Give Yourself Away (28 page)

“You hear that?” March nudged him.

Caleb had heard what Rod said. He was having trouble taking it in.

“I’m just going to do a test area first to check you react okay.”

Breathe.

“You want me to use topical anesthetic?” Rod asked.

“No.”
One word. I managed one word.

“Does it hurt?” March asked.

“It’s like snapping a rubber band against your skin,” Rod said.

No it fucking isn’t.

Caleb clenched his teeth together as Rod moved the laser over his back. He’d passed the initial test, and Rod had launched into the actual treatment. It felt like he was drawing the same words on him that Liam had.

“If there was one standard ink, tattoo removal would be much easier,” Rod said. “But there are over a hundred types, so it’s difficult to predict how resistant a tattoo will be.”

Why isn’t he asking me why I have such filth on my back?

“If they don’t go completely, can they be tattooed over?” March asked.

“When the skin’s healed, yes.”

“You can have that clump of grass you always wanted,” March said.

Caleb zoned out. It did hurt, but in a strange way he liked that it did because it was as if each zap pulled something bad out of him. He should have consulted someone sooner. The difference this time was March, who sat in the far corner, lounging in the chair with his legs crossed, safety glasses in place like the ones Caleb wore. He felt guilty for having doubted him yesterday. March wouldn’t lie to him or cheat on him.

When Rod had finished and a dressing was applied, Caleb sat up. He ached and his back was stinging as if he’d spent too long in the sun. Not that his back had ever been exposed to the sun. Rod left the room and March helped Caleb dress again.

“Well done,” March said. “You only whimpered seventeen times.”

“Why didn’t he ask me why I’d had the tattoos done?”

“I told them not to when I made the appointment. I said you’d had them done under duress and they were not to ask you anything about them and that I would be with you at all times.”

“They’ll think—”

“Who gives a fuck what they think? It has nothing to do with them.”

At the reception desk, Caleb took out his wallet and March pushed his hand away. “Let me pay.”

“No.”

March put his fingers on Caleb’s arm. “Please. Let me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Caleb said loud enough for Rod to hear where he stood in the corner.

“I know, but this is something I can help fix, so let me.”

Caleb sighed, then nodded. He arranged another appointment for seven weeks’ time and they left.

“How do you feel?” March asked.

“Battered.”

“Do you want to stay the night in a hotel? I was thinking we could go for a meal, go to a club, but you’re supposed to take it easy. I could drive us home.”

“Would you mind driving us home?”

“Course not.”

“Maybe we could change the reservation to the night before my next appointment, then we could go to a club. Assuming…”

“Assuming what? That we’re still together?”

“No.” Though that was what Caleb had been thinking. “Assuming I’ve taught you how to dance.”

March laughed.

Caleb was relieved when March pulled up on the drive outside his cottage. His back ached and he wanted to go to bed even though it was only just after seven. March carried all the bags in from the car and dropped them in the hall.

“Would you like a drink? Hot chocolate? Beer? Something to eat?” March asked.

Weird but Caleb had the distinct feeling March was avoiding looking at him.

“Hot chocolate would be nice.” Caleb sat on the couch and watched him.

When March handed him the mug then sat on the chair instead of next to him on the couch, Caleb’s heart dropped onto his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.

“I lied to you.”

Caleb’s hand shook and he put the mug on the floor.

March looked across at him. “I thought I had a good reason for lying, but I don’t want to be the sort of person who doesn’t tell you the truth.”

Caleb’s mind raced in a thousand directions.

March put his drink down. “I went to see Jasim yesterday.”

Caleb didn’t think he could have been more shocked, unless maybe March had said Liam’s name. He leaned back, then lurched forward when it hurt.

“Why did you do that?” Caleb whispered. “You had no right. I promised Jasim and…” A sob burst from his throat.

March came to sit next to him and Caleb shifted to the far end of the couch.

“Caleb, we had to know if it was him sending the roses, him who’d killed Simon and stabbed Mike.”

“We?
We
didn’t have to know anything. I promised him. He killed for me.”

“I know he did. I didn’t tell him that I knew.”

“He’ll guess. He’s not stupid. How did you know where he lives?”

“I paid a private detective.”

Caleb let out a long groan.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you angry.”

“You lied. If you’d just come out and told me…but you lied. All that crap about the Viking burial site. I was…”
Scared.
Caleb bit off the word. Disappointment filtered into every cell. The weight that had lifted from his shoulders came creeping back.

“Jasim gave me an idea of who might be behind it.”

Caleb lifted his head. “So you were going to play the hero and deal with it without bothering me?” He saw from the fleeting expression of guilt on March’s face that he’d been right. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, to control me, to fucking save me. You can tell me you called Annabel and told her you’re gay, but you couldn’t be bothered to tell me you’d looked for Jasim? You’re an idiot. You’ve wrecked everything.”

He pushed to his feet and marched upstairs. It wouldn’t take long to pack. He’d just fill the car again.

When he came downstairs, March blocked the front door.

“Get out of the way,” Caleb snapped.

“I don’t want you to leave. I know you’re angry and I’m sorry. Let’s sit and talk about this. Jasim suggested it might be the cameraman.”

That brought Caleb up short. “I never saw his face.” He’d always had it covered.

“He was Liam’s brother.” March reached for his arm and he pulled away. “Please, Caleb. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe. I didn’t intend to upset you.”

“Then you should have told me what you wanted to do and not lied when you’d already done it. Get out of the way.”

“Don’t go.”

But March moved aside.

Maybe if he hadn’t, Caleb would have stayed. Maybe if he’d tried harder to persuade him. But he didn’t. Caleb couldn’t bear the thought of going up and down stairs for the rest of his stuff.

“I’ll come back and get my other things and leave the key then.”

By the time he reached the car, tears were rolling down his cheeks. He had to stop partway down the road because he couldn’t see to drive. He wanted to go back. He shouldn’t have run. He’d behaved like a kid throwing a tantrum. March hadn’t set out to hurt him. But he’d not come after him either.

Caleb swallowed hard. A night apart to think wouldn’t do them any harm. He set off again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

March picked up the two mugs of chocolate and tipped the remains down the sink. He’d rinsed the mugs and put them in the dishwasher before the cry burst through the blockage in his throat. He clung on to the sink and stood with his head bowed and shoulders shaking. It was hard to convince himself he’d done the right thing when Caleb was no longer beside him.

He could have kept quiet and Caleb would never have known, but he wished he’d told him the truth right at the start because March hadn’t wanted there to be secrets between them. Maybe he should have talked to him about finding Jasim, but March had wanted to make things right in Caleb’s world without further worrying him. He thought about the distress on Caleb’s face as he stood in the hall, the look of betrayal in his eyes, and March’s fingers tightened on the sink. He shouldn’t have let him leave.

And how was I supposed to stop him?
The worst thing to do would be to force Caleb into anything, especially physically.

Maybe they weren’t meant to be. Maybe they’d clung to each other because of what happened. But March didn’t want to believe that. He pulled out his phone.

He’d guessed Caleb wouldn’t answer but he left a message. “I’m sorry. You told me you didn’t need me to mend you and I didn’t listen. But I need you to mend me. Please come home.” There was a lot more he wanted to say, but he ended the call.

March lay on the couch wondering what to do. If Liam’s brother, Derry Fitzpatrick, was the stalker, he was dangerous and the police ought to be told. But that meant opening up Caleb’s past.

If the detective agency came back with an address, what was he going to do? Go and talk to Fitzpatrick? He’d deny everything.

Maybe he could get a sample of the guy’s DNA, give it anonymously to the police and hope they could at least connect him to the attack on Mike. But would the police, with no other details, even follow up?

I shouldn’t have let Caleb leave. I should have taken his car keys.

March pushed to his feet and took the laptop from his bag. He typed in the words
Liam Fitzpatrick
…
caretaker
…
suicide
…
brother
and waited.

Caleb drove to Jamie’s without calling him. If Jamie wasn’t in, then he’d wait. Caleb could have found a B and B, but he wanted to be with someone. He’d trusted March with the biggest secret of his life, one that, if revealed, would hurt someone else, and March had lied to him. There was no way Jasim would think March didn’t know what he’d done.

Why did I tell him?
Caleb gripped the wheel so tightly his hands hurt. Yeah, he knew why he’d told him, but he’d made a mistake. He should have taken that secret to his grave. He should have taken all his secrets to the grave. He would have if he hadn’t met March.

Jamie opened the door dressed up in his clubbing gear, eye makeup on. He looked down at the bag in Caleb’s hand and groaned.

“Can I stay the night?” Caleb asked.

“I was hoping to get lucky. It’s a bit of a mood killer when I bring a guy back and there’s already a cute one sleeping on my couch.”

“Please, Jamie.”

“Oh fuck it, fine.” He pulled the door wider. “What happened this time?”

“I just need some space.”

Jamie put his hands on his hips. “That’s all I’m going to get? No juicy details?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“You look a bit pasty. You want me stay in?”

Caleb was touched by the offer, though he knew what Jamie expected him to say. “No, you go out. I’m fine. You over Paul?”

“So over him. God, he really fancied you though. If I see him, are you interested?”

“No.” There was only one person who interested Caleb.

Once Jamie left, Caleb settled on the couch. He replayed everything that had been said and done and considered whether he’d overreacted. He should have at least talked to March, not just slammed out, particularly because that might have put March in danger. What if the stalker paid him a visit, left another rose? How did this bastard know when Caleb had a falling-out with a guy?

He took out his phone. One message from March. He listened to it, took a deep breath and phoned him.

“Caleb. Are you okay?”

“No, of course I’m not okay.”

March sighed. “I mean safe. Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m safe.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I understand why you went to Jasim, but you shouldn’t have. I understand why you lied, but you shouldn’t have done that either.”

“Come home. Please.”

“I need to be on my own tonight. I just wanted to tell you to be careful. Lock the doors, the windows. Put on that alarm you never seem to use.”

“Why?”

“Because…you’re not allowed to hurt me.” Caleb wondered if he’d understand.

“Oh shit.”

“I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck it, where are you? Let me come to you.”

“Not tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Caleb?”

“What?”

“I won’t go swimming under the ice.”

Caleb ended the call with a smile on his face.

There was no way he’d be able to sleep. His mind raced. He grabbed the remote, put on the TV and groaned when he saw what was on offer. He pushed to his feet and ran his finger down Jamie’s stack of DVDs, then picked one at random.
Dirty Dancing
. When he pressed the button he thought would open the DVD player, instead it started to play and the screen was filled with a naked Jamie lying on the bed, tugging at his cock. Caleb winced and switched it off. He took out his lenses and threw them away. He’d been premature in ordering clear ones.

He was dozing when he heard the door open. There was no giggling from Jamie so Caleb assumed he hadn’t picked anyone up. He kept his eyes closed because he didn’t want to put up with a barrage of conversation, but felt a draft of air over his face.

“Hey, wake up.”

Not Jamie. Caleb opened his eyes to see Paul smiling down at him.

What the hell?

“Jamie said you were on your own.”

Oh fuck it.
“Not really.” Caleb pushed himself to a sitting position, wincing as his back stung.

Paul looked around. “I don’t see anyone else.”

“I was just about to head home.” Caleb stood and pulled down his sweater.

Crap. He was so much smaller than Paul.

Paul stepped into his space and every hair on Caleb’s body tingled. That lemony scent.
Where have I…?

“There’s a party down at the marina. A room above the bar. Birthday party. Jamie told me to persuade you to come. He says no one there can dance.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Go on. It’ll be fun. I’ve got my car outside. Jamie told me you’re a really good dancer. I’ve two left feet, me, but I do like to watch.”

Something in the way he said “watch” made Caleb tremble.

“What did you go to prison for?” Caleb asked and wished he hadn’t.

“Jamie been talking? I didn’t need to tell him but I believe in being honest. Theft. I did my time twice and I won’t be going back. You ever been locked up?”

“No.” Caleb could hear warning sirens screaming in his head.

“If you’re not going to come, call Jamie and tell him because he’s going to give me grief if I don’t turn up with you.”

Caleb wondered if he was overreacting, seeing problems where there were none. But right at that moment, all he wanted was to be with March, sorting out this mess, not running away from it. He’d run from London and trouble had followed him. Maybe it was time to stand still.

“Please call Jamie.”

Caleb called him.

“Hi,” Jamie shouted.

It was hard to hear with the loud music blaring in the background.

“Did you send Paul to get me?”

“Yeah. Gave him a key. Thought he’d cheer you up. I told you he was always going on about you.”

“I don’t feel like a party. Paul insisted I call to tell you I’m not coming.” Caleb’s heart pounded and his grip on the phone tightened as he gave Paul a shrug and nodded toward the door.

“Got a bit of a headache,” Caleb said.

If Paul didn’t leave, Caleb was going to scream at Jamie to call the police. But Paul
did
leave. Caleb locked the door and leaned back against it.

“Paul’s just left. What does he do for a living?”

“Electrician.”

Caleb sucked in a breath. That was okay but… “Did he make that film of you that’s in your DVD player?”

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see that. Though my arse looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Did he?”

“Yes.”

Something bubbled in the dark of Caleb’s stomach, the seed of an idea beginning to germinate, pushing its way toward the light.

“Do you know his surname?” Caleb asked.

“Stevens. Why?”

Maybe nothing, maybe something.
“What did he go to prison for?”

“Nothing violent he said. He’s rough but he’s not nasty. Just try a date with him. He’s good in bed.”

“He dumped you. Why are you suddenly being nice?”

“Found someone better.” Jamie giggled.

“Are you really at a party at the marina?”

“Yep, it’s great. Come on. It’ll do you good to get out.”

“No, I really don’t want to come.”

Caleb put his phone in his pocket. Some pieces of the puzzle fit, others didn’t. Paul’s interest in him was alarming, yet Jamie trusted him and he’d left when Caleb asked him to. Was Paul Liam’s brother? Or just a random guy who fancied him? Every time Caleb thought Paul was nothing to worry about, another concern crept in. He chewed the edge of a fingernail.

If Paul was Liam’s brother, what did he want? To know how Caleb got out, how Liam died? If he was an unrelated stalker, had he killed Simon, tried to kill Mike? Paul had been at Victor’s party. Jamie had said that Paul had left him that night and then gone back. The coward in Caleb kept him in the apartment, but his anxiety started him pacing.

He wanted March. He wanted to be sure March was safe. For all he knew, Paul was at March’s place right now. In the end, the fear of anything happening to March was what pulled him out of Jamie’s flat. He left a just-in-case note for Jamie, picked up his bag and crept back to where he’d left his car.

Only for Paul to appear out of nowhere.
Fuck.

The hard punch in Caleb’s stomach took him by surprise. He doubled over gasping, knowing he needed to run but unable to make his legs work. Even as he tried to get moving, he felt a sharp prick in his neck and the world went black.

March jerked awake from where he’d fallen asleep on the couch, aware something had disturbed him. Light poured in through the window and he realized he’d spent all night downstairs. He sat up and checked his phone. There was no message from Caleb, but there was from the detective agency.

March found himself looking at a photo of Derry Fitzpatrick. A guy who looked no more than five years older than he was. He had a shaven head, a fleshy face and he looked mean.

A ring at the doorbell sent him racing to answer it. He’d convinced himself it was Caleb, so when March pulled the door open and saw a middle-aged guy he didn’t recognize, he sagged.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were in,” said the guy. “This is for you.” He held out a single red rose.

March took a step back but spotted a florist’s van parked a little way down the drive.

“Who sent it?” March asked. “Is there a card?”

“Yeah. Take it.” The man waggled the rose.

“What does it say?”

The guy rolled his eyes and turned the card over. “I’m the only one allowed to hurt him.”

“Oh fuck. Can you trace who sent it? An email address? Bank details?”

“My daughter took the order. The guy came into the shop yesterday. He paid cash. I did wonder about that message, which is why I’m delivering it and not my wife. Is there some problem?”

“Can you call your daughter and ask her what the guy looked like?”

The man hesitated and then took out his phone. “Hi, Lindy. The guy who paid for that single rose, what did he look like?

“Uh-huh…big, no hair. Okay, thanks.”

“Wait,” March said. “Can I email her a photo?”

A few minutes later, March had his answer. Derry Fitzpatrick, Liam’s brother, was the one sending the roses, was likely the one who’d killed Simon and stabbed Mike. As the bewildered florist drove off, March called Caleb. There was no answer.

“Caleb. Call me as soon as possible. Even better, come over here. I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

Back in the house, he sat and read through the information the detective agency had sent. Derry Fitzpatrick had a dead brother called Liam. Derry served time in prison—first for theft and then for manslaughter. Almost three and half years. Shit. The reason nothing had happened after the death of Simon was because this guy had gone to prison. He tried Caleb again and again, growing more and more concerned when he didn’t answer.

What the fuck am I going to do?
Even if he contacted the police and told them everything, what could they do? But he couldn’t just sit there.

His phone rang again and he almost dropped it. The number was unknown.

“Hello?”

“Is that March?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know me. My name’s Jamie.”

March exhaled. “Caleb’s friend. He’s talked about you. Is he with you? Can I speak to him?”

“He’s not here. He was here last night. I didn’t get back until this morning and I found a note. I sent Paul to persuade Caleb to come to a party, but he didn’t want to. Paul didn’t come back to the party, but I didn’t think anything of it until this morning and I saw this note. Caleb said I was to call you and if he wasn’t there with you, you were to worry.”

“Oh fuck.” March slumped against the wall.

“What the hell’s happening?”

“Where does Paul live?”

“Dorchester. But I never went to his place.”

“Give me his phone number.”

March stored it in his phone.

“Paul really liked Caleb,” Jamie said, a catch in his voice. “He was always asking about him when he was with me. I think he wanted him at Victor’s party but Caleb left, so he made do with me. And that night Mike was attacked, Paul persuaded me to say he was with me all night but he wasn’t. Did he stab Mike? Fuck it. Why are you supposed to worry? What’s happening? Is Caleb all right?”