Angel and the Assassin (30 page)

* * *

It was after dark when they arrived home. Kael was relieved and happy that Angel had citizenship and that he was deemed by SIS not to be a risk. The boy had been marginally enthusiastic about his new clothes, but he really enjoyed trying on leather hats and was very happy with his leather rebel cap. “Take your hat off in the house, boy,” Kael said when Angel entered the kitchen still wearing the cap.

“Yes, Sir.”

Kael took a bottle of water and drank half of it. “What‟s the matter with you?

You should be ecstatic; everything is falling into place.”

“I‟m okay, Sir.”

“Is it what Conran said? That I brought you home for my amusement?”

“Why would that bother me, Sir? I‟m a slave. That‟s what I‟m for, right?” He took an apple from the fridge and bit into it.

“Even slaves have feelings.”

“Is it true, Sir; did you?”

I love you more with every day that passes.

“You‟re here because I want you here,” Kael said.

“What happens when you don‟t want me anymore, Sir?”

“You‟ve got all your papers, and I have an assurance that you‟re safe. You just need to wait another couple of days.”

Why the hell did I say that?

“Can I go and visit my mom?”

“I already said I‟d give you the money if you want to go so badly. There‟s money in the drawer in the bedside table. I always leave cash in there at the back.

But do not go anywhere without telling me first.”

“You‟d worry about me?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yes, I would. Are you hungry? An apple‟s not much food.”

“No, Sir, I‟m fine. I‟m going to lie down if that‟s okay.”

“Go ahead.”

In the living room Kael stood at the sideboard and poured a whiskey, downed it, and poured another.
I should go in there and tell him I love him
. He drank the second whiskey in one mouthful and poured a third.
He’s an annoying teenager with
stupid habits, but I love him. I want him to stay and be my boy. I want to come home
from a job and find him here, waiting for me, happy to see me. I want to make a man
of him.

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Grabbing the bottle, he walked to the couch and threw himself down. He poured another whiskey and drank it immediately.
I hate feeling like this; it makes
me feel weak and scared
. He put the glass on the coffee table and drank from the bottle.

Angel, I love you. Why have you turned cold on me? What the hell did I do? I’m
no genius when it comes to feelings and being sensitive, but I know how I feel about
you. From the moment I saw you, I felt something I’ve never felt before.

He took a long swig from the bottle, held it up to his eyes, saw there was an inch left, and finished it.

I’m going to tell you how much I love you. I’m going to tell you right now.

Unsteadily, he rose and walked into the bedroom. It took a lot to make him drunk, given his size, but it was eight o‟clock, he had not eaten since lunchtime, and he had drunk three-quarters of a bottle of whisky in less than ten minutes. Angel lay on the bed, hugging his blanket. Kael sat down heavily beside him, working up the courage to speak.

“Sir, are you drunk?”

“Not yet, but another bottle should do it.” He laughed.

Angel raised an eyebrow. “I think you‟re drunk now.”

“I am not drunk, and don‟t get snotty with me, boy.”

“Sir, you stink of whisky.”

Kael stood up, rocking on his feet, his finger extended to give him a telling off.

“Don‟t fall on me. You could kill me,” Angel said before he could speak.

“Would you stop accusing me of trying to kill you!” He had gone into the bedroom to tell Angel he loved him, and now he wanted to slap his arse. Oh for Christ‟s sake! Why couldn‟t the boy just shut up and listen? He wanted to say he loved him. Didn‟t he know how hard it was for Kael to say that?

Why am I getting angry when I’m supposed to be professing my love?

“I‟m going out to get drunk.”

“Sir, you‟re already drunk! Maybe you should stay home. You‟ll get into a fight, and then someone will end up dead. Though I doubt it will be you.”

“Don‟t tell me what to do, boy. There‟s only one master in this house, and that‟s me.”

Angel scrambled off the bed and left the room. Furious that the boy had walked away from him, Kael went after him. He caught him in the living room about to put the TV on, and grabbed him by the arm. “Don‟t walk away from me.”

Angel looked up at him, his lower lip quivering as though he was about to cry.

“You don‟t care about me, Sir.”

“I do. Why do you think I didn‟t kill you!”

That was a stupid thing to say. What’s wrong with me?

15Angel made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and an expression of disgust. “That‟s how Kael Saunders shows he cares; he doesn‟t kill you.”

“You little fuck!” He grabbed Angel and raised his hand to slap him, then thought better of it. In the hall he pulled on his jacket and shouted from the front door. “Don‟t go anywhere.” He slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Frustrated and angry, Angel leaped onto the couch and punched the cushioned back relentlessly until his knuckles hurt and he was exhausted. Violent sobs shook his body, and he lay down on the couch and cried himself to sleep.

When he woke up, it was the early hours of the morning, and he went into the bedroom to see if Sir was home. The bed had not been slept in, and he crawled across the bed to Sir‟s side and opened the drawer to find the money. His mom was settled by now with Gregoire. As long as she knew he was only visiting, she would probably be happy to see him.

At the back of the drawer, he found a wad of £50 notes and sat cross-legged on the bed counting them. It was plenty to get over to France. He would go to an Internet café and e-mail Maria-Jesus to find out where his mom was living.

Angel stuck his hand into the back of the drawer to see if there was any more money and grasped a book. He pulled it out, flipping open the front cover. It was a diary, and it belonged to Sir.
I grew up poor, but I had two things in my favour
—An hour later he had read every word.

Looking inside the drawer again, he found a pen and began to write after the last entry.

 

Daddy I love you. I never loved anyone like I love you and you can say it’s
because I have no experience with men and that’s true but it doesn’t take away from
how much I love you. I heard you telling Freddie I was temporary and Freddie said
you loved me and you said you didn’t, you said you had no time for me. I was on the
stairs listening to everything, so I know what you think. You don’t love me, you never
wanted me. It’s just lust because you told Freddie that. I’m going to stay with my
mom until I find a Daddy who will love me. I know that fucktard Conran was lying
and my mom really wants me. You are the hottest dude I ever met, but you are
seriously fucked up. You are nuts about everything being perfect and you are a total
control freak and I know you kill people for a living. I don’t think you would kill me
but even I know a relationship has to be based on more than just—would I kill this
dude or not?

From your Angel.

PS I love you so much.

 

He decided to stay in what he was wearing, his jeans and the leather vest shirt he had worn the day he arrived. He sat on the side of the bed and laced up his 160

German paratrooper boots. The only present he would take was the rebel cap Sir had bought him in the West End.

In his leather backpack he stuffed his blanket, the money, and one change of clothes and headed out into the dark, cold early morning. A damp drizzle began to fall as he walked away from the flat. He missed Daddy already.

16Chapter Nineteen

 

Kael was so drunk he could hardly stand up. Part of him rebelled against being out of control to the point where he could not defend himself if he needed to, and part of him wanted to obliterate all the feelings of vulnerability that being in love gave him.

The man who stood with his back to him, facing the toilet wall with his trousers around his knees, meant nothing to him. This was much safer than being responsible for a lovely boy who might even love him back given the chance. “Ready when you are.” The man, older than himself and attractively masculine, looked over his shoulder.

When he had left the flat, already drunk, he was still wearing the dark gray trousers and gray shirt he had worn that day. He was not dressed for a leather bar so he went to a gay pub to finish getting drunk and see how many men he could fuck in one night. By this time he had lost count and lost interest. At least he was not so drunk that he had neglected to use a condom, but he had started the night with a handful in his pocket and he was down to the last one.

In a gentle, longing voice, the man said, “Come on, gorgeous, let me feel the size of you. I haven‟t had a fuck in weeks.”

“I don‟t think I can.” Kael patted the man‟s shoulder. “No offense, mate, but I‟m too drunk.”

“Come back to my place. We‟ll sober you up and try again.”

“All right.” Kael followed the stranger out of the pub.

* * *

He awoke the next morning lying in a bed he did not recognize. The man beside him was still asleep, and he couldn‟t remember if he‟d fucked him or not.

With the stealth he used on a job, he dressed and left without making a sound. At home he went directly to the bathroom without going through the bedroom so as not to disturb Angel, and took a long, very hot shower.

Christ, my mouth feels like the bottom of Gandhi’s sandal.

He scrubbed his teeth vigorously and gargled with mouthwash, then went naked to the kitchen and drank two bottles of water. This was insane. He‟d had a horrible time last night, drunk more than he had drunk since his early twenties, and fucked at least a dozen strange men.

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What he really wanted was to lie in bed with Angel and hold him and ask him why he had stopped being affectionate and spontaneous. He wanted to tell him he missed being hugged and leaned on. He missed Angel sitting in his lap on the couch and chatting about unimportant things. He missed Angel walking up behind him and hugging him around the waist. He missed being called Daddy.

I’m going to make this right.

Picturing Angel curled up with his blanket, he quietly opened the bedroom door. The bed had not been slept in. Kael scanned the room for signs of his boy.

After taking in the big details—the blinds had not been drawn, the bed was still made—he looked at the smaller details. Angel had sat on his side of the bed. There was a small flattened area in the duvet. The drawer in his bedside table was fractionally open.

A sudden panic gripped Kael‟s belly. Had Angel taken him up on that stupid, careless offer of money and gone to France?

He sank down onto the bed and opened the drawer, feeling in the back for the wad of notes. Gone. As he felt about, he touched his leather-bound diary and snatched it up. God, he hoped Angel hadn‟t read the trivialities he had written there.

He thumbed through the book to the last entry and saw childish, unfamiliar handwriting.
Daddy I love you. I never loved anyone like I love you… I heard you
telling Freddie I was temporary… I was on the stairs listening to everything…

Shite! That was why he had withdrawn, because he heard Kael say he did not love him and never would. He sank his head into his hands. How could he have messed up so badly? The clock read 9:30. Angel could be in France by now. Would his mum welcome him? He‟d be heartbroken if she didn‟t.

Suddenly he needed his own mum. He went to the bathroom to pick up his clothes and get his mobile from his pocket. He bought new ones regularly, always getting different numbers and disposing of the old ones so he could phone his mum.

She had never seen his flat, never had a number to reach him. When he brought her to London, he stayed in a hotel with her. She liked that better anyway; it was a treat for her. He lay down on the bed on top of the duvet and pressed her number.

“Hello?” She sounded sleepy.

“Hello, Mum, how are you?”

“Kael, love! You haven‟t phoned me in weeks.” The instant pleasure in her voice made his eyes prick with unfamiliar tears.

“Sorry, Mum, I‟ve been busy. Were you sleeping?”

“I‟m awake now. How are you then? You sound upset.” She always knew.

“Yeah, I am.”

“What‟s up?”

“Mum, I‟m in love,” he said very quietly.

“Awww, that‟s nice, son. So”—she paused—“is it a fella?”

16“Of course it‟s a fella. You know I‟m gay.”

“All right, love, don‟t get annoyed with me; I‟m just asking. You told me you were like that, but then you‟ve never said you were seeing anyone. So what‟s he like then? Tell me all about him.”

“He‟s lovely. He‟s really sweet, and he loves me.”

“What are you so upset about then, love?” she asked.

“He‟s left me, Mum.”

“Left you?” For a half a minute neither of them spoke. “Kael, don‟t take this the wrong way, son, but were you kind to him?”

He sat up. “What do you mean, kind?”

“It‟s the way you come across, Kael. You can be very”—he waited while she considered her words—“very stiff.”

“I‟m not stiff.”

“You are, Kael,” she said firmly. “You can be very distant, a bit „don‟t mess with me or I‟ll smack you one,‟ that sort of thing.”