“Ricky Smith was the man I lived with at the pub when I ran away from the halfway house I was put in after I started the fire.” His tone was bleak, his eyes haunted. “When I was fourteen, I was placed in foster care with this family that already had three other kids. They didn’t like me because I was gay. I’d never hidden the fact from any of the foster families.” He scowled. “They took me as I was or not at all.”
That was so Toby, I thought with a pang. Proud and out. He carried on, his voice hard.
“Lindy, Mark, and Steve. When they were around, they made my life a bloody misery. My stuff would get torched in the garden. They used to build a bonfire, and the two guys would hold me, pinning me by my arms while Lindy threw my clothes on it. They’d all laugh as the clothes caught fire.”
His voice was cold, not like my warm, caring Toby. “I had a pretty bad temper, but I was trying to control it. I knew if I let loose it wouldn’t end well, and I didn’t want to end up in another fucking foster home. I liked these foster parents; it was just the kids I hated. I didn’t want to get the folks involved in my troubles. They were trying so hard to support all of us, and I was the last kid in, the newbie. I didn’t want to make waves and maybe get an even worse foster home.” He shrugged. “I’d been in worse. So I coped. I let them get away with all the crappy things they did. The beatings, the bonfires, the threats of rape with Coke bottles, the midnight hazing when they’d wake me up with buckets of cold water. It got so bad I used to go to the park across the road just to get some sleep. Until some policeman found me there and rousted me.” His voice grew wry. “They’d watch out for me and chase me away. Sometimes I used to sleep in the public toilets. But then I’d get… other problems, so that didn’t work so well.” He sighed. “I got tired of fighting off perverts and cruisers.”
He picked at the bedcover, and Sheba shifted and licked his hand gently. He smiled and stroked her head. I sat in total stillness, my whole being numb at the fact that he’d been through all this alone at the age of fourteen. My beautiful man, and this was what he’d been subjected to. My throat closed up, my chest tightening so much it physically hurt.
“Then one day they went too far. I had a cat once.” He glanced at me. “I lied when I said I didn’t like cats. I used to. This cat was a stray I’d found huddled up in the park one night when I slept there. He had a badly damaged leg, all torn and bloody. I fixed him up, fed him, and we became good mates. He wouldn’t come near the house, which made me think one of the three was responsible for hurting him in the first place somehow.” His voice grew distant. “Then one day I came home to find him dead on the front porch. His throat had been cut.”
“Jesus, Toby.” My heart beat fast, and I felt physically sick at the pain in his voice. Tears stung my eyes. He saw I was upset, leaned over and kissed me gently. I tried hard to give him everything I felt in my lips. He met my need with his own, and when we eventually moved apart, his eyes were wet too. He took a deep breath.
“I picked him up and took him round the back to bury him, and there they were, around a bonfire again, burning my stuff. New stuff I hadn’t had all that long and worked damn hard to get selling fruit and veg at a local farm stall. I didn’t want to be dependent on the foster parents; I wanted my own stuff, so I got a job. It was also a way to get out of the house, be my own man.” His voice cracked. “Steve waltzed over, took Maestro out of my arms, and threw him on the bonfire like he was a piece of garbage. But he was my cat, Rain.” His voice trembled, his grief evident. That cat had probably been the only friend he’d had. “I legged it before I lost it. I needed to think, so I made a plan to get them back. I thought that as they liked fire so much I’d show them some. So, one day when they were all inside in the lounge playing some stupid TV game, I locked them in. Then I put rags outside the lounge door, put petrol on them, and set them alight.”
His hands clenched and unclenched, and I reached over Sheba and took hold of them, steadying him. My eyes prickled with tears as he stared at me vacantly.
“I didn’t think. I just wanted to scare them. I had a hose outside, all ready to switch on if it got out of hand. But the fire took hold so quickly, and before I knew it, the place was blazing. I tried to get to door to open it, but I couldn’t. It was too hot. So, I ran next door and got the neighbor to call the fire brigade. In the meantime, the three of them managed to smash a small window, and they managed to get out one by one. But not before Mark sustained second-degree burns to his legs. Lindy’s arm was badly burned too. They both needed skin grafts afterwards. The fire brigade put the blaze out, but the whole left-hand side of the house was destroyed.”
He sat back and closed his eyes, seeming exhausted from telling his traumatic tale. I could still barely speak. The horror of his experience seared my soul.
“Did they arrest you?” I managed to say.
He nodded. “They took me in and charged me with arson.” He was quiet. “They wanted to charge me with grievous bodily harm too. The whole thing went to the Crown Prosecution Service—the CPS—for review.” His voice trembled. “Luckily, my boss Fred from the farm stall I worked at came forward and spoke on my behalf. He’d seen the bruises on me a couple of times and put two and two together. He was a really good bloke. Fred tackled me about it, and I told him what was going on. He wanted to speak to the folks about it, but I didn’t let him.” Toby’s chin rose defiantly. “I didn’t want him getting involved in my problems at the time. Work was my refuge, and I wanted to keep the job, not have more crap to face. But when the shit hit the fan after the fire, Fred told them he wasn’t surprised I’d just snapped, and he fought at my side with me. He and his rather large Italian wife Gina.” He smiled at a memory. “They were well-known and popular in the village, and people respected them a lot. So, with their statements given, they had a psychologist come to see me, and a whole load of bloody head doctors.” He smiled wanly. “They decided I was a bit of a basket case and I needed treatment. Then, after all that, the GBH charges were dismissed. I was given detention in a young offender’s institution for eighteen months for the arson, with a promise that I’d see a psychologist. I saw out six months of hell, turned fifteen, then I bolted to London and hooked up with Ricky.”
“You left the detention center? Didn’t they come looking for you?”
He laughed harshly. “You know what the social services are like, Rain. Not enough staff, not enough funding. Who really cared if a stupid fifteen-year-old ran off?”
The room was quiet, and Sheba chuffed softly. Toby stroked her flank, steady rhythmic strokes that seemed to ground him.
“So, what happened with Ricky? How old was he, anyway?” I placed my hand on top of the one on the dog. Toby’s hand stilled.
“Ricky was a married man in his forties. His wife lived with him in the pub.” He saw my look of disgust. “I know. It was wrong. I suppose in the true sense he was a pedophile and a philanderer. But he took me in, gave me a job, and looked after me pretty well. In return, I gave him what he wanted. He was petrified his wife would find out about our ‘relationship,’ so it was all very under the covers.” I winced at his turn of phrase. “Then when I turned sixteen, there was no more worry about anyone finding out about the age thing, and we just carried on. Sonia didn’t know anything, I think, and if she did, she kept quiet. I was never sure which one was the case.” He gave a twisted smile. “I tried to tell myself I wasn’t a rent boy, I was earning my keep, but sometimes I wonder.”
I reached over and took his face in my hands, making him look at me. “Toby, you were never a fucking rent boy. You were surviving, sweetheart. Never think of yourself that way. Not you.” His green eyes stared into mine with a tenderness that made me want to hold him close and never let him go.
I prompted him to finish. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”
“I knew if I wanted to get out of where I was, I needed to go back to school and finish my GCSE. I did it part-time, through a community program that helped kids like me. I was working t
oo, and I managed to save up enough to go to hotel school. Then I applied for a grant from one of the Business Angel facilities. They believed in me and gave me enough to help out. When I told Ricky I was going to Northampton to this hotel school and I’d be living there, he went ballistic. Turned out he thought he owned me, heart and soul. We had a huge argument, I ran, he followed me, and we tussled. He was getting really violent and smacked my head against the wall. I slammed back, then shoved him. He fell down the stairs. The neighbors called the police, and when they arrived they wanted to arrest me. But Ricky wouldn’t press charges. He had more to worry about than me pushing him down a flight of stairs, even if it was by accident. If it had come out that I’d been with him underage and he’d been screwing me in front of his wife’s nose, God knows what might have happened. So, he went to the hospital, and I left.” He sighed. “I was bloody lucky. They didn’t have time to find out that I was on the lam from the young offender’s institution, or God knows what would have happened. I hitchhiked up to the school in Northampton. I found a bedsit to hang out in for the two weeks before school started, and then I got digs at the school.” He smiled at me sweetly. “That was the best part of my life before I came here and met you.” My heart lurched at those heartfelt words. I lost my breath.
Toby’s eyes softened, obviously liking what he was seeing on my face. “I liked being part of something like that and working towards something.” He heaved a long, shuddering sigh. “And now you have the whole sordid tale, Rain. This is who I am.”
I stood up and shooed Sheba off the bed. She looked at me with sheer hurt. But this wasn’t about her. This was about a young boy who’d been through hell and clawed his way out of his dark place into my life. I moved over to Toby on the bed, gently straddling him so I was on his thighs, facing him but not touching the sore parts of his body. I took his mouth in a deep, heart-clenching kiss. I wanted to kiss all his hurt away, tell him that I cared deeply for him without words, because I knew I was going to have trouble saying them to him. Toby was brave and noble and determined. He’d fought so hard to better himself all on his own. It was the saddest and most inspiring story I’d ever heard.
His tongue met mine, searching and eager, and we kissed for what seemed like hours, tasting each other, touching warm flesh and reveling in just being as close as we could get. When I broke the lip action, I whispered into his ear. “You are an incredible human being, and you are not that boy anymore. You’re mine, baby, and don’t you forget it. And I am so yours.”
He growled softly and reached for me, and I moved away. As hard as I was and as much as I wanted to make love to him, he just wasn’t physically ready. I clarified that statement in my head. Some bits were definitely more ready than others, I could feel that, but I didn’t want to risk his wound splitting open or getting worse. “Toby, hold off a minute. The doctor said no physical exercise, and I kind of think I know exactly what he was talking about.”
“I don’t give a toss.” He pulled me closer, kissing me hungrily. I moaned, pressing myself against him instinctively, and he cried out in pain, biting my lip. He went white. I pulled away sharply, tasting the blood in my mouth from my bitten lip. He took a deep breath and stared at me.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” I muttered. “You’re in no bloody shape for full-body contact. But I can do this for you.” I moved the duvet off him and pulled his boxers down, revealing the source of his arousal, all ready and waiting for my mouth to work its magic. He gave a satisfied sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes.
Chapter 15
Toby
RAIN’S MOUTH took me to a place where I didn’t have to think about the day’s events or any of the stuff I’d just told him. The sensation he caused with his tongue and lips was enough for me to close my eyes as I tried to forget the pain that radiated through my body and my soul. Sharing my story with him had been cathartic. I’d never told anyone any of the details before. By hitting Neil I’d given in to the violence and hate that had been so prevalent in my younger years. My body shuddered as I climaxed, crying out Rain’s name, gripping his silky hair with fingers that just didn’t want to lose contact with him. He moved slowly up to kiss me gently, and I tasted myself in his mouth. His warm fingers soothed the still-damp hair away from my brow as he lay beside me, his arm lying gently across my body as he shushed me into sleep with warm endearments and sweet kisses.
“Don’t worry about me,” he murmured as I reached down with my hand to touch him. “I’ll keep. You just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”
I relaxed, the thought of his body next to me comforting me, making me feel safe. I felt loved, even though Rain hadn’t said the words.
THE FOLLOWING morning, Rain left me with a kiss and a promise that he’d be home as soon as he could. I lazed around in bed for a while, with Sheba snoring softly beside me. It had been a long time since I’d had a proper lie-in. Later, when I was dressed, Sheba and I went to sit outside on the patio. I would have loved to walk, but I knew with my damaged side it would have been suicide. Instead I watched her, me in the big cushioned wicker chair, Sheba strolling in the undergrowth and sniffing curiously at anything that moved. I’d never had the pleasure of a dog’s company before. I could see how people thought having a dog was good therapy. Watching her give that stupid doggy grin as she darted around chasing butterflies and the occasional rabbit in the long grass made me smile. When she stopped her exercise routine, she came to lie at my feet, panting, watching me as her tail thumped softly on the ground.
“He’s a good man, your master,” I said to her softly. “He has a little trouble expressing himself, but he’s definitely an ‘action speaks louder than words’ kind of guy. I think I’m crazy in love with him, Sheba. What do you think?”
Her wise eyes seemed to say, “Of course you are, you idiot. This is Rain we’re talking about. Who wouldn’t be?”
I grinned at that thought. A discordant ringing from my denim jacket shattered the stillness of the morning as my mobile told me someone wanted to speak with me. I dug it out of my pocket, and my heart lurched when I saw it was Simon. I hadn’t told him about the attack yet, what with everything that had happened.
I answered my phone. “Hi, Simon.”
“Toby? Why the fuck didn’t you call me about the fact you’d been stuffed up by that prick Neil?” His angry voice echoed down the miles. I sighed.
“Good morning to you too, Simon. I’m sorry, things got a little away from me, and I hadn’t got the chance to call you yet. How did you hear?”
“I still have people at the hotel who keep in touch, Toby. Unlike someone I could mention.” His aggrieved voice made me smile. I’d have to eat humble pie to make him feel better.
“I apologize, Simon, honestly. I only got out of hospital yesterday, and I’ve been a little distracted.”
“Toby, are you okay? Are you going to be fine?” The sudden shift from pissed off to concerned made me blink.
“I’ve been better. A nasty stab wound and some bruises—I suppose it could be worse.”
“God, Toby.” His voice was choked with emotion. “Sweetheart, you could have been killed.”
I took a deep breath at his use of that endearment. “Simon, I’m fine. Rain’s been taking good care of me.”
There was silence; then he spoke again. “I’m glad you have someone there with you. I’m going to be over in a week’s time anyway to sign off on the bar and get all the payments organized for the contractors. I might come over a couple of days earlier to make sure you’re okay.”
“You don’t have to put yourself out for me,” I said quietly. “I’ll be back at work soon anyway.”
“One doesn’t ‘put oneself out for someone’ when they care about them, Toby. It’s what friends do for each other. Some bastard tried to beat you to blazes, and when I get there you can be sure I’ll have something to say about it.”
I felt a frisson of fear. “Simon, please don’t make waves about it.
I’m not pressing charges—”
“What the fuck do you mean you’re not pressing bloody charges?” His disbelieving voice got louder. “Of course you have to put that bullying little tosser in his place. Why wouldn’t you?”
I closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted was for Simon to know anything more about my sordid past than what I’d already told him. I’d always kept most of it from him for a reason. He was my hero, and I wanted nothing to taint his view of who I was. He needed to know the current Toby, not the old one.
“I have my reasons. Please just don’t rock the boat.” The pleading note in my voice must have gotten to him because he sighed deeply.
“Toby, I can’t begin to understand what your reasons would be, but I’ll respect them, of course. But we need to talk when I’m over there. I hope we can find time to do that.”
“Of course. I’ve always got time for you, you know that. Have you given your dates to Tammy as to when you’ll be here, then?” I scratched Sheba’s ears idly, and she snuffled against my leg.
“Yes, she’s got the details. I’m going to be a bit tied up over the next few days, as Luis and I are going up to the mountains for a short break before I have a bloody breakdown. This hotel is taking up a lot of time. The pace is so slow, and the people just don’t understand the urgency of what I want to do. Luis insisted I calm down, although I really can’t afford the time off.”
I heard the frustration in his voice and bit back a chuckle. Simon could be very bossy when it came to work, and I had a feeling that the slow pace of the whole “mañana” attitude was driving him crazy.
“Going away with Luis, hey? That sounds promising,” I teased.
He was quiet. “He’s a nice man. My age, and he’s one of the bankers overseeing the project. We get on well enough.”
“I’m pleased for you, Simon. You deserve a good man.” He sighed deeply, and I felt a twinge of guilt. I wondered if he still had feelings for me or if being away had diluted it somewhat and he’d realized Luis was his new man. His next words gave me a little comfort.
Waiting for Rain Page 20
