In Safe Arms (My Truth Book 2)

by Ann Grech

  “He’s dead, Keir,” my dad announced. His words were cold. Clinical. Shock surged through me, and relief wound its way through my bones. I lifted my head from Angelo’s shoulder, tears still staining my cheeks. I looked between my parents, stunned. Dad was still hugging Mom, his arm tight around her shoulder. Tears ran down their cheeks, aging them even more. My body went numb, shock paralyzing me. I had no idea how to feel. What to think.

  He continued, “He killed himself. We figured he knew he’d be arrested. Bastard was too scared to face up to what he’d done.”

  “When?” I whispered, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.

  “A few weeks after you ran away.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, and my head spun. Angelo cupped my nape and massaged me there firmly. It kept me grounded. My elbows on my spread knees, I rested my head on the table, trying to suck in much-needed air. My lungs burned, my stomach churned, and my head felt like it would explode, the dull throb quickly turning into a wrecking ball. Blood pounded in my ears as the news sunk in. He’d never hurt anyone again. I’d never have to see him again. But everything I’d gone through for those seemingly endless months sleeping on the streets and the years afterward were for nothing. The fear and the horrible things I’d seen. The struggle to feel safe again. To learn to trust again. The hunger and thirst. The complete and utter loss of my dignity. The disappearance from everyone’s radar. I’d become invisible, slinking into alleys and hiding in plain sight. People walked past me and ignored me. They looked at their cells, they turned away. The brave ones who looked at me rather than through me always gave me pitying glances. I felt like a hollowed-out shell. As if I was a ghost. Invisible to most people and written off by the others. All of it could have been avoided. I could have been safe at home in my bed. I could have finished school and gone to university like a normal kid.

  But I wasn’t normal anymore. Not after he raped me. I’d changed. How could I have gone back to my old life when something so fundamental about me had changed? Everyone would have known. They would have talked about me as the weakling who bent over for his relatives. I would have been branded as the queer kid who was up for it with anyone without them even knowing how true at least some of their words were. But looking back, it seemed like a small price to pay.

  Angelo moved closer and hugged me tighter. If I hadn’t gone through all that, if I hadn’t lived through hell and clawed my way out of it, would I have been standing on the bridge at the exact moment I needed to be? When the man sitting next to me came to photograph the bungee jumpers? Would I have lived in Auckland and been with Mom and Dad, but missed the most important part of me?

  I slipped my hand onto Angelo’s leg and took the strength I needed from his never-ending support. Lifting my head from the table, I sat up straight and looked at Mom, then Dad. “I came out to him. To Ryan. I told him I was gay.” I paused, waiting for them to react. Mom closed her eyes and more tears fell. “He hit me.” My voice wobbled, but it didn’t break. I let anger fuel me. Rage push me. The fear he’d instilled in me give me strength. “He told me that no boy of his was a good-for-nothing faggot. Then he raped me. Said he was teaching me a lesson. Proving how much I’d hate it, and I did. He fucked me up for nearly two decades. I’ve only been able to talk about what happened in the last year. Only confessed it to Angelo when I understood how badly he was still fucking me up. How he was ruining the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

  “Oh, son,” Dad whispered, his eyes shimmering. “Were you scared to tell us? Did you tell him because you were afraid of us?”

  My eyes stung when I nodded, more tears threatening to fall. Angelo was right there, his arm around me again. I sucked in a breath and waited, not really knowing what I was waiting for.

  “All we ever wanted for you was to be happy,” Mom said. “To love and be loved.” Mom smiled at Angelo before continuing, “If this young man is who you love, then we’re happy you found him. Especially after what you’ve been through. All we ask is that you care for each other, you don’t willfully hurt each other.” Mom reached for my hand again and grasped it tight when I slipped mine into hers. “And you tell each other how you feel at every chance.”

  I nodded, this time my tears spilling over. I hadn’t cried this much before in my life. Emotions overwhelmed me. While it’d been hard taking a walk down memory lane, and especially hearing what Mom and Dad went through, this part—my coming out—the very reason the whole clusterfuck had happened in the first place, was uplifting. The weight of nearly two decades of suppression had dislodged when I’d come out to Angelo, and the last heavy chain had just shattered. Fallen to the ground. It was as if I could straighten to full height for the first time. I was free to be me.

  I looked at Angelo and gave him a watery smile, which he returned. I tugged him down to me and rested my forehead against his. He cupped my face and brushed his lips, ever so softly, against my own. I murmured “I love you” to him and closed my eyes, basking in the warmth of his hands. Letting his gentleness and his whispered words of love back to me seep into my soul. Slowly I opened my eyes and turned to my parents. It was one thing knowing your long-lost son was gay and quite another seeing it. But there was no hesitation in their acceptance, and no distaste in their loving smiles.

  “You’re okay with this?” I asked, still questioning what I was seeing.

  “Yes,” Dad replied simply. “We just wish we could have told you this as a teenager. But now that we can say it, we will. It doesn’t matter to us who you love, as long as they treat you right and you do the same. We’ll never judge anyone for following their heart. Look what it did for us—we got you.”

  My coffee sat untouched on the table, and so did everyone else’s. Only Dr. Bhat had drunk his tea by the time the waiter came back to ask if we needed anything. I motioned for him to take my mug and sat back in my chair, rubbing my eyes.

  “You look exhausted, Trent,” Angelo said from beside me.

  “I am,” I mumbled. “I haven’t been sleeping properly.” Looking up at Mom and Dad, I added with a tilt upward of my lips, “Excited about seeing you again.”

  “We have all the time in the world, Keir,” Mom responded, then added, “Or do you prefer Trent now?”

  “I don’t mind what you call me. Everyone here knows me as Trent, but you chose my name, so I’m happy for you to call me Keir.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, and Dad smiled. “As I said, we have all the time in the world. We can catch up again tomorrow or the next day if you’d like to rest. Seeing you again, I finally feel like I can sleep right again too.”

  I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, once more ashamed of the hell I’d put my parents through.

  “Hey, none of that,” Dad chastised. “You survived as best as you knew how. We wish things were different, that we hadn’t lost all this time together, but we’re grateful you’re in front of us now, happy and healthy. We would have given anything to see you again, and here you are. We came together again, and that’s what’s important.”

  I stood then and went around the table to Dad. He met me behind Mom’s chair and we hugged hard. I remembered his smell: Old Spice aftershave. I couldn’t believe he still wore it. But it was comforting that he did. He was the dad I remembered. The more we’d talked, the more the differences in age fell away. We wouldn’t be able to pick up our relationship and run with it without working through the baggage we still held. There’d be anger and guilt we’d have to work through, grief, and we’d need a way of looking forward. To rebuild our relationship without constantly dwelling on what happened and what could have been, but today was a huge step in the right direction. I’d waited so many years for it to happen.

  “They look alike, don’t they?” I heard Angelo say to my mom. Dad and I pulled back and watched Mom and Angelo speak. They’d both stood from the table and were holding hands.

  “They do,” Mom replied fondly. “We’d love to hear how you two met and how long you’ve been toget
her. Maybe next time we catch up you can bring some photos and tell us your story.” Mom pointed to the camera Angelo had hung over the chair, and Angelo smiled.

  “I’d like that.” Angelo nodded. “Can I take a photo of the three of you together now?”

  Mom’s smile was bright when she agreed, and she stood on the other side of me. I hugged both of them and we smiled as Angelo took a few shots.

  “You too now, Angelo,” Dad said, waving him over. “Doc, can you help us out?” Dr. Bhat smiled and took the camera off Angelo, who went to stand next to Mom. Frail or not, she manhandled him, pushing Angelo gently toward me so I could stand next to my man. I grinned happily having him in my arms again and smiled when she hugged Angelo to her side.

  “Smile,” Dr. Bhat said and took a few photos before checking the screen on Angelo’s camera. “Looks good to me.”

  17

  Trent

  I untucked my shirt and sat down on the bed, resting my elbows on my knees. Angelo was behind me, on his knees on our mattress, rubbing my shoulders. “Tell me what you need, Trent.”

  “I have no idea.” I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m tired.”

  “Why don’t we lie down then?”

  “You’re probably busy. Don’t let me stop you from working.”

  “I’ve got the day off.” He dropped a kiss on the back of my head and muttered, “My boss is a tight ass, but he gave me the day off.”

  I huffed out a laugh and smiled, shaking my head. “You do have a nice ass, and if you’re all mine for the day, then yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a lazy one.”

  “Let’s get you out of these clothes then.” Angelo reached around my shoulders and began unbuttoning my shirt. I undid my cuffs at the same time, and he slid my shirt off my shoulders when he was finished. A whisper-soft kiss at my nape followed, and I leaned into him, letting my weight rest against his lithe body. Angelo held me close for a moment before shifting. “Come on, strip so you can be comfortable enough to sleep.”

  I stood up and took off my pants, hanging them over the chair in the corner while Angelo shed his clothes too. Dressed only in our underwear, we slid under the covers and I cuddled into him, needing his arms around me. Warm and comfortable with my head on his shoulder, our legs wound together, and Angelo’s fingers tracing patterns on my back, I soon drifted off.

  The sun was lower in the sky when I woke, my back pressed against Angelo. His arm still securely around me, I was the little spoon. Not something I was used to, but I loved it. I blinked open my eyes and stretched out my legs, humming when Angelo pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You didn’t have to stay here with me while I slept,” I croaked, my voice still rough from sleep.

  “And miss out on cuddling you?” Angelo huffed out a laugh. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  Curiosity sparked at his words and I turned my head to see him. “Do I give you enough affection? I want to give you what you need.”

  “You do, amore. I love how generous you are. You make me feel loved every time we’re together.”

  “That’s because you are,” I whispered before wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him. Angelo splayed his hand on my hip and deepened the kiss, a wildfire sparking between us instantly. Desire pooled low in my belly and I reached for my cock, but Angelo batted my hand away, instead rubbing his over my hardening length.

  Angelo was hard too, his shaft resting along my crack. I thrust into his grip, Angelo’s dick rubbing against my ass, giving us both a hint of the friction we needed. I sucked gently on Angelo’s bottom lip and let it pop free from my mouth. Angelo didn’t hesitate, licking and nibbling a path up my jaw to my ear and trailing his tongue around it before sucking and biting my lobe. He didn’t stop there, kissing and dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of my throat to my pulse point. My hand went to his head then, holding him in place as he sucked a mark into my skin. I moaned and angled my head away, giving him more room. Angelo rocked against me, rubbing and kissing me, and I gasped and ground back against him. He shifted, pushing me onto my back and hovering above me on straightened arms. He was readying to straddle me, but I held him tight, making him pause. Pupils blown, he looked down at me. His lips were parted and wet; his hair flopped over his forehead. He looked kiss drunk, and love swelled in my chest.

  “I… I want…,” I stuttered, not knowing how to put words to what I really wanted. The day had been filled with emotional upheavals, but I was lighter than I had ever been. I wanted to make new memories. To start fresh. To experience love rather than pain and hatred. “I’m ready, Angelo. For you.” It was the best I could do, and Angelo stilled, searching my face. He was looking for something, but I had no idea what.

  “You want to make love to me?” Angelo asked tentatively.

  I nodded and squeezed his forearm tight, seeking his strength to help me get the words out that I needed to say. “I want you inside me this time.”

  Without words, he kept searching my face before leaning down to brush a soft kiss on my lips. “I won’t hurt you, Trent. If we do this, you need to tell me what’s going on in your head. You need to tell me how you’re feeling.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  “We’ll take it slow. I won’t push you. We only do what you’re ready for. Okay?” Angelo was serious. He wasn’t teasing me or trying to talk sexy to me. He was setting the ground rules so they were crystal clear. He expected me to communicate with him. I could expect him to stop the moment I wasn’t comfortable with anything that was happening. He waited patiently, giving me time to decide. It was time I didn’t need. I wanted this. I just hoped I could give it to him. And give it to myself too. “If you’re uncertain,” he started, but I held my fingertips to his lips.

  “Yes. I want this.” I nodded and sucked in a breath when he rested more of his weight on me. I widened my legs, waiting for him to slip between them, waiting for him to reach for the lube. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my lips. Then another to my cheek. And another until he’d licked and kissed every inch of skin on my throat. He moved down like we’d done to each other before, mapping my body with his fingertips and tongue. But this was different too. He was worshipping me, taking care to show me just how much I meant to him. The soft scrapes of teeth and the swirl of his tongue over the same spot, or soft kiss pressed there, and gentle fingers exploring the valleys and ridges of my body had me reaching for him. He was addictive, as potent as a drug, and I was high on his touch. Threading my fingers into his hair, I held him to me, never wanting to let go. It wasn’t until he reached my abs that he shifted between my legs, and I spread them wide to accommodate his shoulders.

  “Is it okay if I take these off?” he rasped, tugging on my underwear.

  “Yes,” I replied, my voice rough.

  “Can I kiss you here?” he murmured against my inner thigh after tossing my boxers over his shoulder. I nodded, and he stretched up over me again, hovering above me on locked arms. “Can you tell me rather than nod? I don’t want to misread anything.”

  “Yes. To both. I want you there, Angelo.” There was a hint of desperation in my tone, like I’d die if he didn’t touch me, and truth be told it wasn’t too big an exaggeration.

  Angelo sunk back down to his haunches and laved my cock with his tongue. Sucking me, deep throating me, gently nipping the soft skin of my sac with his lips, he worked me up again, leaving me wanting and close to coming undone. Angelo spread my legs a little wider and laved his tongue along my crack. He didn’t touch my hole, just worked his way around it, giving me time to adjust and get comfortable with exposing myself.

  “More,” I moaned and felt rather than heard Angelo’s hum of approval. A gentle swipe followed. Soft and slow. Not probing, just tasting. Loving on me. Then more of the same until my hips were moving without conscious thought and my moans were incoherent. I was reacting on instinct. Free to feel. To experience.

  He pulled away, and I missed his heat immediately, especially when he crawled over to t
he nightstand for the lube. He handed it to me and shivered when I trailed my free hand up his side. Leaning down and kissing me gently, he ordered softly, “Squeeze some of the lube on my fingers, amore.” I did, expecting him to push straight into me, but Angelo took his time, letting me get used to him there. Letting me adjust to this new position. I closed my eyes and arched my back, impatient for him. But he stopped moving.

  “Open your eyes, Trent. See me. Really see me.” I did and watched him as he gently pressed against me. I had been relaxed, but the pressure there had me tensing. Logically I knew it wouldn’t hurt as much as it had that day. You work a muscle, warm it up, and exercising it wouldn’t hurt. I knew that. But persuading my body was another matter. The second I tensed, Angelo pulled back, moving his hand up to my balls. Giving my shaft a pump, he distracted me with his kiss until I moaned into his mouth, desperate once more for his touch.

  I was ready with the lube this time, squeezing more onto his fingers. Bringing my hand to his face, I trailed my fingertips along his cheek when he reached my hole again. “Breathe out, amore. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

  “For fuck’s sake, don’t stop,” I begged, shifting my leg and opening myself to him more. This time when he gently pressed into me, he pushed past my resistance and sank in. His finger wasn’t uncomfortable, but I wasn’t exactly seeing stars. I supposed that was what it would be like for me. Maybe I was broken. Maybe he’d ruined that part of me.

  “Trent,” Angelo warned. “Get out of your head. Talk to me.”

  “You’re not hurting me, but it’s not….”

  “What? Not amazing?”

  I nodded, and he smiled softly.

  “That’s because I’m not moving. I was letting you adjust.” He pumped his finger, slowly moving in and out in a torturous slide, and I gasped. Every nerve ending lit up, and a full body shudder passed through me, my eyes closing as he pressed deeper. Angelo paused and my eyes snapped open to his again. Looking at him, seeing him there above me kept me grounded. It kept me in the moment. He smiled warmly, liking whatever he saw in my expression, and pressed against what must have been my p-spot. Fireworks exploded through me, hardening my untouched cock and pulling my balls up to my body. I choked out a cry and pressed down onto his fingers, trying to get him to brush the spot again. Angelo chuckled and rasped, “Now you know how I can come without you even touching my cock.”