THIRTY
“Dude, you act like you’ve never cracked eggs before.” Micah laughed at him from behind the pan of sizzling bacon.
“Amazingly, I have never cracked an egg before.” Chis held the cold sphere and tapped it against the side of the bowl as Micah had shown him but nothing happened. Especially not that fancy one-handed demonstration Micah had put on. Crack, crunch, perfect egg dropped in bowl. No, Chris had to fish out shell on his first attempt and the second egg didn’t want to crack.
“Just tap it again in the same spot and use both hands this time to open the shell.”
“It’s kind of gross to touch.” Chris complained. He didn’t care for slimy. That thought made him flush, yeah, that wasn’t exactly correct. He liked slimy well enough if it involved sex with Micah.
“Want to fry the dead pig? I’ll swap with you.” Micah laughed again and cursed at the bacon when it splattered grease onto his hand. “Son of a bitch.”
“Well, when you put it that way, makes me want to join PETA and become a vegetarian, if not a full out vegan.” Chris managed to get two more eggs mostly in the bowl. He took the fork and broke the yolks and whipped them around until it was yellow and gloopy looking.
“I think there’s some lettuce in the fridge. Dude, we need Gibbs here. Why didn’t you bring Gibbs when you moved up?” Micah lifted the bacon out of the pan and set the grease off the burner. “You about done with that?” He set a second skillet on the burner and started butter melting. “I think the toast is up. And get us something to drink.”
“That I can do.” Chris gladly handed over the half scrambled egg concoction and looked through the cupboards for glasses. “I don’t like this kitchen. I wish we could have brought the estate kitchen with us.”
“You mean the kitchen you never went into?” Micah had the eggs in the skillet and the toast out of the toaster and on the plates. “Orange juice, if you don’t mind?”
Chris poured two glasses and picked a slice of bacon off the plate while he waited for dinner. “I still liked that kitchen. This one is too small. All of this house is too small. I don’t like it.”
“My apartment in California is smaller than this kitchen.” Micah plated the eggs and slapped at Chris’s hand when he reached for another slice of bacon. “Wait.”
“I’m starving.” Chris aimed a pout and flashed puppy dog eyes, but Micah ignored him.
“Sex makes you hungry. But mind your manners and wait.”
“Fine.” Chris went to the fridge to look for jelly and came back with a bowl of fruit when he didn’t find any. “Strawberries?”
“Sure.” Micah set the plates over the island to the bar stools. “Now you can eat.”
“Oh, thank you, Micah, sir. I am ever so much in your debt for feeding me…after fucking me until I couldn’t move.” Chris spooned strawberries onto his plate and before Micah could even sit down he inhaled pretty much everything.
“Jesus, God, Chris, slow down so you don’t choke.” Micah laughed a third time and bit into a piece of bacon. The amused grin on his face stopped Chris cold and all he could do was stare.
Micah stopped smiling and looked behind him. “What? Do I have something on my face or something? Dude, you look like you see a ghost…” He stopped joking and reached for Chris, his face serious now. “Chris, what? Seriously, tell me? Are you hurting?”
Chris shook his head. He couldn’t explain it. He finished chewing the food in his mouth and swallowed. Micah sat looking at him instead of eating. Too much worry on his face.
“I’m sorry.” Chris chugged a swallow of juice and tried to play it off. “You were smiling. You’ve smiled and laughed and joked all evening. I just…I don’t know. I love seeing you smile. You don’t smile enough.”
“Oh,” Micah said. He exhaled sharply after and poked at his eggs. “I guess maybe I forgot how for a long time. You make me happy. I guess. Don’t know. Maybe I forgot to be…” he shoved the food in his mouth and chewed. Chris thought he’d dropped the subject and went back to his own meal. Micah didn’t take another bite he simply sat there staring at his plate.
“I wasn’t a nice person for a long time. I was an angry kid when I went into the service. I came out an angry Marine. I channeled that anger into getting though college and into the Marshals. I had to go through the LAPD to get there. Nothing fun about that. My dad died of cancer. Shit happened that you already know about. My mom remarried while I was hiding in California. The clincher is she married my damned commanding officer. I didn’t even know he knew my mother. So much shit to wade through. So I didn’t. I hid and I let it all become one big shit storm in my head.”
Chris absorbed that. Micah wasn’t much older than him. He’d been to war and Chris had never been in his own damned kitchen. “I must seem like some kind of asshole to you.”
“Why would you say that?” Micah choked on the bite of toast. “I get you, Chris. Nothing about your life…damn, man, you’ve been through some shit. I can’t even begin to know what it’s like to deal with what you’ve gone through. I’m just, I don’t know…happy you’re coming out the other side of it. I guess.”
Chris pushed his food around on his plate. His appetite gone now that he’d brought up stuff that should have been left alone. “Your aunt? She’s the reason you speak sign? I don’t want to pry, but what’s wrong with her?”
“Down Syndrome.” Micah shrugged. “She’s not much older than me. Six years. We grew up together. She was more like my older sister than my aunt.”
“So she was born deaf?” It seemed to be a safer topic.
“No. Well, not completely. She was partially deaf in one ear, but when she was around fifteen, she went completely deaf. It had been coming. My grandparents knew she was losing her hearing. They were older and I guess they decided they didn’t want to spend what was left of their lives dealing with a deaf Downs kid and were going to put her in a group home. My mom fought to get custody of her about that time. I was nine or so. Rhea was five, maybe still four but not far off it and Chad was a year younger than her. So my mom took in a teenager who was basically a five year old and always would be. She knew some sign. But no one could talk to her. She was lost, and I was scared to death of her. That’s my guilty secret. I was terrified of my aunt who’d never caused me any harm.”
“But she seems fine now. I don’t get it? I mean besides the little girl behavior. I got that. She’s adjusted. They let her go around on her own. She’s sweet. We talked a lot. She has a serious My Little Pony fetish going on.” Chris smiled. “I played ponies with her it made her happy.”
“We played a lot of pony and Care Bears. Oh hell, those bears. Hate those fucking bears.” Micah smiled again, this time from the memory. “She wasn’t a horrible person. She was really sweet. When she went deaf she became a different person. Trapped in her mind with no way to communicate besides basic commands like a dog. Sit Becca, stay Becca. So I went to the library and checked out everything I could find on sign language and that summer we learned it together. I’d hold up a toy and signed the word until all of them got it right. She’s still really basic. But she gets her point across.”
“But?” Chris sensed he wasn’t telling him everything. “You left home because of her didn’t you?”
Micah sighed, his shoulders slumped. “Not completely no, but yeah. Because of her, my parents had to work long hours. Her medical bills. Her daycare. I was the oldest and I ended up being the free babysitter when they had to work holidays and summers were spent looking after all of them. People thought she was my little sister when she was twenty years old. I had to stay home and play girl toys instead of going out with my friends. I was a bastard those last couple of years. I…like I said, I wasn’t a nice person for a long time.”
Chris regretted bringing up the subject. “Why are you with me? It’s almost the same thing.”
Micah looked startled. Something gritty crackled in his gaze when he looked at Chris. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? I’m not a mental five-year-old but I’m not like other people my age. I’m emotionally stunted and autistic and sometimes I kill people because I can’t control my temper.” Chris didn’t dare look at him now. He didn’t want to see the truth of that in his eyes.
“Because I love you. Because you’re—”
“Because I’m beautiful? You keep telling me that. But is that all I am to you? I love you so much but I don’t want to be just this pretty man to you. Or this...redemption for what you think were mistakes you made in your teens.” Five minutes ago Micah was smiling and he was in love and now everything had ended. Chris wished he’d never asked. He wished they could go back. But it would always be there, sitting at the back of his mind, that Micah was only with him because he was pretty and he felt sorry for him.
Micah didn’t answer. He looked at the floor, his right shoulder drooping a little more than his left. He reached up to massage the wound through his shirt. He was in pain and Chris was shitting all over him. Somehow things never changed no matter how hard he tried.
“You are beautiful, Chris.” Micah looked at him finally. There were tears in his eyes. “And smart. Seriously smart. And funny. And bossy. And you can cuss like a Marine. Your art is incredible. Your heart is huge. Yeah, you’re a big kid sometimes. But maybe I need that. I’ve been a grown-up for as long as I can remember. I’ve had to cook and clean and take care of little kids and I never really got to be a kid. You made me feel something besides my own selfish, self-centered bullshit. You made me smile. Maybe instead of thinking you’re broken and needing fixing…maybe I’m broken too. And maybe while I was trying to fix you…maybe you fixed me. Maybe neither one of us is fixed but we can’t see the broken parts anymore. Maybe that’s what love is…looking past the broken parts to the parts underneath that are whole and still work. So I think you’re beautiful? Because you are beautiful and no one has ever told you that before. I don’t love you because you’re beautiful. Your beauty scares the hell out of me. Makes me feel unworthy, makes me feel as if I’m someone you’re settling for until you find another person as beautiful and…shit, don’t cry.”
“Why not? You’re crying. Do you have the market cornered on crying and being an ass and trying to drive away the best thing that ever happened to you?” Chris wiped his eyes but the tears didn’t stop. “I don’t cry. I never cry. I am a stone cold motherfucker with no feelings and you made me fucking cry. How could you? How could you think that I’d walk away from you when you’re the best thing…I’m not heartless. I don’t just give my love to anyone. I didn’t want to give it to you, but you crawled under my skin, and you didn’t judge, me and I liked you there. I want you there, you fucking asshole.” Chris shouted at him and Micah sat there grinning at him like it was the funniest damned thing in the world. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because you make me happy. So fuck you asshole and eat your damned food.” Micah shoved his plate in front of him and kissed him on the cheek. “And stop starting shit when there’s no need to start shit.”
“I didn’t start anything. I just asked you why you were smiling.”
“And I just answered you so eat. We’ll find something else to fight about later. But eat the goddamned bacon that burnt me or I will.” Micah reached for his bacon but the door leading down to the basement garage opened and all of the happy in the entire world escaped while it still could. “Hey, Sam, Gideon. I was wondering if you two stopped off for a little bit of—”
“What’s wrong?” Chris didn’t cut him off. Micah’s smile faded at the same time Chris felt—cold. He was really cold. And cold like that wasn’t from the weather. “There’s something wrong. I can smell it.”
“I’m with Chris. We left the two of you at the courthouse hours ago and…yeah what’s wrong?” Micah was by his side while Sam stood there looking very pale, and Gideon had that pinched look he usually got when he had something odious to do. Which was anything regarding Kit.
Chris reached for Micah’s hand and waited for Sam to take off his coat. They were both too quiet and too, conspiratorial.
“Have you eaten?” Sam said avoiding the question. “Of course you’ve eaten. Are eating. I’m sorry. This can wait.”
“No, Sam, it can’t wait. He has to know.” David stepped around Sam and walked into the kitchen passing the cooking area to find the liquor cabinet. He poured a shot of whiskey and downed it before turning back to them. “Have you watched the news yet?”
“No. We came home and…” Micah looked guilty when he lied. “Took a nap. It was a rough morning. Chris…my…doctor’s orders were to rest. We rested.”
“Doesn’t matter. Chris isn’t watching the news anyway.” Sam strode past them and took the whiskey. He didn’t bother with a glass, he tipped the bottle back. When he turned back to face them he had the rigid stick up his ass look back in place. Chris wondered how much Sam had to drink to get him through his day if that’s how he managed that look. “Jonathon Burke was found dead in the men’s room about an hour after you left. He hanged himself with his necktie.”
Chris reached for the island counter top and missed. Micah held him up and asked the hard questions Chris couldn’t think to ask. “Did he say or do anything before? Did he talk to anyone? Did anyone help him? Why did it take an hour to discover him? Where were his guards? What happens now?”
Sam brought the bottle to the island and pulled up a stool. He took Chris’s empty juice glass and poured him a small amount. Chris drank it down. He didn’t even ask why he needed it. He leaned against Micah. His skin crawled wanting to draw up too tight. He blinked away the tunnel vision that usually came before…before. He knew his triggers. This was a trigger. “Where’s Kady? Does she know?”
“That’s the first time you’ve called her Kady since the night Micah was shot,” Sam said offering him another shot before pouring a half a tumbler for himself. Chris declined. One was enough to chase away the deep bone chill.
“He was her father. She must be—”
“Devastated,” David finished for him. “She’s with Lydia. Miranda is with her. She saw it on the news before we could get word to them.”
“So it’s over then? No more court? No more trials? No more lawyers? We can go home?” Chris was optimistic. He didn’t want to know any more than that. The guy who helped murder his parents and had tried to murder his lover was dead. Nothing else mattered.
“It’s over. He left a suicide note. I wouldn’t call it a suicide note, more like a letter of confession. He was meeting with his lawyers. He wrote the confession and he excused himself to the restroom. The guards were right outside. When he didn’t come back out they went in but it was too late. He was kneeling in the stall. His neck tie tied around the hinge that held the door to the wall. He fell forward and that was it. It’s disturbing at how easy it is to commit suicide.” Sam was half in the bottle now. David took the bottle and poured the rest down the drain.
“He doesn’t need to know any of this,” David quietly scolded the one person who’d always protected him from the harsh realities of the world. They’d somehow switched positions, the good guy becoming the bad guy and the bad guy…Chris wasn’t sure exactly who was whom anymore.
“He needs to know why? He’s grown, David. He has the memories of the how but not the whys, he deserves to know why.” Sam looked to Micah as if asking for permission. “You know he does. You know what it does to a person to not know why.”
“I know. But it’s his choice if he wants to revisit that nightmare. Ask him not me.” Micah was his good guy now. The one who made the decisions for him to make the decisions. At least someone thought to ask him instead of keeping him in the damned dark.
“I know so much already. I just don’t know what’s real. I know she was pregnant again. I know that my…the one who took care of me loathed my mother. I suspect, looking back that he was in love with my father. I don’t know how the second one fits in other than screwing my mother. I know they fought after they killed my parents. About me not being James’s son. Gavin was that his name? The one who took care of me? He loved me right up until that moment and then he hated me. I ran from him. Not the other one. I was running from the one I trusted. And he’s the one that tried to…” Chris couldn’t piece it all together. Maybe he didn’t want to know more than that. “Kady’s my sister. She was there. We played dress up and cars and he talked about how much we looked alike. How funny it was that their children should look so much alike. He thought I was his. Gavin not the one…not Jonathon. Why did he think I was his?”
“Because Gavin had built this fantasy that he was James’s true love and that he would divorce Dinah and since Dinah never visited you in the nursery or had any interest in you that they could be a family.” David supplied the answer. “The only problem was, James really did love Dinah. He just loved to fuck the nanny as well. James never could turn down a pretty face, no matter the equipment. Hell, I wouldn’t even call him bisexual. He was the if it moved screw it until it didn’t move type.”
“And that’s not your philosophy as well?” Chris asked his uncle who actually laughed.
“Only women, Christopher.” David leaned against the refrigerator. “I loved James with all of my heart and soul. If I ever had a true love in my life it was James. If I had even once thought about sex with him maybe he would never have married my sister. I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if James married her because she was so much like me. And Dinah is…was exactly like me. She loved James, but James wasn’t enough for her. She was sleeping with her driver until the old man fired him. That’s when they hired Gavin. He was their driver. And according to Jonathon he’d swap out on days Gavin couldn’t show up. No one ever knew there were two of them. Except Dinah. James never knew. Not until that night when you came running in with Gavin on your heels. And Gavin didn’t know that Jonathon was sleeping with Dinah. James knew, James was sleeping with both of them but thought…I am completely confused right now.” David went back to the liquor cabinet and pulled down the vodka.
Sam picked up where he left off. “James was having an affair with Gavin. Dinah was having an affair with Jonathon. James knew she was sleeping with Jonathon. He knew that Jonathon fathered his child. Hell, he helped pick him when they decided to go that route. They had the same hair color and similar eye color as James. No one would know you weren’t James’s son. Reggie knew. They all knew. Except Gavin. And James thought Gavin and Jonathon was the same person. That night, James decided to join in and Jonathon wasn’t going to do anything to piss off his benefactors. He didn’t like James and he wasn’t, gay or bi. Dinah hadn’t told them she was pregnant yet. After you came in, that’s when it all went to hell. She told them she was pregnant. And Gavin saw his fantasy of being with James as just that, and he shot them. Both of them.”
As if they’d rehearsed the whole speech, David took over, “It was Jonathon who grabbed you and ran. He put you in his car that he’d hidden in the garage. He wasn’t supposed to be there. But he came because Dinah wanted to see her daughter. He was afraid that she and James were going to try and take her away from him. He’d blackmailed them both after she discovered she was having twins. They hid the twins from everyone and Jonathon got the second born and a million dollars for his services and his silence. They had an Auberon heir. No one the wiser. But she could never get over giving up her daughter to keep that secret.” David drained the glass and went for a second.
“Maybe I should take that from you and pour it down the drain.” Sam didn’t slur a single word. But he did speak louder than his usual tone.
“It’s been a bitch of a day. I might slug you, you sanctimonious old…”
“Call me a queer and I’ll kick your ass back to Chicago.” Sam stood up then. He swayed a bit. “I was his bodyguard for thirty years. I’m not the damned help you think you can walk all over. I was military intelligence during Vietnam. I was CIA and I was his partner. I would have been more than that if times were different.”
“Simmer down, GI Joe. Wasn’t going to call you anything…maybe I was.” David had the sense to look apologetic. “You kicked my ass enough when I was a kid, mostly for messing around with the maids. I should have listened to you about that. Of course then we wouldn’t have Spencer.” David righted the old man and put him back on the bar stool sitting beside him this time. “I guess we’re all that’s left of two families. We have the kids. Four of them now. A niece. Damn. Why’d she hide that? I can’t wrap my head around that.”
“Same reason you hid Dallas and Spencer from her. Rich people are strange. With your ideals of class and…fuck, acknowledge Spencer as the oldest and Dallas as the second. It’s not like you have any legitimate children. And Kady is…” Sam reached for the bacon plate and took a piece.
“My sister.” Chris supplied the end of that thought. “She’s my sister. My mother’s daughter. We’ll make it right by her.”
Sam shook his head. “She can’t be your twin. The Auberons will be out for blood if they found out. No, she’ll have to be like Lydia. The secret daughter.”
“There are no Auberon’s left.” Chris felt his blood boiling at that suggestion.
“There are. Distant relations to be sure, but if they ever get the idea that you aren’t James’s child there will be serious shit to deal with. Reginald did his best to make sure his will was ironclad. He gave away most of his holdings to the closer relatives to keep them from looking too deeply. He made you his legal heir in every way possible because he didn’t care that you weren’t James’s child. You were his grandson and that’s all that mattered. But Kady…she’s…”
“My sister’s daughter. No matter what else. She gets Dinah’s share of the estate when I’m gone. It was to go to Kit. But now.”
“It should go to the four of them, equally.” Sam’s voice was growing louder as the liquor in his system took over.
“I have the Auberon money. And my own money. I don’t need another inheritance. Kady gets what would be mine. And Spencer and Dallas the other…hell, I’ll make a will. They’ll all be my heirs. I’m not ever going to have children. Spencer has the first…” He stopped talking when the very idea of what they were discussing hit him. “I’m not going to ever have children and we’re talking about dying and wills and there’s something wrong with you people. It’s not about the damned money. They’re people. Kids. Who didn’t have parents. And you’re all fine with that. Intrigue and…why did he kill himself?”
Neither Sam nor David would look his way. Kit held onto Micah with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. “Tell me. You both know. You said he left a letter. What did he say? Was it because of me?”
Sam still wouldn’t look at him. He nodded. “Yes, Kit, it was because of you. But not the way you think.”
“Do I want to know?” Chris dropped Micah’s hand and stood up to his full height. He didn’t need anyone to lean on.
David sighed and shook his head, but that didn’t stop Sam. “He said in the letter that watching you on the stand and seeing what you’d become was the reason. He’d spent most of the last eighteen years on the run thinking you would tell everyone the truth. He knew you were safe. He followed you to the convenience store. And then he fled taking the knife you killed Gavin with and Kady and he disappeared.
“He married the woman he’d been dating before your mother came back into his life and took her last name. He left Kady with her and disappeared. He went to Canada. Found work in small towns and stayed out of touch. He grew bitter and angry. When he came back and found that he’d never been connected with the murders that made it worse. Like he’d given up his life for nothing. And then he saw you struggling to speak in the courtroom today. He found out you had no memories. That you’d been traumatized your whole life. That you’d lost more than he ever would. And he’d caused that. Until then you weren’t real to him. You weren’t his son. You were that kid who took his life away. When you lost the ability to speak on the stand and Micah translated for you. He realized that the only person who was destroyed that night was you. I guess he couldn’t live with that. He said he didn’t want to put you through a trial. And that he was sorry for everything.”
The dark swirled around him calling his name. He didn’t listen. “Well, okay. That’s okay. Okay. Excuse me.” He didn’t wait for permission. He didn’t look for help. He just wanted to be alone. He turned and walked out the door the two men had left open and down the stairs. He didn’t remember any stairs leading to his room. But he kept walking.
When he stopped, he was standing beside a car. The low slung body nothing like the cars he’d ridden in all of his life.
“There’s no backseat,” he said to the man who silently followed him into the garage.
“No, there isn’t,” Micah said softly.
“I’ve never been in the front of a car,” Chris said not taking his eyes off his reflection in the closed window.
“That’s easily fixable.” Micah opened the door and Chris sat in the passenger seat.
He traced his hands across the leather upholstery. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven,” Micah said in that cautious way that made Chris ache inside.
“Can you drive? I mean did the doctors say it was okay for you to drive?”
“As long as I’m not taking pain meds, they released me to light duty. I assume driving is part of that.” Micah’s voice sounded far away. “Would you like to go for a ride?”
Chris nodded. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the city after dark. Get some fresh air.”
Micah handed him a pair of shoes and his blue hoodie jacket. “If you put these on. The heat doesn’t work well.” Gloves and an oversized hat came next. Chris put them all on. “Buckle up,” Micah said and closed his door.
Chris buckled up and pushed down the lock. Micah climbed into the driver seat as the garage door came open and the world outside came inside. Music played on the tinny old speakers. Chris held on to the seat as the car went out into the world. He was scared. Really scared. But the man sitting beside him wasn’t. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”
“Just out. I’ve never been out.” Chris released the breath he’d been holding since the kitchen. The world outside passed by his window. Some of it a blur. Most of it was decorated with Christmas lights. Snow fell quietly dusting the windshield.
“I’ll drive until you tell me it’s time to go home,” Micah said as he changed gears and picked up speed. “I love driving at Christmas. The snow is beautiful.”
“It is,” Chris agreed. But he couldn’t see anything but Beastly. He couldn’t take his eyes off Micah as the lights from passing cars lit up his face. He talked to Chris as he drove. Micah’s voice the light in the dark that wanted to take him away. He focused on the lights playing over Micah’s face and his quiet voice and let the car and the music and the man make him forget everything that hurt. “Very beautiful,” he said after some time. “I want to go someplace beautiful. Is there any place like that?”
“I know a few places.” Micah took his hand. “Just tell me if you see someplace first. We’ll stop when you tell me too.”
“Just drive. I just want to drive.” Chris squeezed his fingers and watched as the city disappeared into the velvety dark and stars took the place of Christmas lights. The heater really didn’t work well, but Chris didn’t care. Micah let his hand go to change gears and took it back when the gears didn’t need his attention. Chris let the world swallow him. He knew Micah was there. And that he had a hand to hold when he needed it. But he would be fine when he didn’t have anything to hold. He would be fine. There was so much to see. So much he’d never seen. “I want to see it all. Is that okay?”
“We’ll have to sleep sometime.” Micah’s mouth twitched into a smile. He didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead but he held Chris’s hand. “And eat.”
“And make love.”
“That too. Sleep, eat, make love, drive. Sounds good to me.” Chris loved the sound of Micah’s laugh. He could curl up in Micah and never leave. “Sounds like a good life.”
“It does,” Micah’s voice held a smile. The dark hid his face, but Chris knew he was there. With the stars and the moon and the world. And that sounded just fine to him. As long as Micah was with him, he could do anything. Go anywhere. Be anyone. He could finally just be, and that’s all that mattered anymore.
“Yes. It does.”