Chapter Nine
“Ready?” Rafa asked. “The car will be here soon.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Shane stared at his medium hard-shell suitcase, open on the bed, his clothes rolled neatly inside, toiletries and shaving kit tucked into the corners. Ready to spend three nights on a train with your parents. Yep. Well, he was as ready as he’d ever be, so he zipped the suitcase closed.
He turned to where Rafa leaned against the doorjamb, shoulders slumped, eyes on the floor. His button-down was crisp and ironed, tucked into his slacks, and hair gelled. He’d seemed so relaxed when they’d gone to bed, but in the light of day…
There would undoubtedly be photographers at the train station, and Shane understood why Rafa was driven to wear his old White House costume. It still set Shane’s teeth on edge.
Even after Camila’s performance the night before, Rafa wanted to please her. Shane supposed it was an innate need in most people. Sure, he’d wanted to please his parents—make them proud too. And he had.
The grief that would never go away panged dully. His parents had been generous and kind, not like that bi—
He cut off the train of thought. She was Rafa’s mother, and it wouldn’t do any good to resent her. Even if she is a bitch. Of course he’d shaved and dressed sharply himself, so who was he to talk? If he didn’t care what the Castillos thought, why didn’t he just wear shorts and flip-flops?
“You don’t have to come,” Rafa said quietly.
“What? Of course I’m coming.” He went for levity. “Don’t want to give your parents the chance to talk you around to their way of thinking.”
But Rafa didn’t laugh. Instead, he blinked, jerking his chin back. He pushed off the doorframe. “You think they could convince me? You don’t think I can stand up to them?”
Shit. “No, of course you can. Sorry. It was a bad joke, baby.” Shane stepped close and ran his palms up and down Rafa’s rigid arms, the sleeves of his blue shirt silky.
“Maybe you shouldn’t call me that.” Rafa dropped his eyes again.
“Oh.” Shane struggled to get the right read on the situation. “Is it… Do you not like it? That I call you ‘baby’?” He had to admit he’d miss it, but obviously if it bothered Rafa, he’d stop. “You should have told me ages ago. I’m sorry.”
Rafa sighed loudly, shaking his head. He met Shane’s gaze. “I do like it. But maybe I shouldn’t?”
“How does it make you feel? When I call you that?”
A little smile lifted Rafa’s full, beautiful lips. “Makes me feel safe. Cared-for. Loved.”
Shane traced a finger over the freckles dotting Rafa’s nose. “Good. Because I will always love you. Protect you. When you’re forty-five, you’ll still be my baby.”
Rafa captured Shane’s finger and kissed the tip, then threaded their fingers together. “I like being your baby. But still your partner.”
“Absolutely. We’re equals, no matter what.”
Rafa looked up at him imploringly. “So you know you can tell me anything. No matter what it is. If anything’s bothering you…”
“Nothing’s bothering me,” he automatically answered, guilt tugging immediately. He dropped his gaze to Rafa’s chin before forcing his eyes up. There was no bruise or reddening at all from where his fingers had made contact—he’d checked carefully that morning while Rafa still slept—but he still hated it had happened at all. Despised his weakness. The inquest was over—there was no reason to still be having the fucking nightmares.
Shane forced a chuckle. “Well, obviously I’m not too thrilled with your mother at the moment.”
Rafa huffed out a half-laugh. “Me either.” Then he raised Shane’s hand and kissed the back of it. “But you can always talk to me. About anything. Even if it’s how much of a bitch my mother can be.”
Shane hesitated. Maybe he should just confess about his nightmares. What, tell him how I see him bloody and beaten? How I see him in that metal box? How I see him dead? What good will that do? The nightmare images filled his mind, and an icy hand squeezed his heart. What if telling the truth about the nightmares sparked bad dreams for Rafa too?
Rafa was right—they were partners. Still, the urge to protect him above all else warred with the desire to tell the truth. He couldn’t bear it if unloading his crap ended up hurting him. Rafa was the one who’d been kidnapped, who’d been shoved in that box. Shane had been doing his job. He should be able to let it all go and move past it.
A car honked, and they both jerked. Forcing a smile, Shane stepped back, and Rafa let go of his hand. Shane managed a light tone as he reached for his suitcase. “Well, our journey awaits. And I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say about your mother soon enough.”
Rafa laughed and gave him a kiss. “I’m sure we both will.” His smile faded.
“Don’t worry, baby. We’ve got this.”
When they arrived at the platform, Hernandez greeted them briskly, leading them past the clusters of other passengers, who stared and whispered. A man in the center of the wide platform played a folky Australian song on a guitar, and waiters circulated with trays of sparkling water and bite-sized appetizers.
“You vetted the other passengers?” Shane asked. He kept close to Rafa, eyeing the clusters of people and looking for threats.
Hernandez glared. “Of course. And we don’t need your input.”
It was fair enough—she knew how to do her job. He said, “Sorry. Old habits and all that.”
Hernandez ignored the apology and soon they joined the Castillos, who clapped politely as the performer finished a song. Aside from Matthew, of course. His bent arm was immobilized against his stomach, and he didn’t crack a smile. Shane inventoried the dark circles under his eyes, the barely combed hair, and grayish pallor. Hungover? Or truly in that much pain? The jury was out.
With hundreds of eyes on them, it was time for a show. Castillo hugged Rafa, as did Camila, and Matthew managed a smile and laugh about something Rafa said. Putting on his own smile, Shane extended his hand to Rafa’s father and said, “Good to see you again.”
Castillo took his hand firmly. “It is, Shane.”
Then he offered his hand to Camila, who had no choice but to take it. Her palm was cool and dry, and she shook his hand steadily, tilting her head and smiling. “So wonderful to see you. We weren’t sure if you were still able to make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he answered honestly. As much as part of me would love to.
Hernandez, who’d been talking to a young woman in a navy uniform skirt and jacket, striped blouse, and brown outback-style hat, approached. “We’re ready to board. We’ve swept the entire train, and we’re doing the cabins now. We’ll do Matthew and Rafael’s too.”
“Wait, what?” Rafa frowned. “I’m sharing a cabin with Shane.”
Still smiling, Camila quietly said, “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. You’re not married. You and Matthew are sharing a cabin. Mr. Kendrick will have his own.”
Rafa’s jaw clenched. “Are you shitting me?”
With a broad smile for the onlookers, Rafa’s father murmured, “Watch your language. Christian and Hadley never shared a room at the White House or on any of our trips. Not until they were married. If it was Matthew and a girlfriend, or your sister and a boyfriend, they wouldn’t be rooming together either. This is how it goes.”
While on one hand it was a sham since he and Rafa lived together, Shane could understand keeping up appearances in an official capacity. Although the Castillos weren’t technically on a diplomatic visit, they might as well have been. Shane said, “Of course. That’s fine.”
Rafa looked like he wanted to argue as they boarded the train and followed into a lounge area with benches under the windows. There were armchairs upholstered in shiny taupe leather and round gold-rimmed cocktail tables positioned throughout the train car.
Shane held back and whispered right into Rafa’s ear, “We’ll just have to get creative. It’ll be fun.” Rafa gave him a tight-lipped smile, still tense.
“Why don’t we get everyone settled in their cabins,” the young woman from the railway announced, after first giving them a spiel on the Indian Pacific’s history of traveling between Sydney and Perth and back again since 1970 or something. Shane barely heard her as he rubbed his hand soothingly on Rafa’s back, disappointed that Rafa’s pinched expression and angry eyes didn’t soften.
Shane followed as they all trouped through the passageways toward the cabins. A male agent trailed Rafa and Matthew, and Shane wondered how many extra bodies they had on duty. He’d counted twenty-six cars on the platform, which was a challenging number to control. Even though Matthew and Rafa weren’t under protection now, he appreciated that Hernandez wasn’t taking any chances.
The young woman leading them opened a door between carriages, and they followed through into a narrow corridor along the right side. Shane was surprised at the heft of the door as he held it open for the agent on their tail, who took hold of it without a flicker of his flat expression.
As another staff member took Rafa’s parents into their cabin, the woman stopped by a door and spoke to Rafa and Matthew. “We have ten platinum cabins, and you’ll have a twin. You can see your luggage is inside, and there are refreshments. Right now, the cabin is configured in its daytime setting. While you’re at dinner, we’ll convert the seats into your luxurious beds. I hope you’ll be comfortable. My name’s Stephanie. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.” She smiled brightly, her gaze catching on Matthew’s. Adjusting her hat, she motioned them inside.
Shane stayed in the doorway as she went over the features. The wood-paneled cabin had a wide window on the far side, and an interior window on the corridor as well. Both windows had blinds that were currently open. Shane didn’t like that there was glass access to the corridor, but…
It’s fine. The Service did their job. It’s not yours anymore.
Stephanie said, “The spacious en-suite toilet is to your left. There’s a full shower and everything you could need. And you see the cabin has a movable table, two ottomans, and a writing desk by the window. This wood is Tasmanian Myrtle, and the carpet was made in…”
Shane tuned out Stephanie. “Spacious” was a bit of a stretch, but the cabin was well-appointed, and the wood gleamed. When the chairs were converted down into beds, there would barely be a foot between them, but he supposed that was to be expected on a train.
Stephanie said, “Again, please let us know if you have any needs.”
“Where’s Shane’s cabin?” Rafa asked. “Next door?”
Her smile faltered momentarily. “Well, your parents and their staff are in the other platinum cabins. But we have a lovely gold-standard single for you, Mr. Kendrick! I’ll show it to you now.”
“That’s fine,” Shane said. “I’m sure it will be very nice.”
Rafa looked like he wanted to say more, but bit his tongue. Shane gave him a wink and smile before following Stephanie back through the lounge area.
She said, “Your party will have private use of all our platinum lounges and the dining car. All our other passengers are gold class and won’t be in this part of the train. Well, aside from you, of course. How are you enjoying Australia, Mr. Kendrick?”
They made small talk as she led him through the narrow side corridors of the train past gold cabins, double sets of heavy doors at the ends of each car. Shane smiled politely and nodded whenever they passed other passengers. “It’s a bit of a hike,” Stephanie said apologetically as she opened another set of doors. “But we only have one car of single cabins. Here we are.”
They passed a little staff office on the left, and then the hallway weaved through the center of the car instead of being on the left or right side beside cabins. The walls were rounded, the corridor undulating, single berths on both sides. From the head of the car, Shane couldn’t see the end thanks to the curving passageway.
That made him uneasy, and he reminded himself again that there was nothing to worry about. Besides, Rafa would be safe with the agents standing guard in the platinum cabin.
They passed three toilets on the right, and then Stephanie stopped at the fifth cabin on the left. “Here we go.” The door was open, and she stepped farther down the hall to give him a view, since Shane soon realized there wasn’t really enough room for both of them inside.
The cabin’s wood paneling wasn’t quite as lustrous, and the seating upholstery was a little worn around the edges, but it was very clean and the window was wide. The cabin was about seven feet long and four and a half wide. There was a chair and table under the window, and a very narrow cupboard just to the right of the door. To the left, there was a sink that could be folded down.
Stephanie said, “We passed by the toilets, and the shower stalls are at the very end of the car.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Although I’m sure you could use your boyfriend’s shower.” Then she flushed, as if afraid she’d said too much.
Shane smiled. “I’m sure I can. Thank you very much for your help.”
“You’ll be able to find your way back?”
“I’m sure I will. Really only two ways to go on a train.”
She laughed. “Right, yes. Well, your suitcase is there. It’s a little large for a single berth, but we checked, and it will slide under the bed. Usually we make you bring your carry-on and stow bigger items in the luggage car.”
“I appreciate the consideration.”
“Oh, of course! And watch your block if you open that upper cupboard.” At his frown, she added, “Your head, I mean. You’re tall, so.” She glanced down the hall the way they’d come, and her eyes went wide. “Oh! I… Hello, Mr. Castillo.”
“Please, call me Ramon.” Rafa’s father appeared, tailed by two agents who had to stand one after the other in the narrow, curving passageway. “And you are?”
Stephanie told him her name and Castillo asked her a few polite questions about herself, listening as if he truly wanted to know more about her outback hometown of Emerald, Queensland. Shane stood there in his cabin with a fixed smile, dread filling him. He hadn’t counted on chatting with Rafa’s father one-on-one.
Better get used to it.
Finally, Stephanie went back to work, and Castillo murmured something to his agents before entering the cabin. Shane was already in the corner, and they quickly realized that to close the door, Castillo would have to squeeze close to him to get the clearance behind. They both smiled grimly, barely an inch between them.
Not awkward at all. Nope.
Once the door was shut, Castillo stepped back so there was a foot or so separating them. He cleared his throat. “I hope Rafa wasn’t too upset after we left.”
“He was. We both were, but we worked through it.” Shane focused on keeping his face impassive as flashes of memory danced through his head. He banished the thoughts of the amazing sex.
“Good. I must apologize again for my wife’s behavior. She’d had too much to drink.”
“Yes, she’s usually much better at hiding her true feelings. In vino veritas, as they say.” The train had started moving, slowly rumbling out of the station.
He grimaced. “Indeed. But as it seems you’re not going anywhere, she’ll have to accept your relationship with our son. As I’m trying very hard to do. I think you are a good man, despite your inappropriate actions while you guarded Rafa.” He raised a hand. “And we must move forward at this point. I’m glad you came on this trip. I don’t know if we can be friends, as such, but…”
“Mr. Castillo—”
“Please. Call me Ramon if I’m to call you Shane. Let us get comfortable with that much, at least.”
Shane nodded. “Ramon, I appreciate the apology. As I said last night, I understand why this is difficult for you and your wife to accept. Why I’m difficult to accept. But yes, we must move forward. For Rafa’s sake. He loves you both very much, and it hurts him that you don’t support his choices. He—” Shane stopped himself. Was he saying too much?
“What?” Rafa’s father frowned. “Please, I want to hear what you have to say.”
“For years, he hid who he really was. He tried to be the perfect son to avoid detection. To gain your approval. He still wants that approval now. Desperately.”
Mouth turning down, Castillo—Ramon—nodded and rubbed his face. In that moment without his usual politician’s smile, he looked damn tired. “I don’t want my son to be hurt. Neither does Camila, which I know might be hard to believe.” He smiled ruefully. “I love my wife with all my heart, but she can become…entrenched in her viewpoints. She’s certain you’re the one who will hurt Rafael. I trust you’ll take great pleasure in proving her wrong.”
Shane had to smile. “I’ll do my best.”
“Very good.” Ramon extended his hand, and Shane took it. “You’ll join us in the lounge shortly? We can drink a toast to moving forward.”
He nodded, and they had to do the shimmying dance again to open the cabin door, both of them laughing awkwardly. Ramon took his leave, and Shane lowered himself into the comfy, padded chair, watching buildings flick by. His phone buzzed, and he smiled when he saw Darnell had sent a voice message.
He listened to Darnell talk for a few minutes, the recording taken as he drove home from work, or more accurately crawled due to the traffic he complained about. Darnell opened up some about his case and what a strain it was causing. He was thinking about actually seeing a shrink, which took Shane by surprise. Then he added that Henry thought it was a good idea, and Shane smiled to himself.
“I can’t help but feel, you know. Weak, I guess? Which is macho bullshit. But I know you’ll feel me on this. How are the nightmares?”
Shane wanted to respond and say everything was great and there was nothing to worry about. But it felt too disloyal to lie. So you should tell Rafa too. Yet the thought still made his stomach churn. Besides, the nightmares might not happen again. He might be through the worst now. He would wait and see, at least until after the train ride.
He thought of Rafa’s tight shoulders and stiff-backed posture. Rafa was stressed enough. Right?
Am I completely full of shit, or only partially?
He pressed his thumb to the little microphone and locked it, holding the phone up to his mouth as he left a recording. He asked for Darnell’s advice as suburban backyards soon appeared. After a few minutes, he finished off the message: “Okay, I’d better go be social. At least there’ll be booze.”
Taking a deep breath, he left his single cabin and went to toast the future.