Nobody’s Hero (8 page)

Chapter Ten

Brad should have known better than to answer his phone.

“You’ve been avoiding us. I’m disappointed. You were raised better.”

“Mother.”

She talked over his acknowledgement. “We need to settle the arrangements for your brother’s appeal. I’ve booked a flight for you the first week of August. That will give us some time to prepare a united family front. Your father and I are hosting a party that weekend, as well. You’ll be expected to attend. No doubt you no longer have appropriate attire, so we’ll have to get you in for a fitting.”

“Mother.”

“Lorraine Stanton’s daughter, Francesca, is back from Europe and we decided you will escort her to the party. It’s a great opportunity to reintroduce you both to our circle.”

“Mother!”

“Bradley, there’s no reason to raise your voice. I don’t understand. You don’t want to escort Francesca? I suppose I can see if Paula Foerster’s daughter, Jeanie, is available.”

“No, Mother, just no. I’m not going to come back for Nolan’s appeal. I’m not going to get fitted for ‘appropriate’ attire. I’m not going to escort anyone’s daughter to some party.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

“I don’t know how you got this number, but I’d appreciate it if you’d forget it.”

“Bradley—”

He disconnected the call. Two deep breaths and a quick count to ten later and he still had to force the rage and frustration down. He powered the phone all the way off and shoved it back into his pocket.

Every single time. A word, an email, whatever, from his mother and he completely lost his shit.

He needed to get away. He couldn’t stand the thought of spending the entire weekend holed up in this little apartment with nothing to do but remember.

He pulled out his phone and called Danny. “Is it too late to join you on the camping trip?”

* * *

“Are you sure about this? I feel like a freeloader.” Brad set his duffel bag on the bed and then pulled a pair of jeans out of the armoire. He’d accepted the invitation without thinking and now he wasn’t so sure this was the smart thing to do.

When Danny didn’t respond, Brad looked over. Danny sat cross-legged on the other side of the bed, staring at the quilt. “Danny?”

Danny glanced up. “Dude, do you make your bed like this every morning?”

“Um, yeah?”

“You could bounce a quarter off the blanket. I bet you use hospital corners too.”

“Military school,” Brad reminded him.

Danny shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it. I mean, sure, it created the habit maybe, but you’re not there anymore. I bet you’ve always been a bit of a neat freak.”

Okay, there was some truth to that. He’d always been tidy and well-ordered, but sure, it may have gotten worse the last few years. He ignored the little voice in his head whispering scary terms like
OCD
and
anxiety
. Brad set the jeans neatly in the bag. “Don’t you make your bed in the morning?”

“Yeah, sort of. I mean, usually I just tug the covers back into place, nothing like this. The only time I make-make the bed is when my mom washes the sheets each week.”

Tucking a couple of rolls of socks into the bag, Brad eyed Danny. “Your mom still does your laundry?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like I ask her or anything. She just does it.”

“Seriously, though,” Brad said, stopping his packing, “I’m not sure about this.” His reasons for saying no in the first place hadn’t disappeared.

“You need to relax. It’s a camping trip. We have the gear, we have the food, so you’re not a mooch. It’s not like you’ve got anything else going on this weekend. I mean, what would you do, iron your underwear?”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Brad called over his shoulder as he bent to pull his running shoes out from under the bed.

“Probably not,” Danny agreed, straightening his legs and hopping to his feet.

Brad did a quick double-check of the contents of the bag, then zipped it up. “I think I’m set.” He slung the nylon strap of the bag across one shoulder and patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys.

“Damn, who’s the hottie?”

Brad turned around to see Danny peering at his laptop monitor.

“Huh?”

Danny tilted the computer toward Brad.

He dropped his bag and snapped the laptop closed. “What are you doing on my computer? You don’t have the right to poke into my business.”

Damn it. He’d meant to close the browser. The screen held an article from a regional sports website with a full-color image of Carson. After the call from his mother, he hadn’t been able to resist trying to find information on his ex.

“I wasn’t poking at anything. When you ditched the bag, it knocked into the desk and your screen saver disappeared. This was up on the monitor. Overreacting much?”

Brad sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, man.”

Danny lowered the top of the laptop and leaned back, linking his fingers behind his neck. “I take it there’s a story there?”

“You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Brad snorted. “Fuck no.”

“All righty, then.” Danny slapped him across the back as he stepped to the door and swung it open. “We’ve got an entire weekend to ignore the serious crap and chill. We’ll sit back and commune with nature or some shit.”

Maybe nature would help him forget about his mother’s demands, forget about Carson. It couldn’t hurt. He’d already tried everything else he could think of.

* * *

“Want to take a break?” Danny asked as the cover of trees cleared to reveal a raised bench on a high overlook facing the lake. They’d been wandering the hiking trails for about an hour, chatting about the land and the view. The fresh air and the casual conversation provided a decent distraction.

“Sure.” Brad shrugged out of his backpack and scooted onto the seat. He snagged the bottle of water from a side pocket, twisted off the cap and took a deep swallow as Danny settled in next to him. Out from the shadow of the trees, he squinted in the glare of the summer sun and adjusted the bill of his cap.

“This place is amazing,” Brad said, taking another swig of water before recapping the bottle and dropping it into his bag. “Not the kind of place I’d expect you to like, though.”

“What? I don’t strike you as an outdoorsman?” Danny stretched his legs out in front of him and flexed his feet.

“You’ve got to admit, the red skinny jeans don’t scream Paul Bunyan.”

Danny brushed at the colored denim stretched across his thighs. “What? I love these jeans.”

So did Brad. They drew attention to Danny’s narrow hips and long legs. It was all Brad could do to keep from tripping over his feet while he stared at Danny’s ass in those jeans.

“And besides,” Danny continued, “it’s not like this is rugged camping or anything, what with the paved trails and wooden boardwalks.”

“Hell of a view, though.” Brad nodded at the lake, which was shining a deep teal in the afternoon sun.

The whir of spinning bike tires sounded along the path behind them. “That view’s not too bad, either,” Danny said, his gaze tracking the movement of a pair of shirtless men who zipped past them on mountain bikes.

“Dude, you need to be careful who you drool over. The one on the left could snap you in half without breaking a sweat.” The guys were showing off some seriously sexy muscles, but he preferred Danny’s tight, lean body.

Danny waved his concern aside. “They didn’t even notice us. Next bike that comes around the bend is your boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you ever play the boyfriend game? You know, first guy you see with a red shirt, or whatever, is your boyfriend.”

“No, I can honestly say I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Your education is sadly lacking.” Danny shook his head in mock sympathy. “You obviously didn’t attend many slumber parties as a kid. Or grow up surrounded by adolescent girls.”

“True.” Brad smirked. “I did not have slumber parties with adolescent girls. I take it you did?”

“Man, you met my family. I have girl cousins all over the place. Connie can tell you all about the boyfriend game. Speaking of...” His voice trailed off and he cocked his head to the side. A second later, Brad heard it too. The grip of rubber on asphalt.

Danny rubbed his hands together and nudged Brad with his elbow. “Aren’t you excited to meet your new boyfriend?”

“I’m all a-flutter.”

The cyclist who came around the bend was middle aged, heavyset and balding. He wore a yellow tank top that revealed a painful-looking sunburn. Under the generic gray safety helmet, his nose was covered in white cream. Danny’s face turned purple, his body practically seizing while he tried to hold in his laughter. When the yellow shirt was no longer visible, he broke. After what had to be nearly two minutes of nonstop giggling, he wheezed in a breath and gasped, “Quite a boyfriend.”

“What can I say?” Brad kept his tone bland. “It’s true love.” This set Danny off on another round of helpless guffaws.

“Speaking of hot men,” Danny said several minutes later as they stood up to start the return trek to the campsite, “I take it you have a thing for soccer players.”

“Soccer players?” It took a second, but it finally dawned on him Danny meant the picture of Carson on his laptop. “Oh, that. Not really. I mean, sure, what’s not to like, but that’s not why I read the article.”

“You were reading the article, not admiring the hottie? Isn’t that why we ‘read’ porn?”

Brad reached down, picked up a couple of rocks and rotated them in his hand like worry balls. “In this case, it’s true. The soccer player, the hottie, he’s my, well, my ex.”

Danny’s eyes grew wide. “Your ex? You dated him?”

“For a while, yeah, a couple of years ago.”

They’d gone a few yards when Danny asked, “Are you crazy or something?”

“What?” Brad stopped the monotonous shifting of the rocks in his hand.

“No one in their right mind would break up with that guy. He’s too pretty to let go.”

“Looks aren’t everything,” Brad said. “But we didn’t break up, not exactly.”

“How do you ‘not exactly’ break up with someone?”

“We never did the official breakup thing. It was sort of assumed, though, by everyone.”

“Why? What happened?” Danny stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face Brad.

He dropped the rocks, then dusted his palms on the front of his jeans. “Well, I figured it was probably over the night my brother tried to kill him.”

Chapter Eleven

“I’m sorry. Did you say your brother tried to kill your boyfriend? Like, literally?” The words circled in Danny’s head, an incomprehensible jumble of sounds.

He watched Brad kick at the loose dirt of the path, staring at the ground. Finally Brad looked up. “I shouldn’t have told you. It’s... My head’s all messed up.”

“Is it true?” Danny reached for Brad’s trembling hand, twining their fingers together.

Brad’s grip tightened convulsively. “Yeah.” His voice broke. “Shit. Yeah, he did.” His whole body slumped.

Danny pulled Brad toward a big boulder. “Come on, sit. Tell me about it?” He made the last sentence a request. It was obvious Brad needed to get some of this out, but he didn’t want to come off as demanding.

Brad scooted onto the boulder and folded his arms across his bent knees. Danny hopped up next to him. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. He sat there, waiting for Brad to start talking.

“Carson and I went to the same school, but our paths never really crossed. One day I heard my brother and a couple of his buddies going on about some fag club that had opened up downtown, and how ridiculous it was, how disgusting.” Brad rested his forehead against his arms.

“It got me thinking.” His voice was a little muffled. “I’ve known I was gay since I was fourteen, but I never said anything, especially not to my family. My brother, in particular, wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t accept. He loved me. I know he did. He looked out for me, protected me the way big brothers are supposed to. I loved him.” He lifted his head, showing red-rimmed gray eyes.

“Of course you did,” Danny reassured him.

“I was a coward. I didn’t want my brother to hate me, so I hid it from him.”

“You don’t mention your parents. You weren’t nervous about their reaction?”

Brad swiped a hand under his eyes, though there weren’t any tears to wipe away. “Not at the time. I mean, I knew they wouldn’t approve, but it was my brother I didn’t want to disappoint. I was deluding myself. I figured my parents were busy enough and disinterested enough in my life they wouldn’t notice what I did, as long as I didn’t get arrested.” His head fell back to his knees and he let out a weary chuckle. “Christ, that’s ironic.”

“How so?”

“I’m getting there,” Brad said. “Anyway, I overheard my brother talking shit about this club. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I decided I was going to go. A moment of rebellion or a moment of crazy. Who knows?”

After a long pause, Danny prompted, “You went to the club?”

“They had an underage night, no alcohol. Man, the place was amazing. Scary and cool, all at once. All these pretty boys dancing and hanging out, having a good time. I was as out of place there as I was at one of my parents’ parties, so I kind of hung out along the wall, watching. And I saw him.”

“Him?”

“Carson. The soccer hottie. My first thought was
shit!
Running into someone from school was not part of the plan. Not that I had a big plan, but, yeah, getting caught at a gay club freaked me out. What if he said something to someone? I spent the next hour watching him and debating whether or not I should say something. Finally I got my nerve up and approached him. I asked him to not say anything to anyone at school. He agreed and we got to talking. Things sort of grew from there. Next thing I know, we’re going out.”

“You didn’t tell your brother?” Danny stroked Brad’s back. Brad had begun to rock in place while he stared blankly at his shoes.

“I was too afraid. Carson and I kept it a secret. If someone asked where I was going or what I was doing, I would say I had a study group or something. At school I wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. No one could know. I even had a cheap cell phone my family didn’t know about.”

“And he—Carson—was okay with that?” Danny couldn’t imagine it. He wouldn’t date anyone who wasn’t out, at least to some extent.

“He tried to convince me to admit what was going on. He was already out to his friends and they were completely cool about it. He didn’t understand it wasn’t my friends I was worried about. I couldn’t face losing Nolan, and I would if I told him.”

Brad’s rocking grew faster, his words coming out in a staccato beat. “One day, when everyone was supposed to be gone, Carson and I were fooling around in my room. Suddenly my brother burst in with his friends right behind him. He wanted to borrow some money. When he saw Carson there—um, it was pretty clear what we were doing—he flipped out. He started yelling and going off on Carson. I was so scared. I’d never seen Nolan act like that. I couldn’t even speak. It was like the connection between my brain and my mouth was completely cut off. When he and his friends kicked Carson out of the house, I didn’t do or say anything.”

The pain and guilt in Brad’s voice ate at Danny. He wanted to do or say something—anything—to help, but he didn’t know what Brad needed or what he would accept. If it was someone in his family, there’d be hugs. But Brad tensed up whenever someone got too close.

They watched in silence as a pair of hikers passed by their rock. When they’d gone out of earshot, Brad continued his story. “That night Nolan and his friends beat the crap out of me. I’d never been hit before, never gotten into a fight, and I couldn’t believe my brother would do it. He said something about it not being my fault, but that I needed to be taught a lesson. Nolan told me a Greene shouldn’t get into such a position. He promised to take care of everything.”

Danny still didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know what he told my parents,” Brad continued after a brief pause. “They’d been out of town, but they raced home. Mother came unglued. She’s always been conservative, but when she found out I might be gay, that I’d been caught with a boy, I might as well have sacrificed virgins in honor of Satan on the White House lawn. The reaction was so over-the-top... I didn’t know she could be like that.” Brad shook his head as though he was trying to clear it. “Anyway, a week later I woke up to sirens and police. My brother and his friends were being arrested for assault. They tried to burn Carson alive. It was only luck some lady was out walking her dog and saw the smoke. She was able to save him.”

Horror swept through Danny, around him. What Brad’s brother had done to Brad was terrible, but to try and burn someone alive? Danny drew Brad close to his side, urging him to lean on him, accept what little support he had to offer.

Brad stiffened for a moment, then melted into him. “It’s my fault,” he whispered. “If I hadn’t been such a coward, none of it would have happened. Carson would be okay, not covered in scars and probably traumatized for life. I don’t even know how he’s doing now. The night after my brother was arrested, my parents shipped me off to military school in the hopes some discipline and a macho atmosphere would somehow keep me from my deviant thoughts.”

“It’s not your fault. You have to know that. You are not responsible for what your brother did. He is.”

“I knew better. I should never have started something with Carson. If I hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t have been hurt. I tortured myself by collecting every piece of information I could about Carson’s recovery. Jesus, Danny, he had to have skin grafts to replace most of the skin on his chest and back. It was almost a year before he could go back to school. All because we got caught fooling around.”

“Not your fault,” Danny stressed, wishing Papá were there. Papá would know what to do and say. Tears streamed down Brad’s face, and Danny’s throat tightened in sympathetic reaction. Brad needed someone to talk to, for sure. A counselor or therapist, someone. This was so far over Danny’s head. He couldn’t flirt a person into better mental health.

“I didn’t even get a chance to apologize.”

“Have you tried reaching out to him since then?”

Brad shook his head. “I don’t know how. The cell phone number and email address I used to have for him have been disconnected, and...and I don’t think he’d want to hear from me, even if I could find out how to contact him. I ruined his life. He probably hates me.”

They sat there for a while, watching people walk or bike past.

“You get it, right? Why I can’t be in a relationship? Why I don’t want people to know I’m gay?”

Danny bit his lip, trying to find the right words. “I get why you might feel that way.” He understood, but doubted being alone was very healthy.

“It’s better this way.” Brad spoke under his breath, and Danny didn’t think he was supposed to hear. Good thing too. He didn’t know what to say.

“We’d better get back to the camp,” Danny said when his butt had gone numb from sitting on the hard surface of the rock. He kept his tone light. “It’s about time to get the grill going for dinner. How do you feel about brats?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had brats,” Brad said. “They’re like Polish sausage, right?”

“Sort of, but they’re bigger and better and in a class of their own. Oh, and they’re German.”

“Oh, well, in that case, let’s go have brats.”

Danny stood and reached out. Brad took the offered hand and held it the entire way back to their camp.