphones and minimizing the video window. Jordan grabbed his one crutch and hobbled to the door. “Hey, Dad. Everything all right?”

  “I need to speak with you,” Elliot said as Jordan let him in.

  “Um… right now?”

  “No, son.” Elliot took a seat on the couch and rested his cane beside him. “I drove over here for something that can wait.”

  Jordan sat across from his father and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Aaron?”

  Now I understand why answering a question with a question is so annoying, and where I picked up the habit. “He’s buying nonsense downtown,” Jordan replied.

  “He isn’t alone.” Elliot shook his head. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in him. I cut him some slack while you were away, but… why are you shaking your head at me? I saw him, Jordan. I can prove it.”

  “You don’t have to. I am well-aware of who he is with and what nonsense he is buying,” Jordan told him.

  Elliot’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “You’re all right with that?”

  “No,” Jordan said. “We have no use for a disco ball.”

  “And who he’s with?” Elliot asked.

  Jordan chewed his bottom lip before replying, “We might have a use for him. Rather, we have use for the information he is in possession of. And we can’t seem to get that information without him.”

  Elliot stared at Jordan, swallowed twice, and pressed, “Aaron is not cheating on you?”

  “No, but I can’t say more than I have because you should not be implicated in this.”

  Inhaling deeply and pulling himself to his feet, Elliot said, “All right, please don’t get yourself in trouble.” As he was almost out the door, Elliot turned and added, “I am more than happy to give you pointers on how to eliminate him once you have what you need.”

  Oh, I have quite a few ideas on elimination. Though Jordan often questioned if he would follow through if given the opportunity. More than likely, he’d be satisfied to see the law handle Hart. Jordan shut the door behind his father. He would not be dragging him into this mess. Hobbling back to the computer, Jordan enlarged the video, but didn’t bother to reengage the sound when he saw Aaron climbing into his car. He was perfectly capable of driving the few blocks home without Jordan monitoring him. Jordan opened Google Chrome to check Facebook. He got so lost in cat pictures and motivational memes that he nearly jumped out of his skin as Aaron entered the house swinging two bags against the wall and door. “What are we going to do with a disco ball?” Jordan greeted him as he stood and made his way to the couch, noting the passage of ten minutes. “And don’t say Thanksgiving. My father will have a seizure.”

  Aaron laughed, set the bags on the opposite couch, and cuddled up to Jordan. “How about the bedroom? We would have to turn it off to sleep, but it might enhance the mood during sex.”

  Jordan eyed him, but wrapped his arms around Aaron’s angular frame. “I missed the last few minutes. Anything interesting happen?”

  “Damn! That was the best part. I spent the ride home teasing you,” Aaron told him.

  “Teasing?”

  Aaron leaned down and pressed their lips together. “Yeah, I was describing all the things I wanted to do with you.”

  “Yeah? Any of them involve me ravaging you for buying a disco ball?” Jordan threw back, kissing his neck.

  Chuckling, Aaron responded, “I’m surprised you’re so caught up on the disco ball. I thought you’d be more upset about the t-shirt.”

  “That’s cheap and there are many uses for shirts,” Jordan said.

  “Even a SpongeBob one?”

  “Mm-hmm, dishrag. Seems fitting.” Jordan nudged Aaron onto the couch and groaned as they struggled for places to fit their limbs. “We need bigger furniture.”

  “Wouldn’t fit in here,” Aaron answered. “Bedroom?”

  Jordan should ask again what he missed, and say no anyway because Aaron wasted money, but rational thought left him as his husband went back to work on his neck. “Okay, yes, bedroom,” he breathed, stumbling up.

  “You all right?” Aaron grabbed his arm to steady him.

  Jordan’s face heated as he balanced on his crutch. “Yes, thanks. I can’t wait to get this cast off.”

  “You’re doing better with one crutch instead of two. That’s an improvement,” Aaron commented.

  “Sure,” Jordan replied. Small consolations kept his spirits up in the long-term, but his lack of easy mobility still frustrated him. Aaron nipped behind Jordan’s ear, preventing his descent to self-pity. The crutch thudded to the floor, but Aaron caught him around the waist before Jordan’s balance could be compromised.

  “I got you,” Aaron whispered, easing Jordan onto the bed. He crawled to the other side of him so they faced one another. “You’re gorgeous.”

  Closing his eyes, Jordan shook his head. He was well aware of his scars. Despite not doubting Aaron’s attraction to him, he had no illusions of universality. “Your opinion is the only one that matters to me.”

  Aaron reached over and stroked Jordan’s cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Jordan slid his tongue along the crease of Aaron’s lips, unzipping them. As their tongues met, the urgency from the living room shot through them again and Jordan pinned Aaron to the bed.

  “Uh…” he began.

  Jordan cocked his brow at Aaron’s hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t… um… bottom,” Aaron told him.

  “Oh.” Jordan loosened his grip and released a breath. He considered asking why, but it didn’t make a difference. If Aaron said he couldn’t bottom, the reason could be physical or emotional, but the outcome remained the same.

  “Is that a problem?” Aaron asked. “It never has been.”

  Not prior to leaving for this last deployment. Up until then, Aaron may have shown a preference for receiving, but Jordan enjo
yed both. Yet, he had not bottomed since arriving home. It meant giving up more control when Jordan was just gaining it back. Which was a stupid way to think about it since they never attributed sex to power in their relationship. But if it did come down to power dynamics, wouldn’t his husband be the person to risk losing control with? Only for Angel. “We can try.”

  Aaron knelt between Jordan’s legs, shooting heat out of his slatted eyes. “No try. I have some tricks to ensure success.”

  “Oh, do you?” Jordan challenged.

  Licking his lips, Aaron replied, “I do.” He stripped his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

  “Mm, that’s a start.” Jordan slid his hands up and down Aaron’s bare torso.

  “Thank God that wasn’t all I had planned,” Aaron said, helping Jordan out of his shirt and pants. Jordan reached to unbutton Aaron’s jeans, but Aaron grabbed his hand and kissed it. “I’m not there yet.”

  The speed change made Jordan’s head spin. They weren’t going to have fast, possessive sex. Aaron seemed intent on taking his time. “Angel,” Jordan murmured.

  “Yes, my heart?” Aaron responded, embracing him.

  Jordan tightened his hold and buried his face in Aaron’s neck. The man retained his familiar scent after all these years. Jordan yearned to surround himself in the ultimate comfort he found there. “I need you,” he whispered.

  The heat of lust now mixed with that of love. “I’ve always needed you. Always will,” Aaron told him, trailing kissing from Jordan’s lip in a zigzag pattern to his navel.

  “Ugh!” Jordan bucked his hips toward Aaron in a plea for what he did not know.

  Aaron shimmied out of his jeans and grabbed the lube from the top of the nightstand. The two men drank in each other’s naked truth. After he brought Jordan’s legs to his chest, Aaron applied the lube to them both.

  They connected bodies, hearts, and minds in a way that Jordan had not known they were missing. But as they released their pleasure, he knew he wouldn’t give it up for anything again. Aaron cleaned them up and snuggled against Jordan. “What else did I miss? Besides teasing?” Jordan questioned and Aaron sighed. “See, now I think you were just trying to distract me with sex.”