Windows in the Mist Page 4

  “Why not?” Kirner asked.

  “Everett only knew what personal information was listed on Vincent’s application. And all member information is held strictly confidential. He wouldn’t be able to tell Tyler and Brandon anything, even if he wanted to.” Javier looked at his friends. “Thank you. I had no idea you both tried so hard. Why didn’t you say anything to me about your suspicions?”

  Tyler griped the rails of Javier’s bed. “Of course we tried. You’re our friend. You have no idea how guilty I feel about that in hindsight. But you’d broken it off with him, and we had no reason to think you were still in contact.”

  “Back up a second.” Berberidis said. “What do you mean application and member information?”

  Javier inhaled, slowly. His ribs still reminded him with every breath how being tossed against a paper towel dispenser had not been a good idea.

  “I suppose it’s going to come out sooner or later. Vincent and I were members of the Citadel. That’s how we met. We were introduced by the owner Everett Pearson. He thought the two of us would be a good match.”

  “The what? Is this some kind of dating site?” Berberidis asked.

  Javier saw a flash of recognition in Kirner’s eyes, but the man stayed quiet.

  “It’s an exclusive club in Dallas.”

  “I suppose this has something to do with you being a homosexual?”

  “While I don’t deny that I’m gay, the club is open to individuals of all genders and orientations.”

  “So what makes it so exclusive? Why the secret identity of its members?”

  He had a feeling this whole conversation was about to take a turn. He looked at Tyler, trying to judge his reaction to the room. Tyler had an uncanny way of being able to read someone. Berberidis did not exactly exude a non-judgmental nature. Kirner’s leanings were still uncertain. And Javier knew from personal experience that people tended to react strongly with the topic of Dominance and submission were brought up. If he told them he’d been a practicing Dom, would the police look at him as an aggressor instead of a victim? Would they be able to understand the difference between consensual play and violation? That was why he’d tried to be vague when describing his and Vincent’s relationship at first. The stare he was receiving from the detective indicated that Javier really didn’t have a choice.

  “It’s a club that welcomes individuals who support and live a lifestyle of BDSM.”

  “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Berberidis said under his breath.

  Keith walked into the room. “Folks, it’s time to clear out. Mr. Alde has an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon to get his knee fixed.”

  “We’re not done yet,” Berberidis said.

  Keith raised one eyebrow. “You are. For now. Dr. Richards is on rounds and immediate medical care trumps police business. You are welcome to come back later.”

  Kirner nodded and Berberidis followed him out of the room, mumbling under his breath the whole way. The tension in the room deflated like a balloon the moment the two men were out of sight.

  “Thanks,” Javier said softly.

  “No problem. I saw your blood pressure going up from the nurses’ station. Thought a timely intervention was necessary.”

  Brandon frowned. “So he’s not getting a consult on his knee?”

  Keith smiled. “Oh, he is.” He checked his watch. “In about two hours. Well, I’m going off duty. See you tomorrow, Mr. Alde.”

  Keith left and Javier looked over at Brandon and Tyler, who wore identical smiles. “I think he just ran a defensive pass interference. I also think it might be time to find a lawyer.”

  “I already contacted a family friend who’s a criminal defense attorney in Dallas. He’s on standby,” Tyler said.

  “Thanks, man, but I really doubt I can afford someone your family knows. Shit, come to think of it, I can’t afford anything. No job. No money. No place to live. Fuck, no health insurance. Holy shit, what am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to let your friend who just happens to come from one of the richest families in the country take care of the financial stuff until you get back on your feet.”

  Javier shook his head. “No, Tyler. I appreciate it, but I’m not taking your family’s money. I know that everything you have is invested in the ranch.” Brandon opened his mouth. “And I know you don’t make enough to pay off hospital fees that are adding up by the second.”

  “Look, you’re used to being Mr. In Charge, but for the foreseeable future, you’re going to do what we say when it comes to managing anything that involves debt. I will not have you suffering further because of pigheadedness.” Brandon stopped ranting and took several deep breaths. “Please?” he asked quietly.

  He was clinging to every thread of autonomy he could, because for so long he hadn’t been in charge of anything. But in reality, he truly wasn’t in a position to turn down Tyler’s offer. Which, right now, felt like just one more piercing wound to his soul.

  “Yes, Sirs.”

  “Oh, I could get used to that.” Brandon said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Shit,” Tyler and Javier both said, under their breaths.

  Chapter Three

  “Well, I already paid a visit to the narco dealer. Are you ready to blow this pop stand?” Brandon asked as he walked into Javier’s hospital room.

  “More than.”

  He swung his right leg over the side of the bed with relative ease now that the stab wound had healed—at least on the surface. It would be a while before his muscle strength was completely restored, but he could at least function. One of the reasons he’d been stuck in the joint for so long was because the doctors knew he’d need at least one halfway decent leg to get around on. According to the orthopedist, his knee surgery had been a success, but he wouldn’t be able to put weight on his left leg for about three weeks. The full brace helped to stabilize the surgically repaired knee, but he was only a couple of days post-op and a wince escaped as he tried to slide his leg across the bed. “I’m really looking forward to getting an entire night’s sleep.”

  Brandon set the bag of prescriptions on the rolling bed table. “Here, let me help. Um, what should I do?”

  Javier smiled. “Hand me the one crutch so I can balance. Keith already helped me get dressed, so at least you don’t have to help me get my underwear on. Thank you for bringing the clothes, by the way.”

  “No problem.”

  He had trouble catching his breath for a moment as it hit him all over again how Brandon and Tyler had turned their lives upside down to be there for him. When Javier’s doctor had said he was being released, he’d had a ‘oh fuck’ moment as he realized he didn’t have anywhere to go and he wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders yet.

  “Thank you, again. I’m sorry dealing with me takes you away from Tyler.”

  Brandon waved him off. “We lived two hours away from each other for the first year and a half we were dating. Time apart is not going to break us. Fortunately, I can work from anywhere. So until the cops get their heads out of their asses and say you can go back to Dallas, it’s the Brandon and Javier show.”

  “Here’s your limo, Javier.” Keith announced as he brought in a wheelchair.

  “Does it have a wet bar?” he asked.

  Brandon held up the bag of prescriptions. “Nope. I’ve got the party mix over here. When can he have another pain killer?”

  “I don’t want one. I’m tired of being fuzzy-headed.”

  “Don’t be a stubborn ass. You’re never going to heal if you’re writhing in pain.”

  Javier stared at Brandon. “I survived months of more pain than you can imagine. This? This is nothing.”

  A shroud of silence covered the room. Brandon’s and Keith’s soft breaths seemed to echo. He wouldn’t hide from the reality of his abuse, but he refused to let it control him. He was a survivor and, while it might take time, he would get back the life that had been stolen from him.

  “I…I don’t know what t
o say,” Brandon whispered.

  Javier smirked. “Well, that’s a first. Look I don’t want you walking on eggshells around me, avoiding the giant purple elephant in the room. I have no intention of hiding away or falling into some abyss of depression. I’m not saying it’s going to be clear sailing, but if I say I’m good, it’s because for the moment I’m good.”

  “Fair enough.” Brandon looked over at Keith. “At least this limo service comes with a hot driver.”

  Javier chuckled as Keith blushed. He’d miss the guy. Keith had tried to maintain a professional distance, but Javier had beaten him down with kindness until the man had started talking about being a newlywed and they’d struck up a quasi-friendship during Javier’s stay. Javier had even given his input on what features Keith and his wife should look for as first-time home buyers.

  “Shall we, gentlemen?” Keith asked, gesturing at the wheelchair.

  Javier swung his way over and gingerly lowered himself onto the seat. As Keith pushed the chair, Javier said a silent goodbye to each hallway. The lobby of the hospital was the most chaos he’d seen in months. Every muscle in his body tensed and he shifted his eyes from one person to the next. He suddenly had a hard time taking deep breaths. Keith placed his hand on Javier’s shoulder and the dizziness faded.

  “Brandon, you can bring your car up to the front doors and we’ll load up there,” Keith said.

  Brandon nodded. “Be right back.”

  Javier turned his head and looked at Keith over his shoulder. “Hey, come around here for a second.” As soon as he had Keith in his line of sight, the last of the anxiety dissipated. “I wanted to say thank you. I know you didn’t have to come down here to see me off. You’re a busy man.”

  “It was no problem.” He leaned in and whispered, “I really was looking for an excuse not to visit Mr. K. He’s now taken to cursing us out in Polish.”

  He found himself laughing, despite his intention to have a serious conversation. “Well, that’s fair enough, but no, really. I know I’m probably just room twenty-two fourteen for you and the others, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and your decency with my friends.”

  “Hey, none of my patients are just a room number. I make sure to treat everyone on my floor the way I would hope to be treated. Besides, I like your friends. Brandon’s kind of a smartass, but he’s funny, and Tyler, well, I would never have guessed he grew up a member of America’s one percent.”

  Javier swallowed and nodded. He was a lucky guy to have people like Brandon and Tyler in his life. More than Keith would ever know, considering he’d been a real asshole during his early years.

  “I would say I’m going to miss you, but you are a Steelers fan, so…”

  “Well, it’s not like I can have a guy who’s been known to root for the Ravens as a friend anyway.”

  “Hmm, I guess we’re at an impasse.”

  “I guess so…unless…how do you feel about the Patriots?”

  Javier gasped. “Do not speak such blasphemous words in my presence.”

  “We should be fine, then. Look I don’t normally do this, but when you get settled and stuff, give me a call.” He held out a piece of paper.

  Javier took the scrap and read the digits. It was definitely going over and above, but beside Brandon and Tyler, he really didn’t have many other friends in his life. Keith might live in Lubbock and Javier had every intention of going back to Dallas, but nobody ever said they had too many friends.

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “There’s Brandon flagging us down. Let’s get you out of here and, no offense, but I really don’t want to see you here again.”

  “None taken.”

  Keith wheeled him out and when they arrived at the passenger door of Brandon’s Jeep, he pushed his way up from the chair and grabbed on to the door frame to stabilize himself, then used the handles to help maneuver into the seat.

  “It had to be the left leg, didn’t it?” He grunted.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not going too far. I found us a sweet little Airbnb just south of the university. Got a good deal and I figured it was better than sitting on top of each other in a hotel room.”

  “Thanks. Hopefully we won’t have to stay long. I haven’t heard anything from the detectives for a couple of days other than ‘don’t leave town’.”

  They waved to Keith before Brandon pulled away and Javier dug his nails into the handle above his head. He gripped it harder than was truly necessary.

  “So how about some real food? We could grab some takeout or dine-in somewhere, then I’ll go get groceries after we get settled. Oh, the place is a guest house on somebody’s property. So we’ll each have our own room and there’s a full kitchen and bath.”

  “Good. That way I don’t have to listen to you and Tyler have phone sex.”

  Brandon snorted. “Just because there are walls separating us, don’t think for one second that Tyler can’t make me scream. You have no idea just how good he is.”

  Javier looked over at Brandon and waited for the lightbulb to turn on.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Ding!

  “Sorry, most of the time I forget at this point that the two of you—”

  “Yeah, but you know what you two have is far more meaningful what we did. Not only because you love each other, but your dynamic is completely different. It never would have worked out between Tyler and me, even if I hadn’t fucked it up royally.”

  “Are you talking about the kink stuff?”

  “Mmmm, sort of. When I was a practicing Dom, I used the role to purposely create separation between myself and the man I was fucking. I always gave them what they needed physically, but I closed myself off to anything resembling a meaningful relationship. I know that now.”

  “Not to be nosy, but you keep using the past tense.”

  Javier nodded. “Just before Vincent—or whatever the fuck his real name was—took me, I’d decided that I needed to reexamine my priorities with my partners. I’ve known many Dom and subs over the years who find fulfillment in the lifestyle. Some for play, some maintain their roles twenty-four-seven, some just like to fuck and some are looking for committed partners. But I think one of the reasons I never found what I was looking for was because I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

  “So… you’re not a Dom anymore? Can you really just turn it off like that?”

  “I don’t have the answers yet, but I know for damn sure that I’m not looking to get involved with anyone anytime soon.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Besides, it’s not as if I don’t have enough to deal with at the moment.” Javier watched the buildings pass by. “God, I could really go for some jalapeno rings right now.”

  Brandon tapped on the screen of his phone. “Hey, Siri, find me the best Mexican restaurant near me.”

  “Okay, here is what I found on the web.”

  “Pick us a place, man. I’m starving too.” Brandon held out the phone

  Javier took it and stared at the screen for a second.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It just feels weird to have one of these in my hand again.”

  “Motherfucker,” Brandon whispered.

  “No worries. It’s like riding a bike, right? I’m sure once I get around to buying one again, it’ll be glued to my hands like the rest of our generation.”

  “We’ll go to the store tomorrow and add you to my plan. You’re going need one to coordinate your appointments and stuff anyway.”

  Javier started to object when Brandon turned and gave him the evil eye.

  “Thanks,” he said, softly.

  * * * *

  He pulled at the chains that secured him to the ceiling. The metal bit into the already tender and bruised flesh of his wrists. His shoulders burned from the strain. Sweat poured down his face and stung his eyes.

  “You people are all the same. You hide behind the justification of kink, but let’s be honest and call you wh
at you truly are. You are a sick fuck who gets off on torturing the innocent.”

  His voice gone from screaming denials over and over again, Javier just shook his head.

  “Stop fucking denying it!”

  He screamed as the whip sliced across his back yet again. The trails of fire crisscrossed each other like a map to the hell he found himself in.

  “I…I never hurt you.”

  Vincent punched him in the kidneys, forcing him to swing in his shackles. He knew he’d be pissing blood again. Javier closed his eyes and tried to breathe without throwing up. Vincent didn’t like it when he vomited. The bones in his hands ground together as Vincent crushed them in his massive paws.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

  He opened his eyes, slowly, and Vincent’s face swam inches away from him. The bright blue eyes that had originally attracted Javier glowed and his fair skin was mottled. Rage seemed to drip from every pore of the man’s body. When he’d first awoken to this ninth circle of hell, he’d been terrified, even to the point of humiliating himself, but with every slash of the whip and burn of the brand he’d built a casing around his soul. If his body gave up, so be it, but Javier refused to allow this man to destroy his mind.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to admit it. I want you and all of those like you to pay for your perversions. I will eradicate each and every one of you. One by one until our society is cleansed of the stain of your existence.”

  “First, I’m pretty sure those are some unrealistic expectations. Second, what happens in the privacy of a person’s bedroom is none of your fucking business. Third, if our lifestyle is so abhorrent to you…” He stopped as a cough rattled through his chest. “How come you played the part so perfectly? I think you’re just like us. I think this might be one of those ‘doth protest too much’ situations.”