CHAPTER 8

“What was it about earlier?” Brian asked his childhood friend. It was close to midnight, and the two of them were sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch, voices low to a whisper. “Something happened, your mood got gloomy, and I want to know why.”

“It was nothing, really.” Albert waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Alright, there was something that made me think about all the bad things that happened to me and how they were caused by my own inability to correctly judge people’s characters. For instance, I thought your friend Lawrence is gay, only to find out he’s attracted to women. As in…plural, two at the same time.”

Brian burst in a wild fit of laughter. “You mean Terry and Tracy? They are two little girls from The Base, rescued from an abusive, neglectful, toxic family environment. From the first moment they came to the sanctuary, Lawrence became their favorite person. He plans to adopt them.”

“Oh, fuck, no!” Albert groaned in embarrassment, covering his face with both hands. “How could I be so fucking stupid?” He looked at the librarian through his spread fingers. “See, I was right when I told you I’m the only one responsible for the mess my life is now.”

“Hey, buddy, take it easy on yourself, will you? The fact that you’re interested in Lawrence, although the two of you only met yesterday, and care about him enough to be jealous of two persons you thought were the competition doesn’t make you an asshole.”

Albert dropped his hands into his lap and stared blankly ahead. “I was married, too, but, after six happy years, Clayton, who was everything I could ever wish for in a husband, passed away. Three years of grieving later, I decided to try again. He stopped and inhaled sharply before continuing. “For this one, I was a punching bag and hole to fill. I’m not interested in starting another relationship. Not now, and not with a biker.”

Brian stayed silent for a while, hands balled into fists, then spoke between clenched teeth. “I know a few guys who would beat the fucker to a pulp. Just one word, and…”

Albert cut the librarian short with a gesture of his hand. “I hate the fucker, but no one can beat him, no one would dare. He's this big, mean, strong biker.” The man shook his head vehemently. “You don’t know Rick, he’s a devil.”

“I said the same thing about my ex, Cole.” Brian closed his eyes and breathed evenly for a few times before continuing in a shaky, barely audible voice. “I'm a survivor of domestic violence. That monster mentally, verbally, emotionally, sexually and physically abused me for four years.”

“I…I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Albert whispered, taking the librarian’s hand in his and looking into his eyes. “It makes me twice as happy for the life you have now.” He tried to smile. “Don’t worry about me, it’s over, he can’t hurt me anymore, and the kids are safe with my sister-in-law, who’s a police officer.”

It was Brian’s turn to shake his head. “Albert, you can't do this alone. Cole came after me three times, and did unspeakable things. He was going to beat me if I didn't go with him the last time. He kept trying to hurt me. My friends here helped me put Cole away for good. I know what kind of man you’re dealing with, because it happened to me, too.” He swallowed hard. “Please let someone help you even if it isn't me.”

Albert let out a long, heavy sight. “I have no one to turn to. I didn’t go to the police, it would have been in vain; you know what most of the officers think about gay men filing complaints for domestic violence. They would have laughed in my face while asking me about my favorite position. Besides, I didn’t want to put my sister-in-law in a bad light, plus, what if one or more of the detectives were on the bikers’ payroll?”

Brian nodded in understanding, his eyes filled with compassion for the man sitting next to him. “I know what you mean, I kept everything secret, too, and didn't even tell my parents. However, you need to make friends, have a support system you can rely on, people you can talk to whenever you feel overwhelmed.”

Albert huffed a bitter laugh. “Friends, you say? They are the first who turn their backs on you, or sell you down the river; please don’t say it’s not true, I experienced it firsthand right after Clayton’s death. Plus, I was never good at making friends, you were the fortunate exception.”

Brian smiled and leaned forward, looking into the other man’s eyes. “When I first came to the Base. I was broke, starving, and homeless. My car even broke down on the way here. I lost everything. They gave me a place to stay and an amazing job that I love. My employer was concerned about me and sent me to the clinic. I weighed one hundred fifty pounds and was malnourished. They took care of me and can help you, too.”

Once the walk down the memory lane started, Brian couldn’t stop; he felt the need to go to the beginnings of his own story of surviving abuse, so Albert can fully understand why it was so important to open up to other people. The right people, like those at The Base, who would take from their time to listen to him and offer the support he so much needed in rebuilding his life.

Brian started with the morning after that fateful frat party he attended at twenty-one, when he woke up nauseated, confused, and naked, a handsome guy laying next to him, also naked. With a huge grin on his face, the stranger in his bed told the then-college student how great last night was, and how much fun the two of them had between the sheets.

There was nothing wrong at first, Brian recalled, except the fact that he didn’t remember anything from the so-called epic night, which happened to be his first sexual experience. There was also the fact that the guy, whose name was Cole, unilaterally declared himself his boyfriend, but the na?ve sophomore found that very cute at the time.

And then, two years into their relationship, Edward was kidnapped while he was heading home from a friend’s place, a couple of yards away from their house. Brian, the last person who heard of him, was crushed by guilt and blamed himself for not being able to stop those who took his kid brother. The fact that the police stopped the searches and classified the file cold after only a few days didn’t help very much.

Cole, instead of comforting Brian and being supportive, intensified the abuse that already started a few months earlier, after the two of them argued over Cole refusing in very rude words to accompany his boyfriend to his parents’ house. The older man remorsefully apologized the next day, so the incident was forgiven and forgotten, except for the times when Cole was a bit too rough during sex, when it popped into his boyfriend’s mind.

Brian didn’t offer Albert a lot of details about the physical, verbal, mental, and sexual abuse his ex subjected him to the next three years; that wasn’t the purpose of his story. Besides, he was afraid the descriptions would trigger his friend, who, most likely, didn’t even start the healing process yet. However, he mentioned that, because his parents’ relationship was falling apart, he didn’t tell any of them anything about the hell he endured.

Brian’s words made Albert flinch imperceptibly, as he remembered that Rick’s abuse started around the time Mike, Brei-Ayn’s husband, was killed in the line of duty. It was also then when he gave into the biker’s pressure and sold the bakery, cutting ties with the only people who were there for him through thick and thin, his employees.

Like he would’ve read his best friend’s thoughts, Brian continued his story, recalling the period from after he left Cole. His apparent inability to keep a job, even if everything started great, caused him to be evicted from the tiny apartment he rented, and ended up sleeping in his car. Little did he know it was the abusive bastard's lies and intrigues, and not his professional incompetence, the reason his employers kept firing him.

At that point in his story, Brian’s posture changed, all the tension leaving his body, the pained, forlorn look in his eyes replaced by amusement. Huffing a short laugh, he started to tell Albert about the fortunate encounter with Mr. Parker and Serge Mills at the bikers’ bar where he wanted to drink himself to death, or almost, spending his last hundred-dollar bill on the strongest liquid poison they had.

“Everyone says I was lucky I didn’t meet Leon back then.” Brian laughed quietly. “He would have poured a glass of iced water over my head and probably would have lectured me, too. He can’t stand drunk people.” The librarian let out another short laugh. “Can’t say I don’t agree with him on this one.”

“Yup.” Albert nodded, popping the p. “The guy seems pretty intimidating to me, to say the least.” He shook his head. “Scratch that, he is intimidating.”

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” Brian grinned. “Once a librarian, always a librarian, but, joke aside, Leon is a big teddy bear with a marshmallow heart. According to Julien, he is a guardian angel of sorts for his cousins and uncles, kept bringing the long-lost ones home.”

Albert was intrigued by that story, but remembered a detail he noticed when examining the handyman’s tattoos and frowned. “How well do you know Leon? I mean, is he one of the people you spend time with, or do the two of you interact only occasionally?”

“It depends on how busy the two of us are, but I’d say we spend a minimum of two hours talking on various subjects. Among many things, he taught me Italian and Sicilian.”

“This explains a lot of things,” Albert muttered to himself, letting out a sigh of relief. “Back in the biker colony where Rick and I lived, there was an old guy who went by Old Jim, the owner of a tattoo parlor. He was my only friend, and, for more than two years, kept that bastard’s heavy hand away from me. Old Jim also taught me the meaning behind some tattoos, and, looking at Leon’s ink, I could figure out he was, or still is, part of the Mafia.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “Yes. It is common knowledge here, at The Base, that he served under two powerful Mafia families: the Fenellis and the Della Roveres. In fact, my good friend still acts as a bodyguard for the favorite son of Don Cesare-Eugenio Brentano-Fenelli, Elyan, also known as the coolest kid in all the lands.” The librarian stopped for a moment, then continued with an even wider and brighter smile. “You’ll love him, everyone does.”

“I’m sure I will, especially since you talk about him with so much affection.” Albert weakly smiled, then the shadow of doubt replaced the shine in his eyes. “Your story of abuse is very similar to mine in so many ways, that I got goosebumps while listening to it. Both our abusers waited until we were vulnerable to get us in their clutches and deprived us, one way or another, of our source of income.” He paused, swallowing hard. “What makes us different is that I don’t need to be surrounded by people to get better. On the contrary, I’d like to be alone for a while, just me and the children.”

Brian leaned forward and looked his friend straight in the eyes, his voice thick with emotion. “I've had amazing people that helped me. My stubbornness set me back a few times; I wasn't very trusting at first, but they taught me how. This is what I want for you, too.”