Back in the Rain

by Elen Chase

  I scrolled the contacts on my watchpad and at last I chose one. It rang for a while before he picked it up.

  "I hope you have a good reason for waking me up at such an hour, Drew," said Jim, clearly annoyed and sleepy.

  "I'm in the old factory area, alone and covered in blood… Is that a good reason?"

  "What do you want?"

  "Can you send someone to pick me up?"

  "You're such a pain in the ass… are you hurt?"

  "Yes."

  "Why don't you call your boyfriend for this kind of thing?"

  "… he did this to me."

  "Pfff—" Jim couldn't refrain himself from laughing.

  "Can you stop laughing and send me someone already? A doctor would be appreciated."

  "God, you're such a spoiled brat. I'm coming myself," he said, and hung up on me. I waited there on the ground for a while, looking at the sky and thinking of all that had gone wrong in the previous days.

  "It was about time," I told him when he finally got there. Jim was well dressed, with a silky shirt and cream colored pants. His sunglasses, necklace and watchpad taken together must have cost like a whole Downtown apartment.

  "Sorry, I was getting dressed," he said, and walked around me in a circle, staring at me. I couldn't see his expression behind the sunglasses. "Ahh, I wouldn't have missed this for anything in the world," he said, satisfied.

  "Fuck you, Jim."

  "Say that again and I'll be taking pictures of you."

  "So I can still get lower than this. Somehow I'm relieved."

  "You said it was Dan."

  "Yeah."

  "And those bullet holes?"

  "Him too."

  "Ha-ha-ha."

  "Did you come here just to laugh at me?"

  "Okay, enough," he said, then he called somebody with a whistle, making the sign to come closer with his hand. Two men came out of his car and helped me stand up. Any small movement caused a sharp pain in my ribs, and they had to sustain me. "What did you do to piss him off to this point?" Jim asked me.

  "It's a long story," I said.

  They drove us to the Downtown city center, and stopped in front of an apartment complex I had never been to.

  "Where are we?" I asked.

  "This is one of my properties," said Jim. "A doctor is waiting for us."

  We went in. A man in his fifties, with a long beard and small glasses, was waiting for us in the living room.

  "Jim, I was on vacation," he said when we got in, and took a look at us. "Come on, kid," he said, and had me sit on the couch.

  "Sorry Gale, it was sort of an emergency," said Jim.

  "I had promised my daughter I’d take her to the festival this morning. I'm charging you double," he carefully examined the bruises on my face. "Nothing serious here, just some contusions. Take your shirt off." I tried, but the pain prevented me from lifting my arms. It hurt so much I wasn't able to move an inch.

  "Uhm," said the doctor, and rolled my shirt up. I had a big, red bruise on the right side of my torso. "Tell me if you feel any pain," he said, and methodically touched it in specific points. As soon as he put his fingers on the exact spot Dan had hit, I screamed from an unbearable pain. I found it hard to breathe regularly. "You might have something broken here, kid. We should do a chest x-rays. Hospital?"

  "Out of the question," I replied.

  "Why do I even ask?" he said, and looked again at it. "Does it hurt when you breathe?"

  "If I just breathe, no."

  "Try coughing." I did as he said, but thankfully I felt nothing. "If you don't feel any pain breathing then it's just a bad bruise. Just stay still and rest; you're getting off easy for now, even broken ribs usually heal on their own within a few weeks. If the pain is too much, take a painkiller. Got it? No weights, no fights, no nothing. And you'll be like new."

  "Yes, sir," I said. He gave me a painkiller immediately so that I could go wash myself and disinfect the injuries. When he had finished medicating me, he left. I sat in the living room with Jim, who was looking at me lost in his thoughts.

  "You're a rich kid, aren't you?"

  His question took me by surprise. "Why do you ask now?"

  "You seem pretty comfortable in my over-expensive clothes." He had lent me a tracksuit, quite famous brand too. "Say Drew, do you think Downtown is a mess?” he asked me.

  “Seriously?” I frowned. He smirked, and looked outside the window.

  “Trust me, in the past fifteen years or so it's improved considerably. When I was a little kid, it was the worst slum you could imagine, or maybe you can't even imagine it. My parents used to send me to Uptown to beg for money out of the station. I remember the stares of people passing by, that disapproving look in their eyes. During those long days all I did was look at the other kids in their clean clothes and smiling faces, and I hated them. I swore to myself that I would become happier than them, richer than them, that one day I would look at them like they looked at me. And I did it."

  "So that's why you've become such a show-off."

  "That's the point. I love it when people understand the value of the things I wear, and realize they can't afford it. It's like a game for me: my own way to prove I’m stronger."

  "And if you find someone richer than you?"

  "Then I play it with self-confidence. They might be richer, but I'm smarter."

  "I see… and you've been playing this game with me too?"

  "Yes, I had so much fun with you. You know, there's no meaning of showing off with Downtown kids, they’ll simply go like, ‘Okay, Jim's rich’, and that's over, but you! You started judging me the second you set foot in the V.I.P. area of my bar. Only you were slightly different from the others, ‘cause you weren't jealous of me. You sincerely thought mine was ‘dirty money.’ I didn't think there was still someone who truly believed in the Uptown's perfect society. I have to admit, it was great to see you get in the dirt."

  "You're a sadist," I told him. "Even if I see you have a lot of expensive stuff, I don't give a shit how you spend your money anymore."

  "Even if it's ‘dirty money?’"

  "All money is dirt, not just yours. If I had to get angry over it, I could as well go kill myself."

  "Nice one."

  "Have you ever lost this game of yours?"

  "Once."

  "To whom?"

  "The guy who kidnapped my sister."

  "The owner of a casino, if I remember correctly." The one Dan negotiated with.

  "Yes, since that time he's our partner. It was part of the deal he made with Dan. We sell him our stuff at over discounted prices, and we use his place to recycle our money into credits. We also have exclusive use of some of his underground rooms."

  "Is that where you're keeping the poison maker?"

  "Bingo."

  "I'm sort of curious to know what he's like."

  "Oh, if you saw him you'd be surprised. I was, and I met him in person just recently. But more importantly, what are you gonna do now that Dan kicked you out?"

  "I'll go back to him." I can't let things end like that.

  "Seriously? He'll kill you this time."

  "I still want to go back to him."

  "Why don't you join my group?” he said casually, as if he’d just asked me if I wanted any sugar in my coffee. I wasn’t sure I understood what he said. “We'll help you with your revenge, and we'll give you a place to belong when it's all over."

  That was really out of the blue. "What?" I still couldn’t believe it.

  "Bill says you've got talent. Ray, Nick and the others seem to like you too. And I might need an assistant to clean up my messes. Who better than one who hates me?"

  "Like, keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

  "Yeah, something like that."

  "I..." Until a couple of months before, it would have taken me less than a second to refuse. But in that moment… "I'll think about it. But not now, and I don't want to leave Dan anyway."

  "Fair enough. I serio
usly hope you won’t end up dead when you go back to his place."

  "I won't."

  Chapter 59

  Four floors with no elevator were hell on Earth for my broken body. I had to stop to rest every now and then, and I wondered the whole time if I would find him home. I was nervous, and I didn't know what to say to him. Nothing had changed; I still couldn't trust him, and I still wasn't ready to know him for real. But I wanted to be with him anyway. Would he accept that? Or was it too late?

  The door of the apartment was closed. I used my key and went in silently, then closed it behind my back. The living room was a mess, like it had been searched by a thief. I saw light coming from the small storage room Dan kept his paintings in, the room I had seen only the day I first arrived to his house. He was inside, on his knees, hands on the floor, looking at the ground. All around him there were scattered papers, stuff that seemed to have fallen from the boxes and broken paintings. I hadn't realized there were so many things stored there. Did he make this mess on his own? He must have been furious.

  "Why did you come back?" Without even looking at me, he spoke in a plain, emotionless voice.

  "Because I can't give up. Neither on the investigation or you."

  Silence.

  "Dan, I need you."

  Silence.

  He wasn't moving an inch. I walked toward him, and knelt by his side. He turned his head the other way, to avoid meeting my eyes.

  "You don't seem surprised… were you expecting me to come back?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "But...?"

  "I wished you wouldn't." This time his voice was hoarse. I needed to see his face, I touched his shoulder to have him turn my way. He shook away my hand and lifted his head; with some surprise, I realized he was holding his tears. After all I said to him, he was about to cry for me. I had no doubt now, all he had said and done that day, he had done it for my sake. Acting so cold at Ms. Wilson's place, threatening me, screaming at me, he was trying to make me snap out of it. I reached for his hand, holding on as he tried to reject me. I gathered all the strength I had left, and decided to be honest with him once and for all.

  "You were right, Dan, the whole time," I told him. "All that you told me, it was the truth. I'm an idiot, a spineless brat who got into something too big for him. I found out just today. I thought I had grown stronger, and I thought I wouldn't be a burden for you anymore, but I was wrong. When we were little I wanted to think that I was the strong one, that I was going to take care of you and An," I was about to cry, but I forced myself to keep talking, "but I was always the weakest of us. I couldn't accept it. I hated An for dying, and you for leaving me. You were going your own way for the first time, and I felt betrayed, left behind." He was looking into my eyes without a blink. "You are the part of me I wished I could just forget. After you came here. After I came here. Always. I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need you at first, so I pretended I didn't care about you. But you were here, your presence so certain and fierce, like nothing ever changed between us. You saved me from going crazy countless times, just by being with me, like you did when An died. You allowed me to take back my place by your side. You let me do whatever I wanted to you. You let me hurt you, you let me use you, you accept everything of me. So once again I got too comfortable and took you for granted. I've been an egotistical piece of shit. And I have to confess to you, that despite everything, I can't trust you completely. I know you noticed, and I know you can feel it. I'm so sorry, Dan." He remained silent, so I didn't stop. "I'm just a kid, I'm afraid of myself, of how I could react to things. Just think of today. I wasn't really thinking that, I never blamed you for An's death, never. Please, forgive me."

  "That's not even the point anymore. I simply want you to stay away from me and from this place." He was serious.

  "I don't want to run away; I won't do this to Shallie. I need you, Dan, I can't go through it all alone."

  "You can just go back home and find another way," he said loudly. "This place is not for you, Drew. You're too honest for all this. I know you're only seeking the truth, but what we've been doing will only hurt you, and in the worst case scenario, kill you! Don't you understand? What happened to that woman is just the beginning!" he almost screamed in my face. I held his hand even stronger than before, and he shook it off and stood up. I grabbed his wrist. He tried to push me away, and I did my best not to let go, despite the slicing pain in my abdomen.

  "Just go away!"

  "I'm not leaving you again!" I howled, shaking him so strong we fell down. His back hit the floor and he let a groan of pain out, probably because of how I had beaten him that morning. I was on top of him, still trying to hold him down as he kept struggling to resist it.

  "You can't stay here anymore," he cried out.

  "You're scared. You're afraid something will happen to me."

  I finally realized what was going on. After all those months spent helping me, what we saw that morning finally broke him down. He was afraid he couldn't protect me anymore. I pinned his arms on the floor on top of his head, holding his wrists with my left hand. I could feel he almost had no strength in him anymore.

  "I know you only want me to be safe, and I never listen to you. I'll change, Dan, I'll do anything to keep being with you, I— "

  "—Drew," he stopped me. Tears were falling on his cheeks. "You are overestimating me." His lips were curved in a bitter smile. "It's true that I wanted to protect you. But it's not just that. I…" Heavy sobs, coming from within, broke the regular rhythm of his breath. It seemed that for how strongly his will was trying to hold back, his heart had reached its limit, overflowing with emotions. Those small teardrops that were delicately flushing his cheeks turned into a desperate crying that I couldn't seem to stop. "You’re right not to trust me… I know you want to believe in me, but I… I don't deserve it," he managed to say, through the tears.

  Again doubt forced its way between us, and I went still. I was scared. A lot of things came to my mind, things I had happened to think and tried to forget. A voice in my head was screaming I don't wanna know. But there was a fact, that I knew for sure: nobody else in the world could give me so much affection; nobody would cry for me after the terrible things I said; nobody could have kept that feeling alive and strong for fourteen years... except him. I stopped thinking, and let myself fall on him, tucked my face on the crook of his neck, my right hand on his chest and the other still on his wrists. He gasped and then cried even louder than before.

  "I'm sorry Drew... I'm so sorry..." he repeated over and over whenever he was able to talk.

  I could hear no more of that. I was confused; I blamed myself for making him cry, I was scared of what he was apologizing for, and I felt angry at him for hiding things from me and angry at myself for being angry at him.

  "Dan," I called his name and kissed him, taken by an unstoppable anxiety. As I pressed my lips on his, I started crying too. I moved back a little and lost myself into his eyes. He couldn't move as I was still holding him down, and he stayed still, looking at me with an unsteady breath and tears running down his face; he was beautiful. I leaned on him again and kissed him one more time.

  This time I forced my way through his wet lips, thrust my tongue into his mouth and held his wrists stronger, pinning him harder on the floor. He responded to my kiss, as if he was desperately trying to get us closer, to reach out to me. I lost my head. My right hand crawled down on him, undoing his belt and taking it away. I used it to tie his wrists up to a fallen easel which was right above his head, so that I had both hands free. He let me do it without a word, an indistinguishable expression on his face. I kissed him passionately as my hands explored his body, all the way down. I was pleased to know that simply kissing me, and my touch on him, could make him so hard. I got rid of his pants and underwear all at once. A perverted sense of satisfactory possession ran through my veins just for being in such a complete control over him. I pulled his shirt up, uncovering the purple bruises that our fight had lef
t on him. I kissed tenderly each one of them, accompanying every movement with a gentle stroking. The weak moans coming from his mouth were driving me crazy even more. After I kissed the last one, on his belly, my face was way too close to his erection to resist that temptation. I stuck my tongue out and licked his tip, causing his all body to react to that new sensation, as if an electric shock passed through it. I took the tip completely in my mouth, covering my teeth with my lips and letting saliva roll on it all the way to the base. Then I sucked on it, a salty taste filling my mouth as I moved my head down, taking it in deeper, until I felt it in my throat. I repeated this movement, until my jawbone started hurting, then took it out of my mouth to rest a moment and looked at him; he was really enjoying it, and I loved it. I wet my fingers with that mixture of saliva and pre-cum and moved them to his entrance.

  "Drew..." he whispered my name, but I didn't want to listen. I thrust a finger inside and went back down on him. His body curled up following my rhythm, and I could feel his pleasure growing. I put another finger in, pressing to his walls, and I sucked harder. "Drew, I'm close..." he said, but I didn't want to move away just yet. "I can't... hold back..." I waited until the last second, and as soon as I took it out of my mouth, he came in my face. Had it happened to me, I would have probably felt shamefully bad in his place, but from my point of view it was all extremely arousing. A drop of it slowly dripped on my lips and I licked it, closing my eyes to savor the taste and impress it in my memory. It was a bit sour, and reminded me of when I had kissed him, after he had done it to me; only, it was more intense. "Drew..." I opened my eyes and looked at him. Tied up, sweating, hot and completely exposed: I couldn't resist anymore. I took my shirt off, ignoring the pain in my ribs, and used it to clean up my face. Then I put down my pants, revealing to him how hard I was, how much I wanted him. I slightly raised his tights up and pressed my tip to his entrance. "Nh," he held back a wail of pain; his muscles hadn't stretched nearly enough. Again… why is he not stopping me?