Stripped Bare (39 page)

Shane shifted and raised an enquiring eyebrow. “And this involves me how?” He sniggered as Matthew slapped his arm in frustration, leaving a mark. “Babe, violence never solved anything. Not unless you fancy slapping my arse. Now
that
I can deal with.”

Matthew’s cock twitched at that thought of slapping Shane’s backside until it was pink and rosy. It certainly had its attractions. Shane glanced down at the tenting duvet cover where Matthew lay and caressed what was under it softly.

“You like that idea,” he murmured with a leer. “I’ll put it on the menu for later.”

Matthew was slowly losing control of this conversation. “Shay,” he growled again. He pushed his lover’s hand away from his hardened member. “I want you to find some dirt on him that we can send to the authorities. Maybe that will land Walter in jail where he belongs.”

Shane chuckled. “I was just teasing you. But there is something you need to consider.” He leaned forward earnestly. “We can’t do this to send Walter to prison.”

Matthew stared at him in disbelief. “Why the hell not? “

Shane shook his head. “David. We can’t be the ones responsible for sending his dad to jail. It would kill him and any relationship we have with him. And he’ll never agree to us doing this. You know he won’t.”

Matthew felt his heart sink. Shane was right. David might have been able to deal with the blackmail situation but Matthew had seen the look of relief on David’s face when his father had capitulated back at the Debussy house and returned his son’s trust fund. He wasn’t sure if David would have had the guts to take it the step further as they’d threatened.

“I hadn’t thought of that, how bloody stupid of me. I was so gung ho to get him some justice I forgot about David. Shit.” He ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “So what now then? We just leave the bastard to carry on living the life of Riley?” Matthew’s voice grew fierce. “He doesn’t deserve to get away scot-free, Shay. Not after what he did to you. Because no matter what he says, he played a part in Roy hurting you like he did. And my dad, I’m sure of it.”

Shane nodded sadly. “I don’t think we have a choice. I can’t even send an anonymous tip to anyone. If David found out about it I’d be his number one suspect. And I don’t want to lose him, Matty. He’s one of the Gay Musketeers, too.”

Matthew nodded and sighed. “I guess we need to forget the whole idea then.”

Shane moved closer to Matthew, his eyes darkened. “I have to say I like this side to you,” he murmured. “The whole ‘Avenging Angel’ thing is pretty hot.” He leaned forward, pressing his naked body against Matthew’s chest, and his lips took Matthew’s. Matthew closed his eyes at the feel of his boyfriend’s mouth on his, hungry and demanding. Shane tasted of sex, spice and pure lust. His tongue probed Matthew’s mouth like a small fish trying to find a place to hide. Matthew moaned as Shane chuckled against his lips.

“Can I play with you now, Matty?” he whispered as his hands slid underneath the covers and once again Matthew felt a firm grip around his aching cock. Matthew could only gasp as Shane then slid down his body, pushing away the covers and took him in his mouth. He lay back, watching Shane’s head bob up and down as he devoured Matthew with practised moves and very obvious enjoyment. Matthew closed his eyes and gave into the havoc his lover was wreaking upon his body. There was time for more talk later. Right now it was playtime.

A week later Shane and Matthew sat together in an Italian restaurant with a group of friends. Everyone who meant anything in Shane and Matthew’s life was gathered around the table. Timmy, David and Marco sat to one side, Julia and Bartholomew the other. Food smells wafted over the restaurant making Matthew’s mouth water. They’d finished their starters and were about to tuck into their mains. David swallowed a mouthful of lasagne and waved his fork as he opened his mouth to speak, narrowly missing hitting Timmy in the eye. The big man shook his head in amusement.

“David, my friend, you and that fork are a dangerous combination. That is now the second time you have nearly poked my eye out.”

David finished his mouthful as the rest of the diners chuckled. “Sorry, Timmy. I wanted to ask Matthew what happened when he went to see that prick Roy. I’ve been waiting for an update. I think we all have.”

The table fell quiet as Matthew and Shane looked at each other.

Shane toyed with the stem of his wineglass. “When we met him in the prison to find out why he said what he’d said, he was a prick just as you’d expect.”

Matthew clasped his lover’s warm hand as it sat on top of the table. The meeting had not been easy for Shane. He’d been tough as nails the whole time he’d sat there in front of the man who had tried to kill him, but when he’d left the small room, he’d fallen apart. Matthew had to make him sit down as his panic attack had taken hold of him. Shane continued his story.

“When Matthew asked him about his dad’s death the bastard actually laughed.” He took a deep breath. Matthew’s hand tightened on Shane’s. This part of the conversation had been hard for him too. “I honestly thought Matty was going to deck him.”

Matthew sighed. “I restrained myself because I didn’t want to soil my hands with the likes of that animal.” His eyes gazed at the tabletop, focused on the salt pot in the middle of the table. “Roy went to talk to my dad to convince him not to go to the police with Walter’s videotape. My dad said nothing he said could change his mind. So Roy told him he’d come after me.” He paused then his voice quietened. “Well, you don’t want to know what he intended doing to me.”

Shane and he had sat sickened whilst Roy was spouting his disgusting profanities involving various blunt implements, Matthew’s backside and a well-aimed baseball bat, obviously Roy’s preferred weapon of choice.

“My dad got upset that he was threatening me. Then Roy shoved him against the wall and that was it. Dad had a heart attack.” Matthew gazed down at the table as Shane’s hand caressed his. “Roy just watched and waited for my dad to die. He knew that if that happened, Walter’s problems were over. Of course, he never thought that my dad might have sent me a copy. That never crossed his mind. If it had, or if my dad had told him, things might have been different.” He shrugged. “But it didn’t happen. When dad was dead Roy just walked out. He didn’t even call an ambulance or anything. He just fucking left my father lying there.” His voice tightened. The thought of his father dying alone and in fear for his son was something he could never forgive or forget. He raised his eyes to Bartholomew who sat stock still. “Sorry, Shane’s potty mouth is rubbing off on me.”

David opened his mouth with a grin to say something, but Marco shook his head slightly at his boyfriend, his dark eyes soft. David’s mouth closed. Bartholomew leaned over and touched Matthew’s hand.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before, Matthew. What happened then? What can the police do about all this?”

Matthew shrugged. “The police say there’s not much they can do about it. My dad died a natural death; even though it was provoked and there’s not much they can do about it. But his attempted murder trial is coming up, and with Shay and Timmy testifying, we’re hoping he’ll spend a long time in prison.” His face twisted. “I hope someone makes him their boyfriend.”

Timmy’s face darkened. “I too felt the same way when I found you on the pavement. I have never wanted to hurt a man as badly as that night.” He scowled.

Shane smiled at him. “My hero. I know I’ve said it before but thanks for that. If you hadn’t come out when you did…” He shivered. “Things might be a little different.”

Timmy grinned, white teeth in his dark face. “The Zulu people have a saying: ‘Darkness conceals the hippopotamus.’”

There was stunned silence at this rather profound statement.

Shane was the first one to speak. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Matthew shook his head even as he tried to control his laughter at the confusion in Shane’s voice and the bad language.

Timmy laughed loudly. “It means, Shanester, that he might have accomplished what he wanted to do. But I would never have rested until I had found him, and beaten the hippo out of the dark into the light. He could not hide forever.” He smiled wolfishly. “Then I would have had my revenge.”

The table was silent and Shane reached over and took Timmy’s hand. “Thanks for that, Timmy.” His voice sounded choked. “I’m glad I made it. The thought of you in London hunting a hippopotamus boggles the brain.”

The table erupted into laughter. After it had died down, Matthew leaned forward.

“Walter of course denies all knowledge about the whole thing. He says he never told Roy to go see Dad.”

Bartholomew nodded. “Did you all see Debussy on the TV a couple of days ago, when that reporter was interviewing him about his connection to Roy Parsons?”

Everyone nodded. They had indeed seen the footage of the unfortunate interviewer being given the full force of Walter’s ire and looking as if he wanted to hit the young man.

David looked down at the table as he spoke, his fingers straightening an imaginary crease in the tablecloth. “He said he had no idea that Roy was capable of such violence and that he was a vicious little psychopath who belonged in prison.” He gave a harsh laugh. “He’s a consummate bloody liar, my dad. How could he say that after what he let Roy do to me?” His voice trembled.

Marco leaned over and covered his lover’s hands with his. “David, he’s out of your life. You have me now.” The two men smiled at each other with affection.

Matthew regarded them both. “Of course, the only thing Walter
was
worried about was the video getting out as revenge for Roy’s attack on Shane.” Matthew’s voice quietened. “While I’d love to make him pay for what he did, that’s not how I operate. The bastard will never pay for that discretion or any others, as much as I wish I could see him behind bars.” Matthew looked at David. “Sorry, David, I know he’s your father.”

“He’s not my father.” David said. His face was hard. “Any more than Lewis is my brother. But I’m glad you feel that way. It’s time this whole sordid story was put to rest. I don’t really want to see my dad go to prison. I just want to forget it all.”

Matthew looked at Shane as they shared a secret glance, remembering their earlier conversation. Marco’s face was wreathed in sympathy.

“Maybe one day things will be different,
mi amor
,” he murmured softly.

David shook his head. “Never,” he said grimly.

Shane shifted. He looked uncomfortable. “David, despite everything, maybe you shouldn’t be like me and give up on him. My dad seems to have changed. At least we’re talking now.”

Matthew smiled softly. Shane and Ray were indeed “in dialogue” as Shane called it haughtily, and things seemed to be getting better each week. At least Shane had accepted that his father might be trying to make amends. He was still prickly about it, but Matthew knew he was at least now willing to try and speak to his father. It wouldn’t be an easy task for Ray to mend the bridges with his son, but the future looked rosier than it had.

The other good news was that no one seemed to have connected Shane with the hack on the adoption centre. Matthew was quite sure if he’d been found out, he’d already have been questioned by the police—or worse, by Neil Busby and his team. It was small comfort but the longer it was quiet, the easier he breathed. There was nothing else he could do about that. Shane was confident they never would find him, and that was good enough for him.

David shook his head. “It’s not going to happen. But I appreciate the sentiment. If I ever need to talk to anyone about it I know who to come to.” He smiled gratefully at Shane.

Bartholomew leaned forward and touched Matthew’s arm. “It’s a terrible story, Matthew. But your father spoke to you from beyond the grave eventually, and Roy is now brought to justice.”

“But if he hadn’t tried to kill Shane, we’d never have known any of this.” Matthew’s voice was harsh. “I’d rather have never known anything about it than have Shane hurt like he was.”

“But I’m fine now, Matty, and Roy is in custody.” Shane kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. “The headaches are getting better, my ribs are healed and I’m almost normal.” He grinned. “At least as close to normal as I can get.”

Julia had been sitting quietly spellbound at the tale unfolding at the table. She giggled now, alleviating some of the tenseness at the table. “That isn’t a word I’d use to describe either of you. You are two infuriating, exasperating men. But I do love you both.” She looked at Matthew. “When do you leave for Dresden, Matthew, for your holiday?”

Shane leaned forward, his eyes shining, interrupting Matthew as he was about to reply. “In a couple of weeks’ time. We leave from London City and then it’s time for two weeks of doing nothing. It’s going to be great. I get to meet Matty’s mom, and his sister is flying in from wherever she is to see us, too. We’re going to take a boat down the Elbe. Matty promised me he’d take me to see the sunset in Saxon, Switzerland from the top of the mountains as well. Apparently that’s quite something to see.” He stopped aware everyone was looking at him.

“Thank you, oh Saxony tourist guide,” Matthew said drily. He grinned at Julia and cocked a thumb in Shane’s direction. “What he said. We’re going to stay at the family home and then I can take this one sightseeing before he self-combusts with excitement.” He leered. “Although, Shay, what’s going to happen to you when you hear all that German being spoken around you, I dread to think. I think I might be in for a hard time.”

The table roared with laughter and Shane grinned.

Two days later Shane was dressing to go out to dinner with Matthew as he watched the news on TV. He froze as he heard a familiar name being mentioned. On the TV screen was a static shot of the scowling visage of Walter Debussy outside his office building, flanked by two burly and official-looking men. Shane felt a shiver of disgust run down his spine at the sight of the man. He called out to Matthew who was still in the bathroom.

“Matty? You might want to see this. There’s something going on with that wanker Debussy on telly.”