Not So Innocent (Shattered Glass #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cai awoke to purring and the smell of rotten fish. Begone stuck her cold wet nose into his armpit. “Hey girl.” He lifted the sheet and she crawled under, curling up against his waist. This was the beginning of her ritual to get him out of bed. Next, she would casually start using her claws to knead his bare stomach. He was loath to get up with Riley’s warm chest pressed against his back, but Begone’s massages hurt.

He felt his jeans near his feet and used his toes to scoot them closer to his hand. If Riley found them first, they’d get laundered, ironed, starched, and hung perfectly in the closet. Right between the cattle prod and whip. He choked on a laugh. “Ow ow ow,” he whispered as Begone began kneading.

“Am I going to wake up every morning with an elbow to the face?”

“Sorry,” Cai said and laughed. “Trying to get my jeans. Begone is very insistent on being fed when I wake up. She pesters.”

“Speaking of pestering and needing things.” Riley’s hard cock pressed against him. A crinkle of plastic whispered a second later, and then Riley reached down and stroked him.

“Now?” That came out more breathless than he’d intended.

“Objections?”

“Only to you being slow in your old age.”

“Good," Riley said. "Because I promised something about you not walking for a week.”

“I don’t remember tha—ah” Riley pushed inside him. Cai lost his breath before he could add anything else.

“It was a silent promise.”

The only responses he could manage after that were moans and whimpers.

* * *

An hour later, Cai lay on his stomach while Riley kissed his way down the bruises on his back. Oddly, considering they were both naked, it felt intimate but not sexual, which gave him the headspace to reflect.

The impotency was gone. Maybe the meds didn’t cause it. Stress? Things were working fine this morning and last night. Rough sex sure focused the mind. No voices. No rapid thoughts. Just pure, beautiful pain. Made sense now why he liked it. But Riley? Sweet, kind Saint Riley had a very violent side. “I think I get it,” Cai said, his voice was hoarser and more congested than he’d expected.

“Get what?”

Cai cleared his throat. “Why you’re a sadist.”

“Does it matter?” Riley kissed along the edge of Cai’s hip, his tongue moving over the ridges of implants beneath the skin, causing a shiver to go through Cai from his head to his toes.

“Who did this?” Riley asked.

“Julian.” Cai twisted his arm around to rub his finger over the raised parallel lines at the base of his spine. This wasn’t the time to explain the metal tubes, but he could tell Riley the rest. “Stainless steel needles to keep the skin raised. It’s less dangerous than normal scarification. I don’t have to abrade the wounds like I did with other designs.” He sighed into the pillow as Riley’s lips grazed over the scars.

“Why seven?”

“Peter, Darryl, Austin, Julian, Rachel, Stuart.” He took a breath. “You.” Cai felt the smile against his skin. He tried futilely to keep his voice from cracking, but for hours now, the butterflies in his stomach would settle and then Riley would kiss him or touch him, and they’d flutter up like a wind storm had swept them into flight. “It’s really hard to talk when you’re taking my breath away.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No. But you could quit grinning all satisfied with yourself.”

“I could.” Riley licked him from the small of his back right up the valley of his spine. “But I won’t. Your reaction is great for my ego. What’s the scar on your side say?”

“That’s for my parents. Julian’s grandfather did it from a drawing I gave him.” Cai rolled his hip up. Since the design was circular from hip to ribs, it could only be viewed to full effect from the side. He drew his finger along the curve. “That’s my mother’s name in Albanian. And beneath this interlocking circle here it says ‘Shqiptar?t vdesin e bes?n nuk e shkelin’. Essentially that means, ‘Albanians would die before breaking their word’. It’s better in Albanian. And here.” Cai pointed to the word at the center of the ring. “Besa. It’s like ‘promise’ but much stronger. It’s the first Albanian word my papa taught me. And the last word he said to me.”

“It’s similar to Italian omertà, right?”

“And bastardized by the Albanian mafia in the same way, but it’s not exactly that.” Literal definitions didn’t work as the word didn’t translate perfectly or have one meaning. “My favorite story about Besa is one momma told me about this small, mostly Muslim, town in Albania during World War II. They took in two thousand Jews to save them from the Nazis. But not just housed them, they made them part of the town.”

“Is this code why you’ve been so stubborn about Julian?”

“It’s part of it. A small part. Mostly, I wanted my justice.” Cai laughed and wiped away tears, not even sure when he’d started crying. “This is better though. I feel almost peaceful inside. It’s strange to…to have a purpose in life that’s not driven by anger.”

Riley grazed his lips in the softest kiss they’d ever shared. Cai’s stomach flipped, and the butterflies took flight again.

“How long did it take?”

“The lettering? About five hours.” Cai lay on his stomach again. Riley made a lot of heavy breathing noises that made him look over his shoulder. “Are you getting off on that?”

“Maybe,” Riley answered and bit one butt cheek.

Cai grinned and then hissed when Riley found a particularly sore spot. When he got his breath back he asked, “How come you didn’t do something worse when I told you to last night?”

“When you taunted me with, ‘make me’? What were you thinking I’d do?”

“Dunno.” Cai shrugged. “Slap me across the face crossed my mind.”

“Mine too.”

“Then..?”

“We’re not ready for that. At least, I’m not ready to go that rough with you. Yet. Our first time was a mistake. A really hot mistake, but we can’t be spontaneous again before we have a discussion about your boundaries.”

“Oh.” Cai thought about that for a bit, and though he didn’t understand why, he also didn’t completely understand the whole sadism thing. But he was working on a theory. “Do you think about it? Why you’re a sadist?”

“I did when I was in my late teens and early twenties.”

“I think it’s because you give everyone your power outside the bedroom?”

“Are you asking or making a statement?”

“Both.”

“You’re on the right track. But you reversed it.” Riley lay back with his arm supporting his head. He stared at the ceiling. The giant muscle in his bicep blocked most of his face. Was he annoyed by this direction of conversation? “I don’t take out anger on my lovers. I release aggression in the bedroom so that I can approach the world in a rational, non-confrontational way.”

Riley reached over to brush the hair out of Cai’s eyes, which helped alleviate any worry about annoyance. But brought up so many other questions. How was he so tender and yet so… dangerous?

“Why did you get upset that I called you predictable when you admit your entire goal is to be predictable?”

“I guess I hoped being reliable hadn’t become being predictable. Especially to the person I love.”

Cai rolled onto his hip and propped his head in his hand. “You used to be mischievous and impulsive. Now you’re careful and obedient. It’s like you gave up being you.” He didn’t really want to shift this happy moment into something somber, but Riley so rarely confided these things. And there was one subject that no one in the Cordova family spoke about. “What happened to your brother?”

Riley’s eyes lost focus and became glassy. He swallowed audibly and then inhaled with a resigned nod. For the briefest second, he appeared close to tears.

Cai was angry at himself for ruining this perfect morning. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up and crossing his legs. “It’s such a perfect day. Let’s talk about something else.”

“A good day is the best time to talk about this.”

* * *

Reluctant to ruin the last ten hours of peace, Riley didn’t begin right away. Cai deserved to know, but speaking about what happened, what he did to Reagan, would pull them both into a dark place.

He no longer felt the oppressive guilt at the thought of his brother’s name. It was there, lingering in his heart, reminding him to be the man he needed to be, but time had dulled the shame. Even after so many years, the story would be difficult to tell. He decided to start at a time where they were all happy. Somewhere that would allow him to control the emotions as they escalated. “My birth was a big deal to my parents. A miracle. They thought they were done having kids. They didn’t know there would be two more after me. I was the first boy after six girls and the firstborn American citizen. They named me Riley, a wholesome American name that signified hitting the jackpot of life.”

“They thought you were a gift from God?”

“Yes. I was my mother’s dream child. A future priest. The first American pope.” He chuckled but it didn’t come out as light as he’d hoped. This would be a journey filled with sadness and, not only was he not ready to tell it, but he was unprepared for how quickly the emotions surfaced. He kept his smile, though, because his parent’s absolute and unconditional love made it somewhat easier to relive. And continue living. “I was my father’s golden child. I’d be a cop or join the FBI. Aurelia was nine and the only one old enough to remember and understand a game between my parents about who would win: priest or the cop? According to her, I was either wearing blue or white, and it became a running joke.”

The confusion on Cai’s face was as clear as day. But he didn’t interrupt to question anything, and that was a sign he was trying to logic his way through the answers. “You’re trying to see that part of my parents now,” Riley said. “It doesn’t exist in the ways it used to.”

“No, it’s not that. I haven’t seen you cry before.”

Riley took a deep shaky breath, and then Cai hit him again with another truth.

“I think…somehow you’re the reason they’re not like that anymore?” he said in that way that also was a question.

“I’ll get there.” Riley closed his eyes and took several seconds to get his emotions under control. “Before I was born, my parents became longtime permanent residents. The month I was born, they were able to apply for citizenship.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile returned. “This was, my mother thought, more proof that I was meant to be the next pope.”

“So not a lot of pressure on you then,” Cai said, biting his lip and cringing, as if his joke was inappropriate.

Riley laughed through another breaking of tears. He swiped the tip of Cai’s nose, then got up to get dressed. “Luckily, another miracle happened.” As he hopped into a pair of sweats, he said, “I have a class picture that captures him perfectly.” He got his cell phone from his dress pants on the floor and then pulled out the picture that he’d tucked inside one of the credit card pockets. “His name was Reagan, and he spent most of his time in what we all called ‘dork mode’.” Reagan’s eyes were crossed and his lips were out in the parody of a kiss. Riley handed it to Cai and then leaned back on his elbow beside him. Unlike Cai’s letter, the picture was pristine. A fresh wave of guilt struck Riley.

“You were the only boys and nearly the same age. You were close?” Cai asked.

“Close is an understatement. Inseparable. Like we’d been born twins. It was us against our sisters. Us against our parents. Us against the world.”

“Did you get it?” Reagan rubbed his hands together.

Riley held up the rubber mouse by the tail. “Pilar or Aurelia?”

“Graciela! She pinched my cheek yesterday.”

“We were living holy terrors and spoiled beyond belief. Our sisters suffered most of our mischief. Mice in their underwear drawer, snakes in the bathtub while they were in it, itching powder, dye in their shampoo. I’m not sure how we survived until middle school.” Damn. Why’d I say that? Riley held his breath and ground his teeth until his jaws hurt. He covered his eyes with his palm and squeezed his lids closed, embarrassed by the tears. “Poor choice of words,” he said after a few minutes, dropping his hand when he was back in control.

“Riley?” Cai’s palm gently cupped his cheek. “Wasn’t it you who told me there was no shame in crying?”

“It’s not easy to give up control once you’ve learned to embrace it.” He needed to move on because he could speak forever about the good years with Reagan but, at some point, he’d have to get to his sins. “Jeremy lived three houses down. We’d been friends since we were two or three. I was nine when suddenly he became the only person I wanted to be around. My feelings were strange. Around age eleven, I figured out that I wanted to kiss Jeremy. I was disgusted with myself, and it made me distance myself from my family and, most of all, from Reagan.”

“He must have been hurt?”

Leave it to Cai to stab right at the heart of the truth. “At first, yes. And then angry. Then he became lonely and isolated.” Finding out Jeremy felt the same had saved his life, but he’d destroyed his brother in the process. “By the time I let him back into my life, while hiding this crushing secret, Reagan was terrified that I’d cut him out again, so he would do anything for me. But I was careful only to let him in so far.”

“Is that what you feel guilty about? You were protecting yourself.”

“No. Reagan was a constant reminder that I was a liar and couldn’t be myself. I was angry. All the time. And I didn’t know what I wanted. At one point, I cornered Jeremy in the vestry when we were changing out of the altar boy clothes and made him kiss me.”

“That’s not how he remembers it,” Cai said. “He said you asked and that he said yes.”

Riley’s laugh was empty. He shrugged it off along with the memory. “Jeremy remembers me too kindly.”

“Or you view yourself in the worst light so you can punish yourself more.”

“Whatever truth lies in that, it doesn’t matter. The kiss was significant because it solved the question of Jeremy. And as he and I grew closer, I became more rebellious and distant from my family. I started drinking, staying out all night, smoking, stealing.” He took the picture back and looked at it for a minute. “Now that Reagan was back in my life, I could turn him against our parents, who I was sure would shun me for being different. Reagan worshiped me, and for a couple of years, he did what I did. We broke into a few houses. Vandalized some mailboxes. Stole cars. Dad was constantly using his badge to get us out of trouble.” Riley held off a deep sob with sheer will.

Cai scooted behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest and his legs around his waist.

Riley held on to him and continued, “My mother found out about Jeremy and me from Father Brennan, the priest at our church. He didn’t tell her to be cruel, he was trying to save my soul.”

“She confronted you?”

“No. It was already decided that I’d be the priest, and Reagan would be the cop. She told my father, and they talked about sending me to the seminary.” He couldn’t breathe without his voice shuddering. “And while they were deciding my fate, I snuck out with a bottle of vodka and a heart full of rage. I got into my mom’s brand new station wagon that they’d saved at least five years of paychecks to buy, and I got drunk with a plan to drive it into something. Anything. But Reagan came to check on me. I handed him the keys and told him I’d teach him how to drive. We got about five miles before he wanted to impress me. I egged him on. He sped up.”

“Riley, you don’t have to.” Cai whispered.

“We hit a telephone pole going about sixty. The front dash pushed in and trapped us both, but Reagan was behind the wheel, and it was slowly crushing his chest. It took about three hours for him to die. I held his hand and screamed for help. He cried for mom the whole time. He was barely fourteen. An hour after that, the first car passed us. And my last prayer that night was to die before they could rescue me.” Riley allowed himself to weep because Reagan deserved mourning. Cai held him without a word, and without judgment, until he’d run dry of tears. “When you ask where’s that mischievous boy I used to be? He died that night along with Reagan. I don’t mourn who I was. I like who I am now.” He threaded his fingers through Cai’s and then exhaled as if his lungs had held his breath from the beginning of the story. “Predictable. Steadfast. Those are great words. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. A man people depend on and count on. And sure, every once in a while, I let myself rebel a little, but if you’re expecting some grand exciting life living with me, you’re going to be unhappy.” He grew quiet to let all of that stew. The silence lasted less than twenty seconds.

“Did you just ask me to move in with you?” Cai hugged him tighter.

Riley looked over his shoulder. “Think you’re going to be okay with boring and predictable?”

Cai’s lips pressed against his neck in a gentle kiss. The soft hairs raised with every heated breath. “Peter said I should figure out what I wanted most in life, and I told him the only thing I’ve ever wanted was anonymity. But now I think I meant something more profound. I think what I want is serenity. And I think that’s what I saw in you so many years ago.” He leaned close to Riley’s ear to whisper. “I can’t promise you the same though.”

“Lord, Cai, I’d be happy if you just quit shooting people.”