Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2)

by Robert Winter

  “Hernán, I’ll cover everything. I assumed I would, when I asked you to come stay with me.”

  “I can’t take so much from you. A spare room is one thing. Food? Other stuff? No.”

  “But what can you do? You don’t have a work permit.” Hernán gave him a long look, and Colin sighed. “I’m being naïve. I know. You didn’t have a permit to work in Provincetown either.”

  “I’ll find something off the books, or…” Hernán let it hang. If Colin worked with immigrants then he no doubt understood how they had to go around the system.

  “I’m worried you could hurt your chances, if you get caught doing something illegal,” Colin said.

  Hernán turned away to stare out the window again. His jaw hurt until he realized he was grinding his teeth.

  Hurt my chances by surviving? Was he different somehow than the hundreds of thousands of people who came to the States and did what they had to in order to feed and clothe themselves and their families? What did this rich prick know about the things he and people like him did to get by? No, he didn’t want to use a false social security number or scrounge for jobs paying strictly in cash. But those were far better than the alternatives he could think of, or had heard about.

  Colin finally said into his mic, “Look. I’m sorry. That sounded judgmental, and that’s not what I mean. I’d just rather keep you well on the side of the law as much as we can.”

  Silence weighed between them until Colin announced, “And there’s my home airport.” He brought the plane down onto the runway in a small valley and taxied to a gas pump refuel. Then he moved the Cirrus to his hangar, where he had Hernán stand aside while he got it stored away.

  In less than twenty minutes, they loaded their bags into Colin’s Audi and drove the final miles from the Maryland airfield to Washington, DC.

  The discussion in the plane apparently made them both nervous. It exposed how little they actually knew about each other, and how many adjustments they might both have to make if Hernán had a prayer of getting permission to remain legally.

  But in the heavy silence of the car, Hernán realized something else. If he worked off the books and got caught, there could be repercussions for Colin too. The oily, black slick of his life would begin to taint Colin, and ruin the innocence and happiness radiating from him.

  Whatever else happened, Hernán could not permit that. If his own darkness threatened Colin’s light, he would go.

  Chapter 9

  Colin pulled his car into a parking garage underneath his condo building and turned into his assigned space. The silence during the drive was nerve-wracking so as soon as he turned off the engine, he pivoted in his seat to catch Hernán’s eyes.

  “You’ve been through terrible things. I get it. I want you to feel safe here and that means I won’t ask questions. Even when we start working with an immigration attorney. If you want to be alone to talk with him or her, just say so. Okay?”

  Hernán nodded slowly. The pinched expression on his face started to relax and Colin gave a sigh of relief. “Good. Let’s get you settled.” He led the way to the elevators and up to the top floor, and then into an apartment. He dropped his bag and waved his arms generally. “This is it.”

  Hernán looked around with wide eyes and a slack jaw as Colin showed him the place. The main room was actually two stories tall; a chimney faced in rock ran all the way up the twenty feet to the ceiling. The living room, dining room and kitchen were all in an open plan. Oriental rugs covered the hardwood floors.

  Full-length windows and sliding glass doors faced west and let in the early afternoon light. Beyond the doors was a good-sized balcony on which Colin had a teak table set as well as two arm chairs, angled to catch the view. An overhang formed by the patio immediately above, also Colin’s, sheltered the seating area.

  Next to the dining room was a bedroom Colin used as an office-slash-den. Two deep, upholstered chairs with ottomans flanked the walls, and books filled three tall cases. He led Hernán in. “This is where I work when I’m at home and I like to come in here sometimes to read. You can use the computer any time you want. There’s a full bathroom down the hall there,” he gestured.

  Hernán trailed behind, seemingly dazed. Colin brought him up a staircase to the second floor. Immediately to the right he opened the door to his guest bedroom and gestured for Hernán to enter. Because of the unusual height of Colin’s living room, the bedroom had a window that opened to the living room below rather than directly to the outside. A queen-size bed and a wardrobe were the biggest items of furniture, while a flatscreen TV sat on a low-slung entertainment center.

  “This is where you’ll sleep. I have some clothes in here but it’ll be easy to make room for whatever you brought.” He indicated a closet. “The bed’s recently been changed but there are spare sheets and towels in here for you.”

  Across the hall was a bathroom with a tub. “Sorry it isn’t en suite,” Colin apologized, “but at least it’s just a few steps away.” He continued down the hallway which, to the right, overlooked the living room, and to the left opened into a bedroom.

  “This is mine,” he said. “My bathroom is through there so you don’t have to share with me.” A small balcony was accessible by doors from Colin’s bedroom or from the hallway. “Sometimes I’ll sit out there in the morning, or on the balcony below, with a cup of coffee. If you want to go out, don’t worry about disturbing me.”

  A spiral staircase from the second floor took them up to a small triangular room with its own sliding glass door to a large rooftop terrace. The afternoon sky was blue and streaked with high clouds. Decorative planters filled with shrubs created the sense of an outdoor room. A big wrought-iron set of furniture provided seating space. Outside, the noise of the city could be overwhelming, but the day was relatively quiet.

  Colin gestured to the south. “Over there is the George Washington University medical center, so we often hear a lot of sirens, I’m afraid. It isn’t bad inside, but it can get pretty loud sometimes out here.”

  Hernán leaned against the railing of the deck and gripped it hard. “This place…it’s amazing.” He turned dazzled eyes on Colin, who had to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

  How would it feel for him see me like that? Colin repressed the thought. The spark of hope he already nurtured flared when Hernán said he was gay, but Hernán had obviously suffered trauma. What it meant for his homosexuality was unknown. Colin couldn’t risk pushing Hernán away, so he had to keep his distance and treat him as a roommate.

  “I really like this unit,” Colin said. “I bought it a few years ago, before the DC housing market went crazy.”

  “You own this? ¡Hijo de puta!”

  “Um, yeah. I think I’m pretty lucky because I don’t know of any other buildings where the units get three outdoor spaces like this.”

  Hernán gave him a stare. “That’s why you’re lucky,” he said flatly. “Because of your outdoor space.”

  Colin flushed, squirmed, and looked away. “Sorry. Dumb comment. Anyway, do you want to get settled?” He led Hernán back down to what would be his room and moved a few things around in the wardrobe. “There. Let me know if you need more storage.”

  “Uh, is it okay if I leave my toothbrush and things in the bathroom?” Hernán asked hesitantly. “Or do you want to keep it clean for guests?”

  “Oh no, don’t worry about that,” Colin exclaimed. “Leave your things in there. It’s your bathroom. I never have guests anyway.” He flushed again as he saw a pitying expression cross Hernán’s face. “My family’s up in New Jersey and we get together there for holidays.” Hernán turned away to look around the room. “I’ll give you some privacy,” Colin said, stepping out and starting to pull the door closed behind him.

  Hernán grabbed the edge. “No. Please.” He looked down at the floor and mumbled. “I’d like to leave it open.”

  “Oh. Sure. I’ll probably be downstairs in the library unless I run out to the grocery store, so
just relax and get settled.”

  Left alone, Hernán dropped onto the bed, stunned. He’d never had so much space to himself in his entire life. The bed! He flopped backward and sank into the thick comforter. So soft. And who would need so many pillows?

  A princess is who. Filthy little boy.

  He cringed at the voice cackling in his head. Thousands of miles he’d traveled and still Abuela haunted him. What would she say if she knew he was staying under the roof of a homosexual? Her words would be vile, for sure.

  He rolled over and buried his face in one of the many soft pillows covering the bed. I said it out loud and the world didn’t end. Colin hugged me and he didn’t push or ask for more. Other than hugs from his sister or cousins, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched with simple affection. He wasn’t blind—Colin would like more. But he seemed strong enough to control his desires, and just be a friend to Hernán.

  A friend. Is that what Colin is? They’d only known each other for a few days. Yet Hernán had left his job and Rudy to fly hundreds of miles to a strange city on Colin’s say-so. He’d done it because he trusted the warrior he spied, and felt safe with him. Colin was bright and shining, an open book left to warm its pages in the sunlight. Hernán wanted that warmth, that light, to help him find his way through the darkness.

  I might want to be more than his friend.

  The revelation made Hernán sit up in alarm. He didn’t even know Colin.

  Yes I do. I know everything important about the kind of man he is. The rest is details.

  He shook his head angrily. Regardless of what his brain was telling him, the truth was Hernán brought out the worst in the people around him, like the Cuernos gang members. Or he failed them, as he did Albert and Andrea. He poisoned their lives somehow and he could not—would not—let that happen to a man as good as Colin.

  If he could just hug me and have it be enough. If Colin would do that… No. It wasn’t fair to ask of him. Colin deserved a man who could touch him, who could give him his body, yet Hernán’s flesh simultaneously hungered for and crawled at the thought of hands on him in lust. Hands that were demanding, forcing, taking.

  Unable to imagine a time when he would be able to permit such intimacy, a lonely ache settled into his bones.

  When Colin heard the shower running upstairs an hour or so later, he set aside his book. He needed to see what food he had available. Given how Hernán reacted in the plane, it seemed unlikely he’d let Colin take him out to dinner.

  He found green and red lentils in the pantry, onions and some chicken breasts in the fridge. Perfect. He’d make an Indian dal and serve it with grilled chicken.

  After grabbing cumin, turmeric and deggi mirch out of his spice cabinet, he heated some oil in a pot and tossed in the spices to roast for a few seconds. When the aroma of toasted cumin hit his nose, he added a mix of dried lentils and let that roast for a minute to bring out extra flavor. Then he poured in some water and brought the mix to a boil before covering the pot and reducing the heat to a slow simmer. The chicken breasts went into a simple marinade of yogurt, lemon, grape-seed oil and a few spices. He checked on his dal before starting to slice onions thinly.

  Perhaps drawn by the aromas, Hernán came down the stairs. Instead of the baggy clothes Colin had usually seen him in, Hernán wore a pair of jeans and a tight Henley pushed up at the sleeves. The shirt revealed a well-muscled chest and great biceps. His thick, corded forearms looked hairless. Longish hair was damp and hung forward, but Hernán’s head was up for a change.

  Even with the bangs and loose hair, Colin had his best sight yet of Hernán’s face. His heart beat faster. He’d known Hernán was handsome, but wasn’t prepared for the impact of piercing eyes under black eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, full lips tinged with pink, and a cleft chin under his glossy beard.

  “Oh my God, you’re gorgeous.” It burst out before Colin could censor himself and he felt his face flood with heat. “I’m sorry. You probably get sick of hearing that. I just didn’t…um. Anyway, sorry.”

  Hernán winced and looked down at the carpet. “It’s okay.” He glanced at Colin from under his long black lashes. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”

  Colin’s ears burned as he concentrated on the onion he was slicing. He mumbled, “I guess I really hadn’t, until now. You don’t meet anyone’s eyes for long. And you usually keep your head down so your hair falls in your face.”

  “Do I? I guess I forgot.”

  Silence reigned for a few moments before Hernán leaned against the counter near where Colin was prepping. “What are you making?”

  “I hope you like Indian. It’s a dal, a kind of lentil dish. I’m going to grill chicken to go with it.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten Indian food but it smells great. Can I help?”

  Colin looked around the kitchen. “Well, how are your knife skills?”

  Hernán smiled shyly at him. His teeth were dazzling. “Try me.”

  “I need some ginger and garlic minced up.” He grabbed the items from a basket and set Hernán up with a knife and his own cutting board. Hernán efficiently peeled back the skin from the knob of ginger and diced it up finely with smooth, efficient motions of his knife.

  He grinned at Colin, more naturally that time, before moving on to the garlic cloves. “What do you think? Do I pass?”

  “With flying colors. I wish I had skills like yours,” Colin said. “I love to cook, but I’m not the fastest. I tend to take my time, which is why I have to start hours before I’m hungry enough to eat.”

  “I could show you some tricks. I’ve done a lot of prep work the past few months.” They chopped side by side. Sharing his kitchen was a novel experience for Colin. It was nice, he decided. After finishing his onions he started a pot of basmati rice going on the stove.

  “Okay, these are ready. What else can I do?” Hernán offered.

  “Are you as good on a grill as a cutting board?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Ooh, cocky. I like that,” Colin teased. “Bring it on.”

  Hernán gave him a smirk but didn’t respond. Colin pulled the marinated chicken from the fridge, grabbed a plate and some utensils, and led Hernán to the balcony where his grill was set up. Leaving Hernán to it, he went back to fry up his onions, ginger, garlic, cumin seeds, some whole dried red chilies and a little cayenne. By the time Hernán returned with the beautifully grilled chicken breasts, the dal was just about ready to assemble. Hernán set the table with the plates and silverware Colin pointed out.

  “What would you like to drink?” Colin asked. He added the fried onion mixture to the lentils and transferred the finished dal to a serving bowl. “I’m having a glass of white wine.”

  “Oh. That sounds nice.”

  Colin poured them each a glass of a dry Riesling he liked with Indian food and brought those to the table with the dal and rice. Hernán looked a little uncertain so Colin started by helping himself to a chicken breast. Then he scooped a mound of rice and a big portion of dal onto his plate.

  Hernán followed his lead, humming appreciatively when he tasted the dal. “That’s fantastic. Caliente. Nice heat level.”

  Colin ducked his head and his face grew warm again, which seemed to happen far too often around Hernán. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, grinning. “In India we’d be eating the rice and dal with our hands and maybe a piece of naan, but I’m too Western to do that in my own home.”

  Hernán winked at him. “I won’t tell.” He sipped his wine and nodded appreciatively. “Nice.”

  “This chicken is grilled perfectly,” Colin said around a forkful. “I sometimes dry it out but you got it off the fire at the right time.”

  “We have a mutual admiration society going on here,” Hernán teased. “Seriously though. You’re a good cook, Colin. I can show you some shortcuts if you want, but you have a great hand with spices.”

  “Do you like to cook too? Or is it just
a job you’ve had?” Colin asked.

  Hernán wagged his hand in the air back and forth. “I’m an okay cook. My grandmother wouldn’t let me in the kitchen at home, but when I stayed with my uncle or other relatives, I’d make different dishes.”

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven then. We can try to get better together.” Colin raised his wine glass to clink against Hernán’s as they shared a small grin.

  When dinner was done and the kitchen cleaned, Colin poured them each more wine. They moved to the living room, where Hernán sat rather stiffly in a side chair and looked around.

  “Would you like to watch TV?” Colin asked. “Or a movie? I have video games too.”

  “Anything is fine.” Hernán fidgeted. “Sorry. I think I’m nervous.”

  Colin set his glass down on the coffee table and leaned forward. “Tell me what I can do to help you relax. It will take a few months to get through the immigration process even in the best of circumstances. We’re going to be living together, so I want you to be comfortable here.”

  Hernán sipped his wine. “I know. It’s just, everything you have is so nice. I feel like I’m going to get it all dirty.”

  “What? Please, don’t worry about that. Look,” Colin paused to put his feet up on the coffee table, “I’m a bachelor slob. If everything looks nice and clean, it’s because I have a cleaning service in a few times each week.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll have to introduce you to them on Tuesday. Oh, that’s tomorrow. I also need to give you a set of keys, and let the doormen know you’ll be living here too.”

  Hernán gave a whoosh of breath and shook his head. “This is so different from my life with Rudy. Or back in San Marcos. You can’t imagine.”

  “Are you ready to tell me about it?” Colin asked softly. Hernán met his gaze and this time it held. He gnawed on his lower lip as he thought, and Colin watched wariness and fear flicker across his face. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it with me. Ever.”