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Authors: C. Kennedy

Omorphi (19 page)

BOOK: Omorphi
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Christy shook his head just as he stumbled again.

“Christy, come on.” Michael put a hand on his shoulder and was relieved when Christy didn’t pull away. “Let me carry you back,” he said softly. When Christy didn’t say anything, he lifted him into his arms. Christy wreathed his arms and legs about Michael’s neck and waist and rested his head on his shoulder.

“You need to tell me what I said to upset you.”

Christy took a deep, shuddering breath as Michael set out for the cabin. “Are you with me because you’re curious?” The word curious came out in a raw rasp.

There was no mistaking that Christy had an accent, but Michael couldn’t place it. It wasn’t Spanish or Italian, but something close.
Duh, Michael, Christy said he was Greek
. Michael hadn’t thought Christy meant he was really from Greece, but remembered that Christy had babbled in a foreign language during his dream. “Whisper, don’t use your voice. Curious about what?”

“The neck, what they did to me?”

They.
Meaning
more than one. Fuck.

Michael’s skin began to crawl. “Christy, if you think I’m with you simply for the… the novelty of being with someone who’s been… abused, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m with you because I want to be. I’ve had a crush on you for months, I think you’re gorgeous, and I love everything I’m learning about you. I even love your accent.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

Suddenly, he didn’t have an accent. “Okay, I love the accent you hide.”

Christy shoved at Michael’s chest halfheartedly, and Michael tucked his chin and kissed his cheek. “Are you really from Greece?”

Christy nodded against Michael’s shoulder.

“How long have you been here?”

“Nine months.”

“You speak English pretty well for someone who’s only been here nine months.”

“My tutors were British.”

Very interesting
. “Why don’t you have a British accent?”

“I don’t wish to. I wish people to think I am American.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Christy raised his head and searched Michael’s eyes. “All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them. I promise.”

Rob watched them approach from a window, and Michael gave him a nearly indiscernible nod as he veered toward the cabin. He set Christy on his feet before the door and looked into his beautiful, now red and swollen, eyes. Michael cupped his cheek and brushed a stray tear away with a thumb. “You going to be okay?”

Christy nodded and croaked, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. What did I say to upset you?”

“I don’t want you to know some things. I thought Rob told you and that’s the reason you don’t want to have sex with me. Because I am…. Because they….”

There was that
they
again.

Michael held Christy’s pain-filled gaze for a long moment before deciding to be honest and direct with him. “He didn’t say a thing. He gave me some things to read. I also know this place is for abused and neglected children. Don’t think for a minute that I don’t want to have sex with you, because I do. The fact that you’ve been mistreated doesn’t do a thing to change how much I want you, but it does make me extra careful. I never want to do anything to remind you of what happened to you. You are not pathetic, dirty, or a whore. I don’t ever want to hear that kind of talk again. You are smart, artistic, caring, pretty, very sexy, and you can’t do anything to make me think otherwise. Here’s what you have to understand. I don’t know crap about this kind of stuff, and there is no way that we can be together without me knowing some things. It doesn’t mean you have to tell me what happened, but it does mean that I have to know some things so I don’t accidentally hurt or upset you. And we need to make sure that what we do doesn’t interfere with your healing.”

“You lecture me.” Christy’s words were quiet, yet indignant, on the air.

“Yeah, I guess that was a lecture.”

“I’m not a child.”

Michael pushed the door open. “Or a girl. You’re someone I want to love.”

Christy looked up at him, and the accusation Michael saw in his eyes made him cringe. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“It is not hard to believe. It is very easy to believe. I know why men love me, and it has nothing to do with my mind.”

Men. Plural. Jesus, what had happened to him?
“I’m not them, Christy, and I’m going to prove it to you.” Michael saw challenge in Christy’s eyes. “I will.”

Christy entered the cabin in silence.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

M
ICHAEL
followed Christy into a bathroom covered in gold-and-gray granite and large enough to be a bedroom. “My God, it’s the mother ship. Now I know where all the little bathrooms come from.”

Despite Christy’s upset mood, he began to laugh.

“Crap, I’m going to stop talking.”

Christy leaned against the long, granite counter and coughed.

Michael’s cell phone rang. He withdrew it from his pocket and held it up to Christy. “Damp. Your fault,” he said before looking at the screen. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to his mom. “Hey, Mom…. Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. What’s the matter…? Coach called you…? Yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m at Christy’s…. No…. No…. No…. Mom, Mom, calm down and listen to what you’re saying…. Mom! You can’t talk to Christy because he can’t talk, not because I won’t let you! Yeah, he’s fine, I’m fine, everybody’s fine…. Jake called you too? I’m going to kill him…. Okay, Jake’s pissed off, but fine…. Oh my God, Mom, I’m not going to the office so I can sit in a fourteen-inch chair and watch a fish tank with a bunch of snot-nosed two-year-olds so Dad can check me out…. Forget it. I’d rather have major back surgery…. Lame threat…. Because I hardly ever watch TV…. I’m not being disrespectful. It’s true.”

Christy motioned Michael to the door, and Michael followed him from the bathroom. “Hang on, Mom. Where are we going?”

Christy whispered, “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh God, Christy just took your side, Mom! I’m scarred for life! I’ll never forgive you for this! See you in forty minutes.” He terminated the call and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I do not want to go down there.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Christy crossed the room and opened it.

“Everything okay?” Rob looked concerned.

Christy pointed at Michael.

Michael sighed. “Sorry, Rob. That was me talking to my mom.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I got punched at practice, and Mom wants me to go to the office so Dad can check me out.”

“Are you all right?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“If you’re going to your father’s office, would you mind taking Darien with you? He’s due for a vaccination, and it doesn’t make sense for Christy to take him in a cab if you’re going to go there as well.”

Michael turned to Christy. “Why didn’t you tell me you had to go to my dad’s office?”

Christy gave him an incredulous look before reaching for his pad and scribbling
Caught up in the moment
. Then he crossed out the moment and wrote
YOU!

“Right. Okay. Yes, we can take Darien with us.”

“Great. You might want to change clothes before you go.”

“Wha—? Oh.” Michael flushed crimson. “Good suggestion.” He gave Rob a thumbs-up.

“I’ll have Darien ready in fifteen minutes.” He closed the door softly as he left.

Michael turned to Christy. “We can’t go to my dad’s office with evidence of debauchery all over us. That’s just too high on the freaky weird scale for me. Shower?”

 

 

C
HRISTY
handed Michael a thick, overly fluffy towel and left the bathroom. Michael set it on the counter with a pair of sweats he’d retrieved from his car, then turned the shower on. He undressed quickly and stepped in. He bowed his head and let the water soak him, relishing the feel of the warm spray on his bruised face and abdomen.
They
. The single word inferring the plural ate at him. More than one.
More than one
person had abused Christy. The mere thought made Michael want to rail at the heavens. He turned when he heard the quiet click of the shower door and found Christy standing in the doorway looking as if he were about to cry and asking silent permission to join him. Michael’s heart nearly broke in two as he reached for him and brought him into his arms.

Never had Michael imagined being entirely nude with Christy and feeling nothing sexual in the moment. It was odd, but it wasn’t. He could only guess what it meant to Christy. Christy’s guttural words had shocked him, but the last three words shot agonizing sorrow for Christy through his heart.
Because he must.
Michael couldn’t imagine being abused by one person, let alone multiple people, but the thought that Christy felt he
had
to be or, worse yet,
deserved
to be abused was just too much for his mind to process. His heart ached for Christy as he held him against his chest, comforting him through his silent sobs. After a while, his sobs slowed and died away. “You going to be okay?”

Christy nodded.

He kissed the top of his sodden head. “You ready to get out?”

Christy nodded again.

After they toweled off, they shared a small smile over Michael’s inability to help Christy with his long hair. Michael tousled it and, when Christy bound it over his head in the towel, Michael paused.
Whoa.
If Christy wore makeup, he’d be as pretty as his cousin and…
as pretty as Andrej
. And the idea appealed to Michael. A lot. He tried to push the images from his mind, but they lingered.

“I know what you see.” Christy’s words were suddenly hot, accusatory.

This had clearly turned into Christy’s day to be angry. “What do I see?”

“You want what all of them wanted from me.”

All of them
. This just kept getting better and better. Christy’s words stung, and Michael wanted to scream as he pulled his sweatpants on. He began to ask what Christy thought he saw but decided that it didn’t matter. Christy was wrong. “You will never see in my eyes what you have seen in the eyes of your abusers.”

“I do.”

“Christy,” Michael began evenly.

“I see it. I am… an it. A thing to use.”

That
was
it. Michael’s anger rose to meet Christy’s, and he stepped forward. “You know what you are, Christy? You are beautiful, and your throat is damaged and, if you don’t stop talking nonsense, I’m going to kiss you so you can’t speak at all.”

“You can’t defend yourself.”

“I don’t need to defend myself because you’re totally wrong about what I was thinking. Stop talking. You’re ruining your voice.”

Christy looked up at him, accusation large in his eyes. “What were you thinking?”

“It might offend you in another way.”

“Tell me,” Christy demanded.

Michael breathed deeply. The literature emphasized the importance of patience and honesty, and Michael knew in his heart there was no way that he and Christy would survive unless Michael was honest. From the beginning and all of the time. “When I saw you with the towel wrapped around your hair, you reminded me of your cousin.” His better judgment told him to leave Andrej’s name out of it. “And I thought you would be as beautiful as she is if you wore makeup. I’m sorry. I can’t help thinking how pretty you are every time I look at you.” There. Michael said it. “What do you want to wear?”

Christy blinked up at him slowly, once, twice.

“Okay, fine. I’ll get your clothes. Where are they?”

“In the closet,” Christy whispered.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Christy.” Michael chastised himself silently for the warning tone in his voice.
Patience
.

Christy pointed to the door at the end of the vast bathroom, and Michael strode across the room. Christy dashed ahead of him, turned, and stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I’ll get them.”

“Fine.”

“Do you truly believe I’m as beautiful as Sophia?”

“Yes. You could be twins.”

Christy looked away, his eyes filling with that faraway look again. “Sometimes I would like to be like her.”

“I don’t blame you. She’s gorgeous.”

“I mean I would like to… wear things… the clothes… the makeup.” Christy’s words were soft, nearly inaudible.

Michael’s eyes narrowed on Christy as he fought to recall what he’d read in the literature. There hadn’t been anything on dressing, and he had no idea how to respond. Michael’s thoughts suddenly turned inward. Hadn’t
he
been the one to think Christy would be pretty in makeup? How many times had he looked at Andrej’s pictures and wished he had a boyfriend like her? How many times had he traced the blond curls, the fine features of her face, the curve of her lips? How many times had he prayed to every power in existence for a boyfriend like Andrej? “Okay,” he said softly.

“Do you think poorly of me?”

Michael was worried about Christy, exhausted, exasperated. The only things he knew right now were that Christy was gorgeous, and he was committed to doing whatever it took to take care of him. “Christy, I couldn’t think poorly of you if Nurse Ratched held me at syringe-point and threatened me with a lobotomy. Now, let me help you get dressed.”

Christy slipped into the closet and closed the door. He returned moments later with an armful of clothes and handed them to Michael with shaking hands.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Christy nodded. “Sometimes I am weak when I am upset.”

Christy tried to step into a pair of boxers and tripped. Michael set the clothes aside and took the boxers from his hands. “Why are you wearing these? Go get your pretty underwear.”

“I do not want your father to see it.”

“Why would he see it? You’re not the one being examined.”

Christy slipped into the closet and returned a moment later wearing white lace.
Holy crap! Christy looked sexy as hell.
He took a deep, calming breath and slammed the door on his imagination. “Very nice.” He squatted and held the jeans, and Christy held onto Michael’s shoulders as he stepped into them.

BOOK: Omorphi
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