Dirty Angel-BarbaraElsborg (13 page)

“That’s Nelson,” Jamie said. “He’s older than us, but not as old as you.”

Aden laughed and scratched the dog’s head. The twins chattered as they played which saved Aden having to say much. He’d never handled Lego before. Not something he’d risked stealing. There were too many small pieces. If he’d dropped just one brick it increased the risk of his parents discovering what he’d done. By the time he was in care, he wasn’t interested anymore. He didn’t want to play with anything. Now he thought he’d missed out. Putting the bricks together was addictive.

When Karen called them to eat, it was Aden who wanted to stay and finish what they’d been building.

“We have to go. Mum gets cross.” Jamie took hold of his hand.

Aden hesitated. He was worried about upsetting the kid’s parents with the handholding, but when Jamie pulled him to the table Karen didn’t seem concerned.

“You sit next to me,” Jamie said.

The table was only laid for five, so Brody wasn’t eating with them. The twins dropped onto chairs either side of Aden, and the dog sat on his feet. He hadn’t eaten with a family since he was in care. The Turners had been the only ones interested in fostering him, but nothing had come of it.

Karen handed out plates of spaghetti bolognaise.

“Is it time yet?” Martin asked.

“No,” his mother said.

“Wine?” Des asked Aden.

“Please.”

“Thanks for all your help today,” Des said. “Thanks again for saving my idiot son yesterday.” He glanced at Jamie.

“I was lucky I was able to catch him.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Karen asked.

“No.”

“Do you want kids?” she asked.

Aden paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “I’ve never thought about it.” He had, once upon a time, when he was daydreaming of another life. The answer was no. He’d be a bad parent. Not that it mattered now.

“Don’t let our two put you off.” She mock-glared at her sons.

“What sort of job is it you’re trying to get by doing this survival thing?” Des asked.

“I can’t be specific.”

Des poured wine for Karen.

“No money, no home, no support? It sounds difficult,” Karen said.

“The weather made it worse. I was lucky Brody knocked me down with his car. Well, lucky it was a glancing blow.”

“Yeah, you were,” Des said. “Will you be working around here if you get the job?”

“I don’t know.” This was the trouble with lies, they bred more lies.

“It’s a lovely part of the country—when it’s not raining,” Karen said. “Where do you live now?”

“London.”

“That’s not so far.” She glanced at her husband. “Brody likes to go to London. Clubs and…things.”

Were they trying to pair up him and Brody?

“It frightens me to think he might have been caught up in that terrorist attack.” She shuddered.

“Uncle Brody said he’d take us to the Natural History Museum.” Martin slurped up a strand of spaghetti. “Is it time now, Mummy?”

“No,” she said with a groan.

Time for what?

“Brody used to go a lot when he was a kid. I couldn’t see the point in looking at dead animals.” Des took a sip of wine.

“Did you always want to run the farm and the stables?” Aden asked.

Des sighed. “I wanted to be a showjumper but… Yeah, well that came to nothing. The livery makes barely enough to support us. The other animals give us a small income. Karen supplies home baked bread, cakes and biscuits to a couple of local tourist attractions and that helps too, along with renting out the cottages. I’m sorry we can’t pay you for your work
.”

“That’s okay. This is delicious, by the way. Thanks for inviting me. Thanks for letting me stay the rest of the week. I appreciate it.” Aden didn’t think he’d said thank you so many times.

“No problem.” Karen beamed at him. “You’re taking some of the work load off Des which has given him chance to catch up on a few jobs.” She turned to her husband. “Talking of jobs, did you sort out the tractor?”

“Can’t. She’s had it. I’ll see if I can pick up a cheap one at the auction on Wednesday.”

“Want me to take a look?” Aden asked.

Des shot him a glance. “You know anything about tractors?”

“Not specifically, but I’m good with cars.”

“If you can resurrect Bessie, I’d be eternally grateful. Well, I’m already eternally grateful.” He looked at his son.

Karen brought in blackberry and apple crumble and Aden’s mouth watered.

“Is it time now?” Martin asked.

Karin gritted her teeth. “Nearly.”

“Uncle Brody’s on TV tonight,” Jamie said.

“Is he?” Aden stopped eating. “Superman? Spiderman? The Incredible Hulk?”

The twins giggled.

“They filmed the vet practice,” Karen said. “Brody’s coming to watch.”

Aden’s heart gave a heavy thump. He’d soon find out whether Brody was pleased to see him or not.

When they’d finished eating, Des took the twins into the lounge and Aden helped Karen clear the table. He jumped when he heard the knock at the door.

“Go and sit down.” She threw him a little smile. “I’ll see to this.”

She knows I like him.
But when Aden walked into the main room, Brody was sitting on the couch next to a guy with straw blond hair. They were both laughing. Aden explained away the sensation in his stomach as not being in on the joke, because he couldn’t be jealous.

Brody sprang to his feet when he saw him, shock all over his face. The mark on Brody’s cheek had turned to a dark bruise. Aden found himself wanting to touch the place where he’d been hurt, run his fingers over Brody’s mouth, feel those lips wrapped around his cock.
Shit.

“What are you…? Ah right.” Brody glanced at his sister-in-law. “Henrik came over. I didn’t think you’d mind him joining us.”

“Course not.” Karen said. “Hi, Henrik.”

The blond guy kissed her cheek. “Hello, Karen.”

“Aden, this is Henrik Christiansen,” Brody said. “He owns the practice where I work. Henrik, this is Aden.”

Henrik held out his hand. He towered over Aden. Tall, slim, older, nice looking, good clothes and…gay.

“Hi,” Henrik said.

Aden shook his hand and nodded.

“What would everyone like to drink?” Des asked. “Champagne?”

“Champagne?” Brody goggled at his brother.

“Not every day my brother gets to be on TV.” Des took the bottle Karen had brought in and opened it. Glasses were set out on the sideboard.

“You can have coffee or tea if you’d rather,” Karen said.

“Or a fruit smoothie,” Martin added. “They’re really good.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Brody said.

When everyone had a drink, they settled down to watch. Aden had considered sitting on the couch and sandwiching Brody between him and the blond guy, but instead chose a chair on the other side of the room. Jamie dropped onto the floor beside him and the dog once again sat on Aden’s feet. He wasn’t usually so attractive to dogs. Well, not four legged ones.

A line of birthday cards hung on the wall beside a wood burning stove.

“When was your birthday?” Aden asked Jamie.

“I was six last week. I had Lego and a remote control car. Martin got Lego and a tool kit.”

Aden’s parents had never bought him a birthday card let alone a present. Not only did they think it was a waste of money, they had no interest in celebrating the birth of a child they didn’t want. They were happy to claim tax credits for him though.
Shitty bastards.
Martin had curled up on his mother’s lap and she stroked his hair. Aden didn’t remember his mother ever holding him, or touching him with kindness. He knew she wasn’t a good mother and yet even until the day she died, he’d hoped she’d change.

He’d been given birthday cards when he was in care—signed by everyone in the house—and every year Aden had ripped them into tiny pieces. It made him angry to get cards from people who were paid to care, from kids who didn’t care, who’d been made to sit at the table and write their name inside.
I was angry about everything.

He glanced up to see Brody staring at him and Aden looked away. It had nothing to do with him if Brody and his boss had a thing going. Better that they did. So why his chest was hurting, he couldn’t say. Better food than he was used to eating?
Yeah, you believe that, you stupid wanker.

The volume went up on the TV and he found himself listening to the end of a special programme about the attack on the Octoplex. Daesh had claimed responsibility and the threat level in the capital stood at severe. He bit into his cheeks. How had he died? What had happened to him?

“A terrible thing,” Henrik said. “All those people having a fun night out at a concert who never made it home.”

Including me.
He had a memory flash of walking down a corridor, looking for a bathroom. That was new. Aden struggled to push the memory further. Had he found a bathroom? Been with anyone? Too late to wish he’d stayed home that night.

Karen shuddered. “I don’t even like the idea of going into London at all.”

“Then they’ve won,” Henrik said.

He was right. Aden tried to think himself back to the corridor. What had happened next? He had no memory of a shooting.

The TV adverts came to an end and the music for the show began, a plinky orchestral piece accompanied by an aerial shot that gradually zoomed in over open fields until it reached a modern construction Aden assumed was the vet practice.

“It makes it look as though we’re out in the middle of nowhere,” Henrik said.

Brody laughed. “They managed to skip over the forklift truck depot across the road.”

Aden didn’t miss the way Henrik elbowed him.

“The Incredible Hulk,” Martin shouted when Brody came on screen.

“Hey, cheeky.” Brody threw a cushion at his nephew.

Henrik was good looking, but Brody…
oh fuck.
Aden crossed his legs. Viewers were going to fall for him.

The show was good, the right mix of interest and entertainment. Brody, Henrik and the other vets came over as caring individuals. There was clear chemistry between Henrik and Brody in the way they acted and spoke, but not sexual chemistry—Aden didn’t think. The programme wasn’t something Aden would have watched even if he’d had a TV, but it gave him renewed admiration for the work vets did.

No animals died and several were saved from near death. Brody had waded into water to rescue a trapped swan whose leg had been damaged by wire and had been pecked at for his kindness. There were two scenes in the operating theatre with Brody assisting Henrik while he did some complicated surgery putting pins in a dog’s leg, then working on a cat that had been run over.

Brody was funny. He got on well with everyone—clients, the staff at the practice and the animals. He was a kind guy, sympathetic, caring. Aden tried to think when he’d ever made an effort to be friendly toward the people he worked with or with customers, assuming he didn’t want to fuck them. He just did his job and went home.

Then the show was over. Karen hugged Brody, then Henrik, and told them how great it had been, how brilliant they were, how they’d be deluged with new clients. The kids were bouncing with excitement, clamouring for Brody’s autograph and judging by the way Brody rolled his eyes at his brother, Des had put them up to it. And through it all, Aden had taken in the way Henrik looked at Brody and understood his interest in the younger man. Plus it seemed that whenever Aden glanced at Brody, Henrik had taken in what he was doing.

Aden wasn’t sure how he felt. Jealousy was an alien emotion. He’d been envious of other people’s lives and possessions from being a small boy, hard not to be. He’d watched kids with mothers who loved them, and wanted their clothes, their toys, their lives. But jealous over a guy? Never. There were too many out there to waste energy wanting one who was already taken. And if a guy wanted to walk away from Aden, then he walked. Aden had never tried to persuade anyone not to. Though not many had made it into an actual relationship with him.

The longest he’d spent seeing the same guy had been three weeks. All they’d done was go to the guy’s place and fuck. It had been fun. The guy was hot and Aden was the one who’d walked away. Now, he wasn’t sure why.

What he hadn’t seen tonight was any interest from Brody in Henrik. So it probably wasn’t him who’d knocked Brody around. Assuming that was how he’d got the banged up face. Aden knew he was probably way off line. The guy was a vet. He handled animals that kicked and scratched and bit. The bruises were probably courtesy of some belligerent bull.

While Henrik cornered Brody, Aden made his way across the room to Des. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. What time do you want me to start tomorrow?”

“We usually begin at six.”

Oh God.
Aden had rolled up at eight that morning. “Okay. I’ll take a look at the tractor when it’s light.”

Aden put his boots back on and picked up his jacket from the hook. He left quietly and made his way back to the cottage. His third day and he’d been good, hadn’t he? He’d worked hard for no pay, been kind, polite. Was thinking constantly about fucking Brody against the rules? Wanking while thinking of Brody a strike against him? Aden wasn’t sure he cared. If he was going down anyway, he might as well take pleasure where he could.

Brody left his brother’s house with Henrik at his shoulder, annoyed he’d not had time to talk to Aden.

“The programmeme was good, wasn’t it?” Henrik said for the second time.

“Yeah.” He paused by Henrik’s vehicle.

“They didn’t make us out to be idiots.”

“No. Well, not me anyway. You were terrified when that ferret took a shine to you. I could see raw fear in your eyes.”

Henrik smiled. “All your worries come to nothing? You looked amazing. Like a film star.”

Shit.
“I wasn’t worried about how I’d look. I’m not that shallow.”

“Then why were you so bothered about being on TV? The money will let us improve the practice, buy new equipment. I can pay the staff a bonus.”

“Having a camera focused on me makes me feel uneasy.” Brody couldn’t tell Henrik what really worried him. “Like when I was a student with a tutor on my shoulder waiting for me to mess up.”