Finding Gary (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 4) (17 page)

Nervous laughed picked up at the table for the first time that morning, and Val’s annoyance showed on his face.

“So we’re all in agreement?” Jessica asked, meeting each eye.  “Everyone packs a bag and moves into the big house until King is behind bars?  Once he loses the nomination, he loses power, and things will begin moving much more quickly.  One way or another…” Jessica shook her head.  “It won’t be much longer.”

A long silence passed, and then, murmured agreements from all around.

“What about you?” Bette sat taller in her seat and clasped her hands onto the table.

Jessica looked at Bette’s hands, noting that the iceberg sized diamond that once inhabited her left ring finger was no longer there.

Ever gracious, Bette pretended not to notice.  “We have more than enough room for you too, Jessica.”

Jessica’s mouth fell open, and embarrassed tears stung her eyes.  She swallowed them back before they became obvious.

“Wow,” she whispered.  She’d gotten the tears out of her eyes, but not out of her voice, which broke.  “Wow, Bette… that’s… really, really sweet, but…”

“We have plenty of room,” Leo said.

Jessica’s eyes went to his and widened.  She hadn’t expected him to co-sign Bette, especially not on anything that involved sharing a roof.  She found herself speechless when, upon seeing the kindness in his amber eyes, she realized she loved him more then than she ever had before.  His heart was even bigger than she’d already imagined it to be.  And that was pretty damn big.

“Leo… I don’t know what to say.”  She forced her eyes away from him before she embarrassed herself further.  She tried to deepen her voice.  “I wish Victor King would try to come for me in my own home,” she boasted, looking back to Bette, who gave her a small smile.  “It would give me the perfect excuse to kill him myself.”

Roman smiled at her.  Jessica felt that smile hit her like a rocket because it was something he’d never directed at her.  His eyes lit up, and he lifted his head to acknowledge her, clearly finding her new violent streak nothing short of brilliant.

“I wish he would…” Jessica trailed. 

On top of the table, Leo moved his hand deeper, his skin brushing hers without hesitation now.  The shock of it caused her to yank her hand away.  When the door to the room clicked open, and Jack Almeida stepped inside, Jessica nearly bolted across the room.  She didn’t know what was going on with Leo, or what had inspired the change in him, but she knew she couldn’t afford that change to happen while she was on duty.  If he was thinking of forgiving her, there would be nothing to stop her from undressing and fucking him right there on that table, with his family’s eyes watching them.  So she crossed the room to the other side of the table, where things were safer.

“Jack, good,” she said, going to the door and shaking Jack’s hand.  “I was just speaking to the family about getting under the same roof until King is convicted.”

Jack raised his eyebrows and looked into the room.  He must’ve noted the tension because his eyebrows went even higher.  “That sounds like a great plan.”

“As long as they don’t kill each other first,” Jessica grumbled.

“Please, I must ask that no one murder anyone else until I win my trial,” Jack admonished, more worried about his win than the family in shambles before him.  “I need each and every one of you on the stand.”

“I’ll leave you guys,” Jessica said, inching out of the door.  Leo watched her and jolted in his seat, almost as if he were about to stand up.  She felt her heart melt.  “I’ll see you guys on Monday,” she said, more to Leo than anyone else, before easing the door closed behind her.  Once she was in the hallway, she whispered to herself.  “This nightmare is almost over.”

***

Gary breathed deeply from where he was still planted at the head of the boardroom table, watching as Jack circled the table, giving the family what felt like the longest speech he’d ever heard in his life.

Eventually, Jack’s authoritative voice began to drown out as Gary secretly snuck looks at his family, who were still listening to Jack intently.  Every face he landed on elicited a new turn of his stomach.  His father, seated next to him, made Gary’s stomach sick because it rocketed him back to the moment he’d shared in the hallway with Reggie just a few days earlier. 

Reggie had been absolutely right.  Since the day he was born, Tony had shown Gary nothing but love and support.  Even when Gary was fucking up royally, Tony never made him feel like his love had a limit.  It just kept getting bigger, fuller, and more genuine.  Reggie had never had that with Victor King.  Gary tried to imagine the kind of mountains he would move if he ever found himself in Reggie’s shoes.  If he ever found himself faced with a Tony Romanovsky that didn’t bestow his love so freely.

When Tony suddenly met Gary’s eyes, green on green, Gary realized he would cut off his own
arm. 
He would cut off his arm to for the smile Tony gave him right then.  To feel it enter his body and soothe every inch.

Tony reached across the table and covered Gary’s hand, and Gary’s eyes fell.

When he looked back up, Tony was back to listening to Jack, and Gary’s eyes travelled over Leo, Roman and stopped at Bette.

Bette’s golden hazel eyes were riveted right to him, and she didn’t even move them away from the embarrassment of being caught.  She held Gary’s gaze, her lips getting weak when their eye contact went on for over a minute.

Then she smiled, the tiniest lift of the corner of her lips.

And Gary nearly fell apart. When he moved his eyes to the head of the table, the heated gaze that met him nearly sent him rocketing back in his chair.  That gaze reminded him that this was far from over.

Val clenched his fists on the table.  Unlike his parents, he didn’t have a smile to offer Gary.  The moisture gleaming in his eyes wasn’t a byproduct of love, but fight.  Val was still fighting not to hate him.  Not to blame him.  Gary wondered, as long as he didn’t have Zoey and Marcus if it was a fight Val would ever win.

“Gary!”

Gary jolted in his seat, and his eyes flew to the head of the room, where Jack was bent over at the waist, watching him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Gary begged, giving Val’s wearied face one last look before frowning at Jack, trying to concentrate.

“This won’t fly in court,” Jack said, holding his hands out.  “When you’re on that witness stand, I need your undivided attention at all times.  When you’re distracted, the jury will think you’re lying, even if you aren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Gary said.  “I’m listening.”

Jack searched his eyes for another moment before straightening.  “I was just going over the order you’ll all be called to the stand.”  Jack leaned on the table next to Val, one shoulder hitched a little higher than the other, tapping the butt of his pen on the folder he’d brought in.  “I’m going to call you to the stand more than once, Gary.  When I’m questioning you, don’t jump ahead of the story.  Only answer questions that I ask you specifically.  We’re aiming to give the jury bits and pieces until we get to the end.  That’s what will hit them the hardest.  If we can get them emotionally, convicting King will be a piece of cake.”

“Got it.  Only answer questions you ask,” Gary said, swallowing.

“Don’t be nervous,” Jack said.  “It only took a decade, but you finally caved and got the hardest part out of the way.  You told me the whole story.  I’d have preferred you hadn’t called me at 3 a.m. when you finally decided to do it… but I digress…”

Gary rolled his eyes.

“I can’t imagine why it took you so long to tell me what really led up to the accident,” Jack said.  “Perhaps you had no idea how sympathetic it actually makes you.”

Gary felt the confused looks his family members were giving him, and silently begged Jack to shut up.

They still didn’t know.

“It’s nobody’s business,” Gary said.

Jack chuckled, but he seemed to receive the quiet message Gary sent with his eyes.  “It will be, come Monday.  There’s nothing on Earth more malleable than a sympathetic jury.”

“What’s he talking about?” Tony asked Gary.

“Nothing,” Gary said.

Jack’s smirk grew. “Well, since it appears I’m not the only one who didn’t know the whole story…”

Gary shot Jack another look, gritting his teeth.

“I’ll leave you all to it.” Jack whipped his briefcase up from the table.  “Please review the documents I left with you.  I’ll see you in court first thing Monday morning.  And, Gary?
  Please.
  Wear a better suit.”

Gary’s offended eyes shot down to his suit, and he gingerly fingered his tie just as Jack stepped out of the room and slammed the door closed behind him.

Then, just like that, Gary’s mind was no longer on his suit.  It was on the trial.   If everything went according to plan and Victor King was convicted on police corruption charges, Gary and his family would sleep easy for the first time in their lives.

For that, there was nothing Gary wouldn’t do.  Even if it meant telling the truth—the
whole
truth.

He was ready for the future.

Whatever it held. 

***

Even the clanking of silverware against the plates was quiet.  Or, at least, quieter than usual.  The most human act of all—the most basic pleasure—eating, felt long and tedious.  Not enjoyable, but simply necessary.

Gary chewed his food without tasting it.  Swallowed only to have something in his stomach.  He hoped tonight’s would be the first meal he’d be able to hold down.  His eyes circled the dining room table.  His family’s Westchester home was massive, and it always echoed during dinner.  Usually, it was the voices and laughter of his family that traveled through the long halls like a sound system.

But not tonight.  Tonight, it was the clank of plates and silverware.

Nothing else.

Gary hadn’t even realized he was staring across the table at Val until his brother looked up and they met eyes.

Val instantly stopped chewing, stopped stabbing at his food with his fork, stopped breathing.

“Don’t look at me,” Val spat, causing the rest of the clanking at the table to stop.

If Gary thought it had been quiet a moment earlier, it was only because he’d yet to experience the silence he was stewing in right then.

He took a deep breath.  “I wasn’t looking at you.  I was eating my food, thinking, and just happened to be looking in your direction.  I was simply existing, but I guess I’m not allowed to do that anymore.”

Val’s eyes fell back to his plate.  He clenched his fork and knife in a tight fist.  “Don’t speak to me.”

Gary opened his mouth.

“Don’t
speak
to me,” Val said, again, his voice much more calm this time.

It was a calm that prompted Angie to give Gary a wide-eyed look from her place next to Roman, along with a slight shake of her head.  A shake of the head that begged Gary to fall back.  Gary’s eyes went to Bette, and he saw her face wasn’t much different.  He checked the eyes of every member of his family at the table, Roman, Leo, his father, looking for any support.  Any kind eyes.

Anything.

When he was met with nothing, Gary gave Val one last look, frowned, and went back to his food.

The clanking of silverware and plates commenced.  It was the only sound that bounded through the halls of the Romanovsky estate for the rest of the night.

14

Present Day

“Why, Gary?  Why walk into the central office of the largest tabloid in New York City, ten years after you got away—scot-free, climb on top of a reporter’s desk and confess?  What was it about that night that grabbed you, consumed you, and moved you to confess; ten years after you’d gotten away with it?”

From his seat at the witness stand, Gary considered Jack’s question.  Then, his eyes moved to the first row of the pews, where his entire family sat, looking steely.  Their first night together in the family home had been cordial at best, downright hostile at worst.  Regardless, they’d made it through with all their limbs intact, so it felt like a win to Gary. 

Val turned in his seat, looking to the back of the courtroom, and Gary followed his eyes.  He nearly came apart when he caught sight of Zoey in the back row, arms crossed tight, looking on the verge of tears.  If she could feel Val’s eyes on her, and they had been on her all morning, she didn’t show it.  A massive man with a long black ponytail sat between Zoey and the aisle.  He shot Val an expression that dared him to approach.  

Gary tore his eyes from Zoey when his stomach tumbled with guilt, fearful that he might fall apart at how much he missed her.  His gaze went to the pew on the opposite side of his family, and a second chill raced down his spine because he’d locked eyes with him.

Him—in the first row, pressing clenched fists into his full lips. Reggie King’s dark brown eyes were haunted.

And, for Gary, everything washed away.  The courtroom was reduced to a blur—the burly Asian judge, the svelte court reporter tapping away on her machine, the defense and the prosecution tables.  All of it moved into nothingness, and all that existed was him.

They locked eyes, and Gary was transfixed, so much so that when a tailored black suit suddenly stepped into his view, he drew a sharp breath, sitting taller, lashes fluttering.  His green eyes rose to Jack, and the world swayed back in focus.

“Gary?” Jack pressed.

“Sorry,” Gary croaked.  “Can you repeat the question?”

“The question was… Why?  Why did you confess, ten years after you’d gotten away with the murder of Pansy and Marcus Black?”

The first tear escaped Gary’s eyes, soaking the slacks of his business suit, and with uneven breath, he opened his mouth to give the only thing he was capable of giving any more.

The truth.

“I did it to protect my family,” Gary said, his voice trembling.

Jack took that in, letting the answer linger in the air, and then nodded.  “I have no further questions, for now, Your Honor.”

The judge appeared taken aback at Jack’s brief line of questioning, but he gathered himself quickly, turning to the defense table.  “Would the defense like to cross-examine?”

The young blonde defense attorney answered.  “Not at the moment, Your Honor,” she said.

The judge looked at Gary and smiled gently.  “You may step down, Gary.”

Jack waited until Gary had stepped down from the bench and until he’d reclaimed his seat at the prosecution table.  From the pews, Tony leaned forward and squeezed Gary’s shoulder.  Gary turned and gave his father a tight smile, his eyes moving to Zoey before he could stop himself.  The moment their gazes locked, she hid her cringing face into the bulging arm of the man next to her.  That man held Marcus, completely covered in a swaddle, in one arm, and cuddled Zoey close with the other, giving Gary the same sour look he’d been giving Val all morning.

When Zoey’s cries became audible, Gary turned away, unable to watch.

“Your next witness, Mr. Almeida?”

Jack nodded to the judge.  “Your Honor, I’d like to call Reginald King.”

Soft murmurs picked up all over the courtroom, and when Reggie King stood from his seat in the pews, holding his tie to his chest, those murmurs rose to a full-on conversation; so loud the judge had to slam his gavel several times to reclaim order. 

The silence didn’t settle in until Reggie was seated behind the witness stand.  He met Gary’s eyes.

Gary’s heartbeat tripled.  Behind him, he heard every vile word leaving his brothers’ mouths in reference to Reggie.  Words they had the good sense to whisper.

“Reggie…” Jack came to a stop next to the stand.  “How long have you known Gary Romanovsky?”

“As long as I can remember.  We met in pre-school.  We were… best friends.”

“Were?”

“We fell out of touch.”

“That’s too bad.  When would you say you fell out of touch?”

Reggie’s eyes moved back to Gary, and he took a deep breath.  “The night the Blacks died.”

“And what, exactly, caused the rift between you and Gary that night?  A rift strong enough to end such a long friendship?”

“My father, Victor King, caused it.”

“How so?”

Reggie took a deep breath, his eyes shrinking.

***

10 Years Earlier

Reggie’s eyes followed the ceiling fan spinning above his bed, attempting to focus on one blade.  He gave up when the task quickly made his brain feel like mush.  Snatching up the TV remote next to him, he tried to find something interesting to watch but abandoned that too when he found nothing of interest.  With a deep sigh, he cradled a hand behind his head and gazed out of his bedroom window.  His other hand trickled down his stomach, over his belly button, and lingered at the waistband of his white boxer briefs.

Eyes fluttering shut, lips falling open, thighs parting, he submerged his fingers inside, only brushing the base of his hardness once before he was sucking in a breath and rolling onto his side.

He shoved his hand between the mattress and the box spring, yanking out what he was looking for.  The magazine bent in his hand, hiding the face of the blonde woman on the cover.  Only her long legs remained visible, spread-eagled.  Reggie flicked his wrist, straightening the spine, and her gorgeous come-hither green eyes met his again, along with her dazzling smile.

He sat up, returning her coy smile while fingering open the magazine, skipping to the page he’d had bookmarked for as long as he could remember.

The photo that met him relaxed his shoulders.  His lips became dry as the Sahara—they always did at the sight of that photo—and he moistened them with his tongue while pushing his hand back into his briefs.  The faintest sigh escaped his lips as he went straight for the kill, encircling the throbbing head and giving it all of his attention.

In seconds he was near his peak, dilated eyes immersed in the photo, and he was no longer gentle with his tugs, patient with his strokes.  He yanked hard, his gasps taking over the air in the room and picking up in volume every second.

Nearing his precipice, feeling like a bonfire had been lit under his skin, spreading closer to his column as he yanked with ferocity, he didn’t even realize a sliver of light had illuminated his dark bedroom.  One that hadn’t been there before.

By the time he looked up and caught sight of his father looming in the doorway, his big shadow stretching across the room as he clutched the door handle, it was far too late.  Reggie had been so close to complete, so entranced at the photo, so utterly gone, that he knew his father had been standing in the doorway for ages.

A yelp split his lips.  He slammed the magazine closed and bent at the waist, covering his cock—which had gone soft in an instant—with his forearm.

Eyes riveted to the floor, wide and jumpy, Reggie’s shocked panting moved to gasps when the shadow on his carpet moved, growing larger and larger until two squeaking police boots came to a stop next to the bed.

Only then did Reggie raise his eyes, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he took in the fitted striped pants, the gun holster, and the gleaming gold badge before he finally met his father’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Reggie whispered, his gaze falling away just as quickly as it arrived.

Victor snatched the magazine out of his hand.

Reggie gasped and tried to reclaim it, but the sound of his father’s deep laughter froze him in mid-pursuit.

Victor’s belly jiggled as he lifted the magazine and shook it.  “This was my favorite issue when I was a boy.   A classic.  You think I didn’t know where it went the day it suddenly disappeared from my closet?” 

Reggie tittered, eyes narrowing.

“There isn’t a man alive who hasn’t busted one to her at least once.”  Victor shook the magazine harder.  “Just try to keep your voice down from here on out, okay?  I could hear you all the way from the—”  Victor stopped in mid-speech when something slipped from between the pages and floated to his feet.  He watched it with a frown, probably expecting one of those annoying subscription slips that magazines loved to force between the pages.

Victor’s fingers tightened around the magazine at what he saw instead.  His brown eyes went black, lips drawn, his chest coming to a standstill as he held his breath.

Reggie’s chest froze in place, too, staring down at the photo that had landed on the tip of his father’s boot.  He pushed back into the headboard, cradling his arms around his body. 

Victor bent down and took the photo between his first and middle finger, lifting it to eye level.  His eyes grew mystified as if sure he was imagining things.

Cringing, he turned the photo towards Reggie.

But Reggie already knew what it held. 

He’d taken the photo of Gary during one of their drag racing stints up on Cedar’s Point.  After saving up enough money to buy a cheap disposable camera from the grocery store, most of the camera’s film had lived and died with Gary.  Reggie’s best friend.  His only friend.  Sure enough, when he’d had the photos developed, Gary had been in every picture, but one, and that was only because Gary had stolen it to take a photo of his brothers.

Victor tightened his hold on the picture, short of breath, nostrils blooming. “What the fuck is this?”

Reggie shook his head wildly.  “It must have been in there by mistake.”

“Because you haven’t been enough of a disappointment since the day you were born?” Victor hissed.  “Now you’re telling me you’re a goddamned faggot, too?”

“Dad.  It was in there by mistake.  I didn’t even know it was there—”

In a split second, the photo was tossed, and Victor’s hand was around Reggie’s neck, tightening until Reggie croaked under the pressure.

Reggie wheezed, shaking his head.

“Worthless.  You’re worthless!” Victor spat, his eyes lighting fire.  He snatched up the photo from where it had landed on the bed, next to Reggie’s hand, where he had a chunk of his bedspread in a tight fist.  He shoved it in Reggie’s face, the thick paper cutting into his skin.  “Does he suck your dick?”

“Dad, please stop.”

“Do you suck his?  Huh?”  Victor shoved the photo deeper until he drew blood.  “Is that what you like, son?”

Knowing no answer was right, Reggie pulled his blanket into two tight fists and slammed his eyes closed, preparing himself for the blow he knew was coming. 

And it did come, over and over, until he fell back onto the sheets and everything went black. 

***

“So he beat you?” Jack asked, breaking into Reggie’s story.  His interruption seemed to set off an expelling of air from every corner of the courtroom, which, up until that moment, had been quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Reggie sniffled, refusing to give the son of a bitch staring him down from the defense table the satisfaction of another tear.  Never again would he cry for that man.  Even then, sitting on the stand and feeling his father’s heated eyes… it didn’t have the same power over Reggie as it once did. 

“Yes,” Reggie answered.  “Which wasn’t exactly a brand new turn of events.”

The defense attorney objected, but was overruled. Reggie saw Jack’s fingers clutch the witness stand, the only outward evidence he showed of his excitement.

Jack cleared his throat.  “So he hit you often?”

“Whenever he had a good enough excuse.”

“And how often was that?”

“I don’t know.  Once, sometimes twice a week?”

“And what do you think drove your father to strike you that night, Reggie?  What was his excuse that night?”

Reggie shrugged.  “My mother died during childbirth, and he never recovered from that.  He blamed me.  From the day I was born…” Reggie faltered,  “he’s been going out of his way to make me pay.  Any reason was a good enough reason.  Forgetting to vacuum the floor.  Getting a ‘B’ instead of an ‘A’.  A ‘C’ instead of a ‘B’.  Smiling too proudly.  Not smiling enough… Anything.  Any nonsense reason.  That night, I suppose he was pretty excited that, for once, I actually gave him a great reason.  He made me believe I deserved it.”

“Reggie, are you a homosexual?”

Reggie shifted in his seat and looked at the prosecution table, at Gary.  They both breathed in at once.  “Bisexual.”

“Did you know, back then, that you were bisexual?”

“I was masturbating to a photo of my best friend, so yeah… I had a pretty good idea.”  Reggie wasn’t blind to the stunned expressions coming from each member of the Romanovsky family.  They had no idea, he thought.  His jerking off to a photo of Gary was just the tip of the iceberg that night.