by Aiden Bates
Carmela made a face. "Come on, Derek. I can't even remember how to speak English."
Derek sighed and took Carmela's hand. "You know that will come back to you, right? Dr. Radic has talked to you about that?"
Carmela made a face. "She's made some noise about how I shouldn't worry about it, but come on. I could speak English when I talked to the cops and got help."
"Right. That's how trauma works, sometimes. You found the strength to do what you needed to do when push came to shove, when you absolutely had to speak English. You held steady through that whole, miserable mess. When you were safe, your mind, your brain, decided it was okay for you to process everything you'd been through. This is one of the ways it's doing that. I told you before, when everything happened with me, I didn't speak at all—in any language—for months."
She nodded. "But you got better."
"Eventually. And I wasn't anything like as strong as you."
She looked over at him. "Can I ask?"
Derek's gut tightened and twisted. He didn't want to talk about his crap. Carmela didn't need that on her plate. Still, she'd asked. He didn't want her to feel like he thought she was incompetent. "Yeah. My dad, he, ah. He killed my mom. I was there." He shuddered away from the memory. "My grandparents tried to take care of me for a little while, but they weren't exactly prizes themselves, so I wound up in the system. It happens."
"Oh." She looked down again. "I'm really sorry."
A tear ran down Derek's cheek. "Thanks. He's still in jail. Every once in a while he comes up for parole. They always deny it." He rubbed at his face. Dad was locked away, and so were the Greer brothers, and no one was showing up with a gun to shoot him. Or Carmela, or anyone else. Everything was fine.
"But you got better?"
"Mostly." Derek grinned at her. "It wasn't always easy, you know? But I'm here now. I've got a career that I love. I've got Amadi, and his family. They're awesome. I've got enough money to live my life, you know? I'm not a lawyer," he laughed, "and I don't want to be. But I've got a pretty good life, if I do say so."
She nodded, but she still looked doubtful. "So what you're saying is that it gets better."
"Eventually." He bit his tongue for a moment. "It doesn't get better overnight. What you have right now, though, is people who want to help you and who do care about you. You've got me, you've got Ms. Myles and Dr. Radic, you've got Alex and Dr. Wade. You've got Ms. Brennan, too. I don't know her well, but I'm willing to bet she'd move heaven and earth to make sure someone in your position was safe and comfortable."
She looked up at him, sharp and suspicious. "Were you listening in?"
"No!" He pressed his hand to his chest. "I'm not that guy. I respect your privacy."
"She said exactly those words." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did she go telling you?"
"No." Derek understood her suspicion. "No, she told me what I needed to know and that's it. She respects your privacy too." He winked. "It just made sense, and so we both said the same thing."
Carmela relaxed, just a little bit. That paranoia would last for a while, most likely, and why not? She'd spent months in a situation where everyone really had been out to get her. That didn't go away just like flipping a switch.
Alex stopped by the next evening, after work. They had dinner together, and once Carmela retreated to her own room Alex turned to Derek. "Does she go because she feels she has to, or because she wants to?"
Derek stared after her. "She wants to. She's not comfortable around most men, and any display of attraction makes her nervous right now." He held up a hand when Alex opened his mouth. "She understands why she's reacting that way, and she doesn't expect other people to stop living their lives. She's retreating, for now, until she feels more comfortable with it. And that's okay."
Alex pulled back. "I'm sorry. I just feel kind of weird about making her uncomfortable in her own home."
Derek ruffled Alex’s hair a little bit. "That's one of the things I like about you. She's okay with it."
Alex cast another doubtful glance down the hallway toward Carmela's room, and then he looked back to Derek. "I can't believe Ayla's back. That's just so…"
"Right? I think it's almost as much of a shock for her." Derek actually thought it was more of a shock for Ayla, but he didn't think saying so would be constructive right now. "How are you doing?"
"I don't know." Alex rubbed at his temples. "I've got all these questions. And I'm trying to be good, and not to pry. I know she'll tell me in her own time, but damn it, I'm her brother. I want to know. I want to know what I've missed. I want to know why law. I want to know what she's been through. I want to know what she needs now. I want to know who she is now. I have no idea, you know? I need to know, and I can't know, and I think it might be killing me."
Derek pursed his lips and let Alex rest his head on his lap. He ran his hand through Alex’s hair as he spoke. "You already know the answers to a lot of that. Well, you know what I'd say," he amended with a grin. "You've got to give her time. Which you're doing. There are some things she might never share, because she thinks she's protecting you. You can't do anything about them now, so telling you wouldn't do anything but get you upset."
"I know." Alex dropped his voice to a whisper. "That's why I'm not saying anything."
"You're a good brother." Derek continued to comb his fingers through Alex’s silky hair. "How was dinner last night?"
"It was pretty good. I don't mind telling you. I can't even say how incredible it was to see Ayla and Ivy seeing each other again for the first time." He smiled a dreamy little smile. "I mean that was just beautiful."
"And they're getting along okay now?" Derek didn't know Ivy from anyone else on the street. He kind of knew what she looked like, since Alex had mentioned she and Ayla were identical twins, but he didn't know her at all.
"Yeah, they're out right now having some 'twin time.' They've got twenty years to catch up on, you know?" Alex sighed and looked toward the window, sadness coming into his eyes.
"Hey. You made that possible." Derek gave him a little nudge. "They're twins. That's a whole separate, special relationship."
"I know." He closed his eyes for a second, and Derek stroked his face. "I always used to envy that, you know? They were twins, which made them special, and then they had this super-special bond between them that made them even more special. I was just Alex." He opened his eyes and twisted his lips into a wry grimace. "Then Ayla was taken, and I didn't envy Ivy anything." He shuddered. "Our uncle wanted them both to come over, but Ivy had a soccer game."
"My God." Derek's chest hurt to just think about that. "The amount of guilt she must have lived with."
"Oh yeah. There aren't words, you know? Just no words." Alex sat up again. "I shouldn't be so damn maudlin about all this. My sister is alive and well. That's all that matters."
"But there's still a lot of baggage that goes along with that." Derek straightened up. "Don't push that off to the side. It's always going to be there, you know? Even if you pretend it isn't."
Alex pulled Derek closer in to him. "What would I do without you, honestly?"
Derek huffed out a little laugh. "Sleep quieter for the past few years?"
Alex made a face. "Can we kind of pretend that didn't happen?" He touched his lips to Derek's, and Derek was more than happy to forget about their prior neighborly spats in favor of a little bit of making out.
Making out wasn't easy on Derek right now. His ribs were still healing, and he still got short of breath more easily than he would have liked. He typically liked to wrap both of his arms around a guy and hold on tight, but that wasn't feasible right now.
Making out with Alex, though, could almost make him forget about all of that. The heat of Alex’s body, even through their clothes, made him want even more. He couldn't think about the pain in his chest when he had the scent of Alex’s aftershave stuck in his nostrils.
Derek knew their relationship wasn't serious, and it didn't bother him. He'd enjo
y the kisses and little touches while he could. If things went further, he'd welcome it. And he would try to be there for Alex right now, not because he thought it would earn him some kind of long-term relationship but because it was the decent thing to do.
Now that Ayla was here and helping Carmela, the district attorney was able to move forward with the case against the Greer Brothers. Derek couldn't be happier about that. The sooner those guys were locked up for real, preferably someplace far away, the happier he'd be. Carmela had to testify for pre-trial motions, and she had to do it with opposing counsel present. All parties agreed that this should be done in the judge's chambers. Carmela agreed, because she didn't want to have a confrontational interview in her home.
Derek went with her, and Carmela drove. Dr. Radic went along as well, because she knew her services would be needed.
Judge Finochetti was a middle-aged man with a large paunch. He seemed reasonably sympathetic to Carmela, but he didn't show any favoritism. He had to allow opposing counsel to have a translator, and he had to allow them to ask questions of the poor girl. The questions were brutal.
Opposing counsel attacked Carmela's sexual history. They attacked her mental health—after all, could a child who couldn't even remember how to speak English possibly be expected to remember the facts clearly about her voluntary involvement with prostitution? They accused her of using drugs and accused her of sleeping with Derek for her rent.
Ayla objected to each of these attacks, and Judge Finochetti sustained each of her objections, but the damage was done. Ayla was reduced to tears by the time the hearing was over. Opposing counsel sat there with smug little smirks on their faces, and Derek had to swallow back his rage. He'd never been a violent man, but he'd have sold his soul for a two by four right now.
Ayla put a hand on his arm as Dr. Radic escorted Carmela from the room. "It's not worth it," she told him. "That's just how defense attorneys treat survivors, especially survivors of color. There's nothing we can do about it."
Derek pressed his lips together. He still wanted to hit those bastards. "Can I file a lawsuit?"
She blinked at him. "Excuse me?"
"They accused me, in front of witnesses, of extorting sex from a child for rent. That's a false accusation of pedophilia that can damage my livelihood."
"Hm. I'll look into that." She relaxed, just a little bit, as the attorneys for the Greer brothers oozed out of the courtroom. "You'll never see a dime from them, of course."
"Not from the Greers, but from their attorneys." He glared after them. "I don't even care about the money, I'd just pass it on to Carmela anyway. I just want to wipe those looks off their faces."
She smiled at him, even though her smile was tired. "A noble goal." Her shoulders relaxed a little bit. "I don't know if I've had a chance to thank you yet. You've stood up for Carmela and represented her best interests better than any non-lawyer I've ever seen. Have you done this before?"
Derek blushed. "No. I came up through the system, though. I kind of know what to look for."
She nodded. "Well, you're good at it. Carmela is very lucky she found you. I'm serious. I wish there'd been someone like you looking out for me when I got free." She looked toward the window.
Derek followed her gaze. "I wish there had been too. I don't know the particulars, but everyone deserves to have someone in their court." He met her eyes. "I can't give you that back. I'm here now, though."
She blinked a few times, he realized she was blinking back tears. "You know, I believe you really are."
***
Alex let a couple of days go by before he reached out to Ayla again. He didn't want to overwhelm his sister. He did want to make sure she knew he loved her and welcomed her, no matter what. He knew she had some issues around what she'd been forced to do, some beliefs about herself, and he suspected she might need more than a one-time declaration of love and adoration.
So he reached out a couple of days after her "twin day" with Ivy, sending her a text. Hey, do you want to get together this weekend? I'd really like to see you again.
His stomach twisted itself into knots as he waited for her to reply. What if she was going back to Albany for the weekend? What if she just didn't want to see her terrible older brother who hadn't given her anything but trouble?
He operated on a car accident victim. When he got out of surgery, he found a text waiting for him. That would be nice. Do you mind if Derek comes along, and Carmela?
Alex frowned. This was family business. Derek might be the hottest thing since sliced bread, but he wasn't family. Carmela might be a frightened and traumatized girl, but she wasn't a Brennan.
Then Alex brought himself up short, complete with a little slap to his own face. He was being a jealous ass. He needed to remember that Ayla's needs, when it came to family, had to come first. The Brennans had been hurt by her abduction, but they'd also been allowed to go forward and live relatively normal lives. They hadn't been sold some kind of bill of goods about their own impurity.
Derek might not be a therapist, or even have a high school diploma, but he was damn easy to talk to and he knew what he was talking about. If Ayla felt more comfortable bringing him along, then by God, she could have him there.
Of course, he told her.
They agreed to meet up at a nearby restaurant, because it was a neutral setting. Alex suggested it, with a little bit of prodding from Derek, but Ayla's relief was palpable when Alex said it. They agreed to hit Lock 24, because it was local and it had vegetarian food. Carmela asked if Amadi could stay at home with her, because she didn't feel quite comfortable being out in the open like that yet.
Alex swallowed his disappointment, but he didn't mind if it was okay with Derek and Ayla. They both agreed that if Carmela wasn't ready to go out in public like that, she didn't have to. She could stay at home if Amadi was available. Amadi, as it turned out, had plans with his girlfriend Rashida, but Rashida was more than willing to come over and hang out with Carmela and Amadi.
Ayla hesitated at that, but Carmela didn't have a problem with it and Derek put his feet up. "Look, I've known Rashida for years. She's not going to harm Carmela. She'll guard Carmela with her very life."
And so they gathered, along with Ivy, at Lock 24 on Saturday. Alex arrived with Derek first, and then Carmela and Ivy showed up next. They got a seat outside on the deck, and made small talk until the food came, and then Ayla sat back and stared at the river for a moment. "I know what you both want to know," she said when she was ready to speak. "I'd order vodka for this, but I know Derek doesn't drink and he can't drive either. I'd hate to be rude. So we get to do this solo." She winked at Derek, whose cheeks colored up over his little beard.
"It's probably better that way," she said after a second. "I don't drink myself. It just numbs things for a little while. Then you're left feeling worse than you did before, and with a hangover to boot. Anyway."
Ivy reached across the table to take her hand. "Whenever you're ready," she said.
Ayla squeezed the hand. "So you already know I went over to Uncle Rick's place. When I got there, when Mom and Dad left, there was a guy waiting in the back room. He had dark tan skin, I think he was probably Italian. I could be wrong. He came out of the back room and looked me over, and he said, 'She'll do.'
"Rick apologized to me. I had no idea what he was apologizing for. Even before the big, smelly guy loaded me into his Cadillac, I knew no apology could ever make up for it." Ayla looked down.
"I had to ride all the way down to New York City in the trunk of his car. He sold me that same night, to some Russians. They got a lot of money for my first time. After that, they got less for me. The one who was in charge of me, Sergei, he said it was because I was used goods."
Ivy covered her mouth with both hands. Alex couldn't feel anything. Ayla hadn't gotten graphic, but her tone had shifted to a dead, almost robotic version of her voice that couldn't be healthy. Derek reached over with his good hand and put it on Ayla's.
"They
say that a lot. They're trying to keep you under control." He gave her hand a little squeeze.
"I know." Her tone found some life again. She still sounded devastated, but she was a little better than she had been. "I think it might have carried more weight because Sergei was an Orthodox priest, and I'd grown up Orthodox." She rubbed at her temples. "Even priests can go bad, I guess, but I still can't even look at a church."
"Who could blame you?" Alex himself hadn't set foot in a church since Ayla's disappearance, but this was so much worse.
"They held me for four years." Ayla closed her eyes. Alex saw that she was skipping over a whole world of horror with those six words, but he didn't want to press her. He could fill in those years very well, thank you. "When I was fourteen, I got sick. They dumped me at a hospital in Trenton in the middle of the night. They didn't think I'd make it long enough to tell anyone where I'd been, and I was pretty complacent. You had to be, if you wanted to keep your body and soul together."
