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Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2)

Page 3

by Robert Winter


  Brandon noticed as well and turned to follow Rudy’s gaze. He sighed. “Gerald. Of course. David ’n I managed to avoid him all summer. Guess my luck ran out.”

  The newcomer was not as tall as David, but probably broke six feet. His silvering hair swept back dramatically, and he wore a fisherman’s sweater and jeans that looked too tight. His face was a bit jowly; Colin would place him around fifty-five or so. He had presence, though. He surveyed the restaurant like he owned the place, spotted Rudy, and walked over.

  “I assume he’s working today,” Gerald said to Rudy, oblivious to the presence of customers.

  Rudy flushed. “Yes, working. As in busy. Just like every time you come in here.”

  Gerald looked down his nose at Colin, and then did a double-take when he focused on Brandon. “Oh. We’ve met.” His gray eyes narrowed in concentration. “Bradley, wasn’t it?”

  Rudy said, “It’s Brandon. He came to the party you had last year, with David Something-or-other.” A glint of malice twinkled in Rudy’s eye as he added, “I remember how often you talked about David after that. Too bad he’s off the market. He and Brandon just got married yesterday.”

  Gerald’s eyebrow twitched. “Married?” A flash of regret, confusion and longing crossed his face. Blankness covered it all quickly as Gerald turned to sneer at Rudy. “Well, I guess Brandon here knew how to play the game better than you.”

  Rudy flushed and Brandon turned red. Colin saw he was about to do something rash. He picked up his fork and said loudly without looking at the asshole, “Thank you for stopping by, but we’re just about to eat. Rudy, could I get another tea?”

  Gerald was clearly unused to being dismissed. Before he could say anything, Colin focused on Brandon. “So, David is off sailing with your sisters?” Rudy tittered and disappeared, and Brandon’s color returned to normal. Gerald stood there a few seconds longer before stomping off to a table in the corner of the restaurant.

  “Nicely done,” Brandon said. “I almost lost it, but you kept cool.”

  “Hey, I learned how to cut from the best hostess in Bergen County, New Jersey. You should see my mother working the room at a charity event. Icicles trail in her wake if anyone displeases her.”

  “Charity events?” Brandon asked curiously. Colin realized his slip. He usually tried very hard not to mention his parents or anything about his family, so it was no wonder Brandon would take the opportunity to ask.

  “Sometimes. Anyway, sailing?”

  Brandon waited a moment, but then nodded. “David rented a boat to take Jo-Lynn, Suzanne and Matt out on the bay. I think Terry was goin’ with ’em too.” He chuckled. “Joe says the Lord may have walked on water but he prefers dry land.”

  As they chatted, Colin noticed Gerald wave Rudy over to him. Rudy looked around the restaurant, but apparently could find no way to refuse without Gerald causing a scene. The restaurant was quiet enough he heard Gerald order Rudy in a peremptory tone, “Tell him to come out and talk to me.”

  Rudy shook his head. “He’s working. He can’t take a break.”

  Gerald snorted and gazed over the menu. “I could always have a chat with Claude. You know Claude, don’t you, Rudy? The owner of this restaurant? I think he might be shocked to find out what’s going on in his kitchen.”

  Rudy flushed and pursed his lips. He looked around nervously, and then disappeared to the interior of the restaurant. A few moments later, he returned, accompanied by another man. He was slightly shorter than Rudy, and looked a few years younger, but the family resemblance between the two was strong.

  That was why Rudy had looked familiar to Colin—he was clearly related to the man he led out. The man who had saved Colin the previous night.

  The angel of his imagination.

  Chapter 3

  Hernán’s stomach churned as Rudy led him out to the front of the restaurant. In Spanish, Rudy whispered, <>

  Hernán shook his head tightly. Rudy of all people should know this Gerald Nimble pendejo wanted more than conversation, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was all happening again. He was being dragged before a man who wanted to make Hernán his property. Just like in the dilapidated way-house, when the thugs had reached out, not for the girl pretending to be his sister, but for him.

  Rough hands wrapped in his shirt as they dragged him up. The other chickens huddled on their beds in the dormitory and looked away, relieved the handlers hadn’t come for them or their loved ones. Only for Hernán, who meant nothing to any of them. Even his “sister” dropped her head forward and rocked her thin body to avoid his eyes. The thugs led him out and up the stairs to the room with double doors. Inside, he was waiting for Hernán…

  “It’ll be fine,” Rudy said uncertainly in a low voice as he slung an arm across Hernán’s shoulders. Hernán shuddered and fought the urge to run as Nimble watched them approach. The predatory look in his flinty gray eyes was one Hernán had seen too many times in his young life, from men who coveted Hernán for themselves. Nimble ignored, or perhaps thrived, on Hernán’s humiliation as Rudy dragged him out to parade like a piece of meat.

  That’s not fair. Rudy doesn’t want to do this.

  He knew, but it didn’t help. Despair threatened to swallow him. No matter how hard he fought to survive, someone always waited to pull him down into inky black depths. Even when he resisted, he failed, like he’d failed Albert, Andrea, and even Isela. Nausea roiled his belly but he kept his gaze squarely on Nimble’s face. He tried to blot out everyone else in the restaurant. He wanted to look away, but that sign of weakness would make him appear even more vulnerable.

  “Hernán, how delightful you look today,” Nimble said in a voice oozing with oil and possessiveness. “Though you should keep your hair short and let people see your lovely eyes. Thank you for coming out to say hello.”

  Hernán refused to answer, but Rudy spoke. “He came out like you wanted. Now he needs to get back to the kitchen.”

  Nimble sighed theatrically. “Hernán, I don’t know why you insist on wasting your time here. I have a big, beautiful kitchen. I’ve told you, come cook for me. You’d be so much more comfortable living in my house than wherever it is Rudy is staying these days.”

  Rudy snapped, “I’m where I landed when you threw me away.”

  Nimble rolled his eyes. “You were always so dramatic. Our affair had simply run its course and you needed to move on.”

  “I did move on, when you brought in that Troy person.”

  “Ah, Troy. So willing to learn. I miss him still.”

  Rudy nodded furiously. “Yes, I heard about it. You caught him with another man and had him arrested for stealing.”

  “Troy did steal from me. The police still haven’t found the antique cufflink set he took.”

  “I suppose I’m lucky you spared me that humiliation.”

  “All in all, you were quite reasonable, Rudy. Now, piss off, would you? I’d like to talk with Hernán and you’re giving him a bad impression of me.”

  Hernán spoke for the first time. “Believe me, I don’t need Rudy’s help to see what kind of man you are.”

  Nimble’s mouth tightened. “That’s unjust. I can be a very good friend. I was generous with Rudy, after all. Clothes. Vacations. The finest restaurants. I seem to recall a Rolex watch when I was swept up in romance at the beginning.”

  With a grunt, Rudy said, “Sure. Generous. As long as I wore exactly what you wanted me to wear, said what you wanted me to say, had sex with you the way you wanted to be—”

  Nimble cut him off with a hand gesture. “Now, now. No disclosure of pillow talk. That was quite clearly a stipulation in our agreement when I let you keep that very same Rolex.”

  Rudy flushed but said no more. Hernán shook his head slowly. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t sleep with men.”

  Nimble tilted his head. “Then you simply haven’t had the right incentives. In the end, flesh is flesh. You�
��ll find there’s more to me than a large bank account and a large house.” He leered at Hernán. “Have dinner with me and we’ll discuss what might entice you into my bed.”

  “No. Are we done here? I have to get back to work.”

  Nimble’s face hardened. “A quick refusal to a business proposition is tiresome. It simply indicates the other party fails to understand what he might gain…or what he might lose.” Hernán’s jaw ached because he clenched it so tightly. When he flicked a glance at Rudy, his cousin was pale.

  “Claude is coming to dinner at my house Sunday evening,” Nimble continued, and his thin lips curled at either side. “I can imagine at least two ways our dinner conversation might trend. Hernán, if you were there with me, and consented to stay afterwards for a deeper discussion, we’d have a lovely chat about books or art or whatever local gossip Claude is interested in. On the other hand, if I’m alone, I could see a warning about hiring practices. Perhaps the advisability of Claude taking a fresh look at those he employs.”

  Hernán felt his cheeks burn, and Rudy was chewing the corner of his mouth. Nimble could cause great difficulty for both him and Rudy; losing their jobs at Veranda would be the least of it.

  Hernán couldn’t do what Gerald wanted. He could not submit to this man. But if he didn’t…

  Nimble seemed to like the expression he found in Hernán’s face. He said, “Well, I’ve kept you long enough today. I’ll expect you at eight-thirty Sunday evening. Rudy can give you the address.”

  Dismissed, Hernán turned to walk back to the kitchen. Only then did he spot the handsome man he had pulled from the harbor the night before, sitting with a blond guy.

  In the daylight, his skin looked like porcelain. The afternoon sun brought out rosy undertones in his cheeks and glints of copper in his hair. They were close enough to Nimble’s table they might have heard the entire exchange. The stranger’s blue eyes burned into Hernán’s, full of what looked like anger and concern and some other emotions Hernán didn’t recognize. He blushed even more, focused on the ground and slunk to the kitchen.

  Colin watched his savior retreat to the back of the restaurant. His head was down, shoulders slumped, and shame radiated from him as he walked away.

  He’d heard Gerald call the man “Hernán.” Colin picked up enough of the conversation to give him a pretty good idea what was going on. It was something he encountered constantly in his work. The situation made him furious at this Gerald prick.

  Brandon had sat quietly when he realized how intent Colin was on the exchange with Gerald. Finally he leaned forward and asked in a low voice, “Hey. What’s up?”

  Colin didn’t answer him directly, but caught Rudy’s eye and raised a finger. Rudy hurried up as a flighty mask slid across his pale and drawn features. “Gentlemen, so sorry I was distracted.” He was breathless as before but his eyes betrayed his nervousness. “Are you through with your plates? Can I get you more water, or tea?”

  In a quiet voice that wouldn’t carry, Colin asked Rudy, “Is he blackmailing you?”

  Rudy started and flushed, but wouldn’t look directly at Colin. “I’m not sure what you mean. Are you ready for the check, Brandon?”

  Colin tried again. “Rudy, I work with a nonprofit association that helps immigrants. Legal and otherwise. I know someone without proper papers may be vulnerable. Can I help?”

  Rudy met his eyes briefly, but then looked away and began to gather their lunch plates. Brandon caught on, and he said to Rudy, “Colin’s a good guy. If you need help, talk to him. Or to my David. He’s a lawyer, and he’s done some immigration work too.”

  Rudy chewed on the corner of his mouth as he finished stacking their plates and silverware. Colin thought he would leave without speaking, but at the last second, he flicked a glance at Colin. “If I knew someone who wanted to talk to you, how would they find you?”

  “I’m staying at the Brass Key. My name is Colin Felton. Someone could ask for me at the desk, or leave a note about how to get in touch. I’m not leaving Provincetown until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Rudy nodded slightly, and then said in a bright voice, “I hope you enjoyed your lunch, gentlemen. I’ll be right back with the check.”

  As he scurried away, Brandon leaned in toward Colin. “I picked some a’ that up, but what’s goin’ on?”

  Colin inclined his head subtly in Gerald’s direction. “I think your friend there is blackmailing one or both of those guys over their immigration status. Likely to force them into sex.”

  “Gerald is no friend a’ mine. And it’s gotta be the guy who came out from the back. Gerald and Rudy were together for at least two years, so I can’t see why he’d blackmail Rudy back into bed.”

  Colin looked toward the interior of the restaurant, where Hernán had disappeared. “He’s the man who helped me last night when I fell in the water. Maybe I can do something for him.” He noticed Brandon’s look of concern then. “What?”

  Brandon frowned. “He’s really good lookin’ ’n all. The guy who pulled you out a’ the water.”

  “I heard Gerald call him ‘Hernán.’”

  Brandon nodded. “OK. I heard Hernán say he doesn’t sleep with men.”

  Colin flushed. “That isn’t what this is about. I just can’t stand someone like that asshole using the immigration laws as a weapon. I’ve seen that movie too many times, and it’s evil and dirty.”

  “I think I get it. But y’know, Gerald’s a big hedge fund manager or somethin’. He has lots a’ money, probably lots a’ connections. Maybe you want to tread carefully there.”

  Colin almost bared his teeth as he sat straighter in the booth. “My friend, I have connections too. Fund managers are a dime a dozen, believe me. If Hernán wants my help, I’m not worried in the slightest about Gerald.”

  Rudy bustled back to the kitchen, excited and fluttery. Hernán tried to ignore him as he stuck his elbows deep in the sink to scrub a stubborn pot. His skin crawled at the thought of Gerald putting hands on him.

  Rudy said to him, <>

  <> Hernán answered as he scrubbed harder. Lips pursed, he worked with a scouring pad to rub the bottom and eradicate any trace of grime.

  <>

  Hernán shook his head furiously. <>

  <> Rudy chewed his lip. <>

  Hernán glanced up at him and shook his head. <>

  <>

  Hernán’s face burned as he thought about the intense eyes of the man he had pulled out of the harbor and guided to his guesthouse. That same man looked ferocious when he caught Hernán’s eye after the nastiness with Nimble. There was a warrior inside his lean body. The drunken, sad man from the previous night had been replaced by someone full of righteous determination. A fire burned within, making him shine with innocence and resolve.

  Rudy took his silence for encouragement. <>

  Colin. A nice name to go with a strong face.

  No. Hernán wouldn’t consider it. The risks were too great. <> But even as he said it, Hernán knew he didn’t believe Colin worked for Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He had a sincerity about him Hernán sensed when they’d walked through town the previous night. But the risk wasn’t just his to take. <imum. It doesn’t matter you’ve got your green card. He’ll shit-can you for covering for me.>>

  Rudy looked shaken, but Hernán pressed on. <>

  His cousin retreated as the implications began to sink in. Hernán continued ruthlessly to make sure Rudy didn’t do something stupid, like go talk to that Colin on his own. <>

  “Stop it, Hernán,” Rudy whispered in English. “You don’t want to talk to the guy. I get it. But what are we going to do about Gerald?” He was pale, and Hernán felt ill for terrorizing his cousin and best friend.

  “I don’t know, Rudy. Let me just…think about it. Okay? We’ll talk tonight. At home.”

  Rudy nodded and went back to work, as Hernán returned to scrubbing the rest of the dirty pans.

  Chapter 4

  After lunch, Colin walked with Brandon down Commercial and stopped in a few shops. Colin’s favorite was called Hook. It sold t-shirts, sweats and other clothing with fascinating, original nautical images and themes. Laughing over them with Brandon, he bought several of the less-suggestive items for his niece and nephews. Christmas was months away but it was hard to shop for kids who literally had everything, so he usually opted for unique and quirky.

  Eventually they strolled slowly back to the captain’s cottage on Pleasant Street David had purchased several years earlier. It was a small but charming house, painted a buttery yellow. Brandon had planted chrysanthemums and replaced summer annuals, beginning the transition to autumn. The couple had spent most of their summer weekends in Provincetown, in part to prepare for their wedding, but mainly because it was a perfect place for two men to be in love.

 

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