Shattered (5 page)

Chapter Eight

“Beautiful Things Of Life”

Kaplan had insisted that the best of Rome had to be experienced on foot, that the effect was lost when viewing it from within a vehicle. Taking the limo from the Cavalieri hotel back down to the city, Kaplan spoke to the driver, “Scalina Spagna.” When Abel looked at him, Kaplan smiled, “The Spanish Steps.”

As if he knew what the Spanish Steps were, Abel nodded and gazed out the side window of the limousine as it made i's way through the beautiful, ancient city. When it came to a stop and the driver opened the door, Kaplan stepped out then reached back in and took Abel's hand, drawing him out into the sunlight – and full view of the Spanish Steps. He just stared at the wide steps leading up to what looked like an ancient church.

Kaplan gave the driver instructions then turned back to Abel, resting his hand on the young man's back. “Beautiful, isn't it?”

“Everything here is...beautiful.” he whispered.

“Indeed.” Kaplan murmured. Abel glanced at him and the man was gazing at Abel's face, a smile playing on his lips. His cheeks warming, Abel looked away. Kaplan led him forward as they approached a fountain taking the form of a sinking ship. “The Fontana della Barcaccia.” Kaplan said. “Fountain of the Old Boat. It's said to be based on a folk legend that tells of a fishing boat that was carried all the way to this very spot during a massive flood of the Tiber River in the sixteenth century.”

Abel smiled, “It's amazing.”

As they moved onward towards the steps themselves, Kaplan let his hand fall away Abel's back and wrapped his fingers around Abel's hand loosely, as if asking permission to hold his hand. Something about the fact that he didn't just grab onto him as if it were his right, gave Abel a funny tickle in his stomach. He slowly tightened his fingers around Kaplan's and the man smiled, reciprocating and holding his hand more securely. He nodded forward as they took their time ascending the steps.

“The Spanish steps were considered a great attraction to artists and poets, seeking inspiration. And because of the presence of so many artists, it also began to draw many beautiful women who were hoping to be taken on as models.” he laughed softly and squeezed Abel's hand. “Which, in turn, began to draw in Rich Romans and travelers seeking beautiful women.” he winked at Abel, “But that, of course, is not my own personal attraction to the place.” he paused when they came to a terrace, and touched Abel's face tenderly, “Yours,” he murmured softly, “is the most beautiful face here today.” he tipped his head and kissed Abel's lips.

“Signore, posso prendere la vostra immagine?”

Kaplan drew back from the kiss as he and Abel looked at the young man standing a few steps below them, expensive camera in hand. Kaplan smiled, “He wants to take our picture.” he told Abel. “Do you mind?”

“No.” Abel murmured then smiled as Kaplan nodded to the young man then slid his arm around Abel and touched his lips to his temple as the photographer took a couple shots.

“Cosi bello, grazie.” the man grinned and nodded, then turned and walked back down the steps.

“What did he say?” Abel asked curiously.

“He said 'So beautiful, thank you'.” Kaplan cupped the back of Abel's head and kissed him again. “Though I'm fairly certain he was looking at you when he mentioned beautiful.”

Smiling, Abel's lips pressed tight and he ducked his head. It felt nice to be called beautiful – without it being referenced to a specific body part.

***

Brandon took Devlin's number and promised to connect with him later, then excused himself as Max took the man's seat. Devlin's head was spinning; I was afraid of Craig. What the hell did he mean? Craig had never been mean or obnoxious to Brandon. He'd liked him, treated him like another little brother. Why...

Are you sure you want to go there? Explore too deep?

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Max said, snapping Devlin back to the here and now. When he took a moment to really look at the man, he thought he could pass for some facet of the mafia, though Devlin was pretty sure he'd rather face down Max Raines than Cole, or even Gabe. Max's eyes traveled over Devlin's jaw. “Sorry about the shiner. My boys...they can be rather...protective and defensive of one another.”

Devlin swallowed thick. “It's...all right. I...I deserved it.” Did he mean that? But he recalled that fleeting thought in his head as Cole had jerked him back to his feet for a second go round. He had silently pleaded for the man to beat him to a bloody mess...as if he'd known then and there that he had been wrong to say what he'd said to Abel.

“I realize the pain all of this is causing you.” Max spoke low, with a note of sympathy in his voice. “And no one has the right to expect you to take sides against your brother. But let me tell you what I know about this situation.” he sighed and pressed his lips tight. “I know the look of a young man in love. And if ever I saw that look in anyone's eyes...it was Abel's. I can't ask you not to seek justice for your brother's death, but I can ask you this – why would Abel lie to you? The boy was crazy about you. And he cared for you so deeply that he tried to run when you asked for the truth. He ran because he didn't want to hurt you.”

Devlin ducked his head, resting his brow against his palm, eyes burning. An unbearable ache squeezed his chest, tightened his stomach until he could barely breathe. These were questions he'd tried to shut out, keep from asking himself. Because he knew the answers, and in admitting he knew...he would have to also admit other things that would rip him apart inside.

“But if you choose to have Abel prosecuted,” Max said stiffly, “You will never see the boy again. Right now, he is someplace far away and safe, and accompanied by someone with the means to keep him that way. If you decide to go that route, you will be met with a dead end. Because you will never touch him.”

Tears welled and rolled down Devlin's face.

Max's voice lowered, softened, “When you held Abel in your arms...made love to him...was there anything about him that could've convinced you he was a cold blooded murderer?”

He was perfect...like an angel. So pure and beautiful.

Devlin wiped his face, breath shuddering. “No.” he whispered, choking on his tears. “But...I knew my brother. I grew up with him. I'm just supposed to...forget everything I knew about him? All the good in him? He was...” Devlin's chin trembled. “he was everything to me.”

“I'm not telling you what to believe.” Max said. “I'm just asking that – before you make any concrete decisions to turn Abel in – that you take time to consider the facts about the boy. If he wanted to hurt you, for whatever reason...why would he have tried so hard to keep from telling you?”

He wouldn't have. Devlin felt sick.

“It crushed him to have to tell you about your brother.” Max said quietly, an ache tightening his voice. He truly cared for Abel. As did Cole and Gabe. The boy was well loved by those who knew him. He was well loved by you too. “And it shattered him...when you did what you did.”

I know! Devlin wanted to scream. I know what I did to him! Stop fucking rem
inding me! Please, just...stop.

***

At some point, they had left off sight-seeing the main attractions of the city and found themselves strolling down a cobblestone street that passed through high brick buildings. There was something very peaceful about this part of the city. Everyone they passed seemed at ease, as if they understood that life was to be savored, enjoyed for each moment. It was such contrast to New York City where life seemed on fast forward.

“Do you like pizza?” Kaplan asked, drawing Abel from his thoughts.

“Uh...yeah.”

Kaplan led him over to a small, walk-up shop that resonated an incredible pizza aroma unlike anything Abel had ever smelled before. Kaplan bought two slices that were served to them on thick napkins. “You haven't truly experienced pizza until you've tasted it in Italy.”

Abel took a bit – and nearly moaned. “Oh my god.” he smiled. “This is...the most amazing pizza ever.” He took another bite, prepared for the delicious flavor this time.

Chuckling, Kaplan began to eat his own piece, but watching Abel with amusement as the boy savored every bite. “Am I right?”

“Oh god.” Abel nodded. “You're right.”

Kaplan laughed softly and when he finished off his piece, asked, “Want another?”

“Please.” Abel moaned as he took his last bite.

“As you wish.” Kaplan ordered two more, and a couple drinks. When he started on his second piece, Abel just stared at him a moment. The man smiled, “What?”

Abel shrugged and grinned, “I just never envisioned you buying pizza from a roadside vendor.”

Kaplan chuckled, “I'm not all gourmet restaurants. I can enjoy the simple, finer things of life as well.” he smiled, “In fact, they say the best things of life are free.” His gaze slid over Abel. “But I can't necessarily agree.” he winked. “Because you're about the finest thing in this life that I've encountered, and well...” he raised an eyebrow, smiled and took a bite of his pizza.

You sure as hell weren't free, Abel finished for him, this amazing day suddenly overshadowed by the reality of their contract.

Why did Kaplan have to make it so easy to f
orget he was just a hired fuck?

***

The ATM was in the opposite direction as the elevators, and Gabe frowned when Cole walked that way. “Where are you going?”

“Just want to check something.” he murmured.

“What?”

Cole looked at him. “Did Abel actually check the bank account Kaplan set up for him?”

“I don't know.” Gabe admitted.

Walking over to the ATM machine, Cole muttered, “Well, I think he just took the man on his word. And maybe he's that trusting, but I'm not.”

“What?” Gabe cocked an eyebrow. “You think the man lied? He gave Abel access to the account, he knew he could check the balance.”

Cole nodded, “Yeah, and maybe he was counting on Abel just accepting it at face value.”

Sighing, Gabe gestured at the machine. “Well, satisfy your curiosity.” Gabe leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't really think Kaplan would cheat Abel. Fuck, the guy was loaded. For him, twenty thousand dollars was surely just chump change.

Cole dug out the card and shoved it into the machine slot, entered the PIN, then selected account balance. He grew still and his hand slowly rose and rubbed over his mouth, lingering.

“What is it?” Gabe lowered his arms and pushed off the wall.

“Kaplan put twenty thousand dollars in here?” Cole asked slowly, brow pinching.

“Supposedly, yeah.”

Cole looked at him, face tight. “There isn't twenty thousand dollars in Abel's account.”

Chapter Nine

“Better Left Unsaid”

“Are you all right?” They were back in the limo, on their way up to the Cavalieri hotel. Since their stop for pizza, Abel had grown quiet, even distant with Kaplan. He berated himself for getting caught up in Kaplan's talk of beauty and just the entire romantic atmosphere of the city. Losing touch with reality – though relaxing and soothing – was detrimental.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” he told Kaplan now. “Just...tired.” He wasn't lying, he was tired – tired of Kaplan treating this like some romantic vacation. Tired of the man acting like he cared, and distracting Abel from keeping his mind on the money and his hired duties.

“We'll be back at the hotel in just a short while.” he ran his fingers through Abel's hair. “You can rest then.” he chuckled low. “I guess I got overzealous, wanting to show you everything at once. It's a lot to take in.”

“Yeah.” Abel murmured and leaned his head against the side window.

Kaplan fell silent but he could feel him watching him. The man wasn't stupid, he knew that somewhere along the line, something had changed between them. But he was remaining quiet about it for the moment.

Once they were back in their penthouse suite, Kaplan took a chilled bottle of Merlot and two glasses up to the terrace. Abel followed without having to be asked. Kaplan set the wine and glasses on a small table and filled each glass half full. He walked over to the banister then held out one glass to Abel.

Approaching him, Abel took the drink. It was near sunset and an orange glow was beginning to settle over the eternal city. Abel stared out over the inspiring view. He felt like an outsider trying to fit in where he didn't belong. A sinner who had somehow sneaked into heaven, but could feel the place rejecting his presence.

“Are you going to tell me at which point I fucked up today?” Kaplan leaned his elbows on the glass wall, gazing down into his wine that shimmered multicolors in the light of the setting sun. He twisted his head slowly and gazed at Abel. “Did I say something wrong?”

Abel licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

Straightening, Kaplan turned his back to the view and rested against the railing, twisting his wine glass in his fingertips. “Please don't insult my intelligence, Abel.” he said. “Just tell me the truth. Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Abel whispered. “You...said something right.”

“I'm not following.”

Abel set his glass on the banister. “When you said you disagreed that the finest things of life were free, because I wasn't free.” his lips pinched. “I guess it...brought me back to reality. Reminded me what I am and what my role is.” he looked out across the expansive view. “This place,” he murmured, “it has a way of...making one forget...what is.” He cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “And what you said, it just...reminded me.”

Kaplan took his hand and squeezed gently. “I'm sorry.” he said quietly. “In no way did I mean to imply that I see you as merely a purchased piece of ass.”

“That's just it.” Abel drew back, pulling his hand free as he moved away from the man. “That is what I am. And I need to remember that, and...not get caught up in the...romance of this place.”

“What's wrong with romance?” Kaplan wondered softly.

Abel shook his head, his throat squeezing as a sudden rush of memories of Devlin swept through his head. He never wanted to feel that again, with anyone. He would never give his heart away again – or let it be taken. “Nothing.” he said thickly, “For the right people. But you and I...we're not lovers.”

Licking his lips, Kaplan ran a quick hand over his mouth and cocked his head, “Last night...it sure felt like we were.”

“That's because...I got distracted from reality.”

Kaplan sighed, “Then I can't say I'm opposed to you getting distracted.”

“Well I am.” Abel said tightly. “I got distracted once already, started to think I could have what other people have – and that little illusion stabbed me in the fucking back.” He thrust his hand through his hair, tears burning. “I'm not looking for a lover. Not in you, not in anyone. So don't make this out to be more than it is. You're paying to fuck me – period. And that line between us...it needs to stay clear.”

Nodding slowly, Kaplan released a hard sigh. “If that's how you want it.” He set aside his wine glass and tugged at his tie, his eyes sparking with a flicker of what seemed to be both anger and hurt. “Then I guess I should be about getting my money's worth, shouldn't I?”

***

Waiting for the phone to ring was nothing short of the torture of having needles run under his fingernails. He'd gone back to the hospital after his meeting with Max Raines – a meeting that had left him on the edge of severe emotional trauma, and wanting to throw up from the stress of his situation with Abel. Which was now compounded by Brandon's confession, though yet unexplained.

Because he had to keep his phone off within sections of the hospital, Devlin was taking every opportunity to slip out and check his messages. But so far, Brandon hadn't tried to call. Do you even want him to? You know what he's going to say, don't you?

Devlin denied it. Maybe it was something altogether different. If it had been something like...that...wouldn't Brandon have told him?

This is our little secret, okay? Don't tell anyone...ever.

Shaking his head, Devlin squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed his back to the brick exterior of the hospital building. He snapped the phone closed and stuffed it in his pocket. No, he insisted for the thousandth time, that was just a fucking dream. Craig never touched me like that. Never!

And the memories creeping up? Could he ignore them too? Explain them away? Tears began to sting and he wiped at his eyes.

“Devlin?” a pleasant male voice permeated his thoughts. “Are you all right?”

Devlin raised his head and looked at the man, maybe ten years older than Devlin himself. “Jeremy. I...” he cleared his throat. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.” Jeremy Collins' degree in psychiatry was clearly earned, for he rarely missed the signs of a person in distress.

“It's just...” Devlin shrugged and wiped quick at his eyes to rid them of any lingering tears. “Just personal stuff.”

Jeremy gazed at him with concern. “If you want to talk...”

Devlin shook his head.

“As friends, Devlin.” he said quietly, smiling. “No head shrinking.”

“Thanks, but...” Devlin averted his eyes.

“All right.” Jeremy sighed. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Devlin swallowed thickly. “Thanks.” he whispered and glanced at the guy. “I appreciate that.” Jeremy nodded and smiled, then moved towards the entrance doors. Devlin twisted his head and watched him go. He liked Jeremy Collins, the man had a sincere concern for others – which he suspected was rare in Collins' line of work. When Jeremy reached the doors, Devlin shoved away from the wall. “Jeremy!”

The man stopped and turned around. Devlin walked towards him. “Yeah?”

His heart suddenly pounding, Devlin's hands flexed anxiously at his sides. “Can I...ask you a question?”

“Yes, of course.”

Devlin released an unsteady breath. “Can...the mind block things out?”

Frowning, Jeremy asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like...things that happened...when a person was...a kid.” he shifted. “Can that really happen...like they sometimes imply in the movies?”

Jeremy looked thoughtful. “Yes, it's possible. If the mind perceives the event, or series of events, as traumatic...it can block them.”

“Like...entirely?” Devlin asked, breath quickening. “As if...they had never happened?”

Nodding, Jeremy murmured, “Yes. It happens.” his frown deepened. “Devlin...what's going on?”

Ignoring his question, Devlin swallowed hard, “What if...a kid was...” could he even say the word? He forced it up his throat. “...was molested by someone that they...trusted...loved. Could that cause them to...”

“That's more common than you might realize.” Jeremy said. “When a kid is betrayed or hurt by someone they look up to and trust to protect them, then sometimes the mind will reject it and bury the memories so that later in life, they don't even remember it happened.”

Devlin's throat worked as he fought a sudden rush of emotion. “Do the memories ever...come back?”

“Sometimes they do, on their own.” Jeremy explained. “And they can also be triggered, by an event that corresponds or directly relates to the original set of circumstances.” He gripped Devlin's shoulder firmly, but gently. “Devlin...why are you asking these questions? What is this about?”

“I was...” Devlin cleared his throat and struggled to compose himself. “Someone...was asking about it. I was just...curious.”

Jeremy nodded slowly but clearly didn't buy his reasoning. “All right.” he murmured. “Well, you can let this...someone...know that if they want to talk more about it, I'm available.”

“Thanks.” Devlin's lips tightened. “I'll...I'll be sure and tell them.”

“You do that.” the man gazed at him intently. “You take care now.”

Devlin nodded, his gaze sinking to the concrete. “Yeah. I will.” he whispered.

Sometimes the mind will reject it and bury the memories.

Overcome with the sudden urge to vomit, Devlin made a quick dash for the nearest restroom.