Fist to the Heart Chapter 16
Fist To The Heart – Ch. 6
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2019 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Chapter Sixteen – Soon To Be
Ruslan watched his father talking on the phone. That deep etch on his face, between his furrowed eyebrows let out nothing good. Who could the old man be talking to? The conversation was held in a hushed tone, and Ruslan didn't want to intrude, as he knew his adoptive father to be a man of great secrecy.
"I'm sorry, Russy, it was important," Douglas apologized as soon as he was off the phone with the mystery caller. "Do you want to tell me something?"
"How would you feel if I told you that you would soon become a father in law?" Ruslan chose his words carefully, but could not keep in a playful smile.
His father's eyes grew wide and then filled with fondness. "Should I gather that he said `yes'?"
Ruslan nodded happily. "All we need is your blessing. And, of course, Johnny's mom's, too, which is exactly what we plan for today. I thought about letting you know that I'm taking the day off from work. I know it's in short notice, but I still have plenty of leave days."
Douglas waved. "Do you really think you should worry about such things now, Russy? I know how much you work every day. You really are an asset for my business, and I didn't just give you a job to have something to come back home from. Take as many free days as you need to plan the wedding. Of course, unless you want me and Martin to take care of everything. We would love to do that."
Ruslan got up from his seat by the window and hurried to hug his dad. "I know I would, but Johnny would throw a fit. He becomes fidgety when he has nothing to do. And an imposed vacation wouldn't work on him. I must have him involved. And, seeing how the wedding won't happen sooner than several months --"
"Several months? I thought you, young people, are all for making things happen in a rush."
"Johnny and I decided that he should first liquidate his debts toward Francis Davenport."
"You mean he decided."
"Well, you know how he is," Ruslan said apologetically. "I could squeeze him into doing things how I want, but I am well aware how important his duty is to him."
"I would not call it duty, but plain blackmail," Douglas replied.
"Johnny doesn't quite see it that way. And, since he said he would marry me only after dealing with his past, I can't antagonize him much. I'd rather have him feel happy and free with his decisions, including the one to marry me."
"Ah, Russy, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that you wish to settle down. I would not want to go away without seeing you happy and protected. I have great trust in Johnny that he would do that."
"Hey, it goes both ways, and I'm not helpless," Ruslan protested. "And what's this talk about going away? You're not sick. Are you?"
Ruslan could feel familiar fear creeping in. The old man looked healthy, and nothing seemed wrong, but not all ailments could be easy to notice. He was no doctor to know about such things.
"I'm not sick; don't worry, Russy." Douglas caressed his hair slowly. "I want to know that you are in good hands. I would have expected it to happen many years from now, so I'm happy to see you don't throw your youth away on mindless and reckless entertainment. What's going on between you and Johnny, Russy, is real. Don't you ever forget that. Even if there are moments in life when you might feel differently, don't forget. You love Johnny, and he loves you just the same."
Ruslan scoffed to hide his nervousness from earlier. "We wouldn't get hitched if we weren't serious about one another. Have you ever been married, papa?"
Douglas smiled. "This isn't about me, right, Russy?"
"You never tell me anything." Ruslan pouted, pretending to be childish to rouse a reaction from his father.
"You'll know everything soon enough, my dear child. Soon enough."
Ruslan rolled his eyes. "You're just so mysterious."
"Maybe I exaggerate. But everything I have ever done was to protect you. Forgive an old man a few secrets or at least, to hold on to them a little while longer. Now, Russy, you go and see Johnny's mom. Don't forget that your soon to be husband just has to say the word, and I will arrange for his mother to be transferred to a better facility."
"I won't forget, but Johnny is stubborn. It's all about duty with this man. Of course, once we're married, I'll make sure he understands his new position."
"Make sure you do that." Douglas's face was all a smile.
***
"Do I look all right?" Ruslan patted down his shirt as if he was trying to smooth out imaginary wrinkles.
"You look beautiful," Johnny made doe eyes at him.
Ruslan snickered. "For you, maybe. But I must look good to see your mom, and not just my usual self. Are you going to tell her, Johnny, that we --"
"Of course. She might not understand or forget as soon as we're out the door, but I must try. I would not keep such a thing away from her. I'm getting hitched, and that's the kind of thing moms want to know about their boys."
Johnny looked so serious but in a solemn way. Ruslan felt like walking a bit stiffly, to make sure he didn't appear aloof, given the occasion. After all, he was on the point of meeting his mother in law, or soon to be, as he tried to correct himself mentally.
Ruslan was pleased to see that the care unit where Johnny's mom was housed seemed a decent enough place. Not that he would ever suspect Johnny of not doing everything he could to give his mother the care and protection he needed, but he knew well that limited funds could only do this much, particularly for people with special needs.
He breathed in, one last time, as the nurse nodded for them to proceed and walk down the hall. Johnny squeezed his hand. "Don't worry. She'll love you."
Ruslan wished he could share the same conviction, but the truth was he could not repress the nervousness that had seemed to be with him since he had decided to meet Johnny's mom.
Johnny opened the door and signaled for him to walk in. Ruslan entered and took in the small, grey-haired woman on the bed.
"Mom, this is Ruslan Kent," Johnny said first.
"Hello, Mrs. Bryne," Ruslan hurried to greet her.
"What a beautiful name. Who is this handsome man, Johnny? Is he a prince?"
As Johnny had said, his mother seemed out of it. Ruslan offered her the daffodil bouquet and the chocolate he had brought with him.
"Daffodils," Johnny's mom whispered, and touched the heads of the flowers gently as if she was afraid to disturb the arrangement. "And chocolate. Ah, Johnny, I haven't had Belgian chocolate since your father brought us from the hospital after I gave birth to you. I wish you could remember him as he was. Sometimes, he was a good man."
Ruslan could sense Johnny tensing as his mom mentioned his dad. He was about to say something and break the awkwardness threatening to tear this little get-together, but Johnny beat him to it.
"I'm getting married, mom. To Ruslan. I thought you should know."
For a couple of seconds, Johnny's mom looked a bit confused at her son, and then back at Ruslan. "Are you getting married to a prince?"
Ruslan exhaled in relief. He was afraid of many other reactions that could all be possible. "I am no prince, ma'am, I can assure you. I am sincerely flattered, but I'm just an ordinary person. Nonetheless, Johnny and I would like to have your blessing."
Johnny's mom took a long, thoughtful look at him. "Such beautiful golden hair." She raised one hand as if she wanted to touch Ruslan, but dropped it on the sheets without doing that. "Just like a prince. Will you take care of my Johnny? He gets in trouble sometimes. Someone like you could protect him and keep him from harm's way."
Ruslan threw a look at his lover. It might have seemed to some completely ludicrous that Ruslan should take care of Johnny, but he knew what his soon to be husband's mother wanted to say. He took the woman's frail hand in his. "I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect Johnny and that I will always love him."
Johnny's mom seemed delighted to hear that and squeezed Ruslan's hand, too. "I trust you. You are so beautiful."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Is Johnny good to you? His temper is too quick sometimes. He must take after his father."
"Yes, he is." Ruslan looked at Johnny with stars in his eyes. "You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Bryne. We will take good care of each other."
"That's good." Johnny's mom nodded. "It's everything you have in this world. Nothing else matters but the one you're sharing your life is. Is your father coming today, Johnny? I feel like I haven't spoken to him in years."
Ruslan could feel Johnny's pain at those words by how the big man shifted in his seat, making the chair under him sigh mournfully. "I would like to join Johnny when he visits you, Mrs. Bryne, if you allow it," he asked respectfully.
"I would like to see you again, Ruslan. Is your name Russian? It just sounds so exotic. Where are your parents from?"
"I am adopted, ma'am, so I wouldn't know," Ruslan replied promptly.
"Do you want me to brush your hair, mom?" Johnny intervened. "Ruslan can read you something."
Ruslan was sure he wasn't that much in need of saving, but he appreciated Johnny's care. It just showed, once more, how Johnny felt about him. He took a book from the nightstand and began reading out loud, after a few indications from Johnny's mom. At times, he stole looks at his lover, amazed to see those large hands which he knew to be rough, but gentle, skillfully brushing and braiding the woman's long, grey hair.
***
"So, what did you think?" Johnny asked, after a few minutes of silence.
They were on their way back, and they both seemed to be with their thoughts. Johnny was dying to know what Ruslan thought of his mom. Right now, he was so happy like he could not remember being too often before meeting Ruslan.
"You have her eyes, Johnny. I liked her a lot, and I'm seriously happy she didn't hate me although I think I butchered the names of some of the characters in the novel I read to her. Your mom really loves fantasy books, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, right now. It was pure torture when she was in her romance period. I had to read some pretty embarrassing things at times, I'm telling you. I skipped a lot, and I was lucky that she fell asleep fast. I might be the reason why she now prefers fantastic stories."
Ruslan laughed. "I had fun today, Johnny. And she gave us the blessing we came for. I want you to take me along when you go to visit her. As much as possible, I would like her to be part of our lives."
"You would?" Johnny looked at Ruslan, his heart big as the sun in his chest.
"Of course. I'm sure she can tell me a lot of embarrassing stuff from your childhood. I would not pass that for the world."
"Come here, pretty." Johnny pulled him close. "I'm a damn lucky bastard. You know that, right?"
"Make that two lucky bastards, Johnny. I'm so happy I met you." Ruslan leaned into the caress, as Johnny brought one hand to touch one smooth cheek.
They were on the backseat of a taxi, as Johnny wasn't big on showing off his lover's money. He knew that they were putting on a bit of a show for the driver, though, one of a different kind, but he couldn't care less. So he brought their mouths together and kissed Ruslan deeply, without giving a damn if the entire world was watching.
They were back at Ruslan's place before dinner. Johnny climbed out of the car and took a lungful of chilly air. The spring had yet to come fully. A small shiver made him pull his coat around him tightly.
Johnny looked around by force of habit. Now that was a bit odd. A man dressed in black, with a wide brim hat was tinkering something at a parked car. Ruslan's house was located in a pretty remote area, and seeing such domestic scenes was not quite a common occurrence. Also, he had a slight sensation that he had seen something like that before. That man appeared to be out of place there.
"Neighbor of yours?" he asked Ruslan and pointed at the man in black.
Ruslan shrugged. "I don't think so. But let's just say that I'm not big on neighborhood meetings, so I am not familiar at all with who lives around here. Let's hurry inside. I can't believe the weather is still so chilly. I wish summer were here already. What would you like to eat? I could whip out something, or we could order in. I'm fine with either."
Caught by Ruslan's happy chatting, Johnny turned his attention on his lover. And the annoying sensation that they were being watched by malevolent eyes slipped from his mind.
***
"We are invited today to join papa for dinner. Apparently, there will be some other guests, but papa didn't mention who they are," Ruslan leaned against Johnny and kissed him on the cheek. "We need to be a little formal if that's not too much for you to bear."
"I suppose that marrying up comes with strings attached, like dressing up for fancy dinners," Johnny joked and kissed Ruslan back. "I believe I can go through a formal dinner now without making a total fool of myself. Martin taught me all about that."
"Well, I'm glad he did. Is there something on your mind, Johnny? I've seen you lost in thought lately, more often than not. You're not getting cold feet about the wedding, are you?"
"I got no cold feet," Johnny replied. "Don't you worry your pretty head with that. It's just that I got this gut feeling that someone's been watching us."
"Can you tell me more about this gut feeling?" Ruslan asked.
Johnny shrugged. "Not much. It's like that man pretending to repair his car not far from your home a few days ago. He seemed pretty damn shady."
Ruslan seemed to ponder. "Just because he was fixing his car?"
"Yeah. I mean, in this kind of neighborhood? Who doesn't call some repair service? What was he trying to do? Change the oil dressed up in a suit?"
"Now, that you put it like this, it's kind of odd," Ruslan admitted. "Besides that man, what else did you notice?"
"I can't really say. I told you, it's more like a gut feeling. Just like that cockroach in the ring. He was trying to rile me up good about you. Don't tell me it was just smack talking. It was more."
"I believe you, Johnny. And that's why I asked papa to investigate more since he has the means. I'll tell him about all these, too."
"If anything happens, I will protect you," Johnny said as he pulled Ruslan close.
"Don't worry that much. Papa is a pretty influential man. He will find out everything and quench this, whatever it might be."
"You're my business now, not only your dad's," Johnny said.
Ruslan looked at him, a bit guiltily. "I know. I have relied on him for so long. I will rely on you from now on, right? Is this what you're trying to say?"
"You can bet that's what I'm trying to say," Johnny replied, pleased with how quickly Ruslan had realized what that was all about. "I'm by your side from here on out. Strapped to you like a friggin' gun."
"Hmm, that's quite the confession. I'll take it." Ruslan glued to him and nuzzled his neck. "I can't wait to get married, Johnny. Then I know you won't be able ever to get away from me."
"Big words, pretty. But there's no need to fear." Johnny caressed Ruslan's cheek slowly. "I'm not letting you go, either. So, what's this fancy dinner all about?"
"Maybe papa has like a big announcement to make or something. I can't really tell when he's all mysterious like that. We'll see when we get there."
Ruslan hugged him tightly. Johnny kissed him deeply, and then pushed him away. "Too bad we don't have time to fool around."
"Don't worry. We'll have plenty of that when we get back," Ruslan promised with a small smile.
***
Johnny could not shake off the feeling of uneasiness creeping in, as he walked inside Douglas Kent's house. The same dreadful, oppressing sensation that they were being watched didn't seem to let go of him.
The house was brightly lit, in waiting for the guests, and even that Johnny felt like an overwhelming detail that would not let him focus. Sometimes, in the ring, the lights felt like that, and he had learned to ignore all other senses except for the will to crash the man in front of him.
The same sensation overcame him when he walked with Ruslan, guided by Martin, to the impressive dining room. This was no usual, family only, dinner. And Johnny realized why he had felt like that as his eyes set on one of the people already seated at the table.
He pursed his lips and frowned. Ruslan squeezed his arm tightly, a clear sign of nervousness, in synch with what he was feeling. For Ruslan, it was a different reason, or better said, a different man to elicit such a reaction for him.
What could that mean? Why were the Davenports, both despicable father, and equally despicable son there? What was Douglas playing at?
"Welcome," Douglas said and stood up to come to them and embrace them.
"Papa, what's the meaning of this?" Ruslan asked what Johnny didn't dare. "Why are these people here? Why is Nigel here?"
Douglas's eyes were deep shadows, despite the bright lights shining over the room. Somehow, to Johnny, that very moment, the man looked older than he was, his face sallow. "I believe it is a good moment to bury the hatch. We will talk over dinner."
The guests stood up to greet them, and Johnny could not help but glare at the man who had changed his life and his mother's for the worse and continued to loom over them for years now.
With reluctance, he shook Francis Davenport's hand, but he refused to take Nigel's.
"For my sake, Johnny," Douglas said.
Nigel's eyes were glinting with something nasty in them as Johnny shook his hand. His half-smile disappeared, as Johnny's hold increased. Nigel rubbed his hand as soon as Johnny let go of him.
They sat at the table without a word. Johnny could sense Ruslan's restlessness without even looking at him. He looked at Douglas, but the old man's eyes and entire face were shut, hard to read.
"What my son did was unpardonable," Francis Davenport was the first to break the silence. "We are here to present our formal apologies. There is no need for bad blood between our families over something like this."
Johnny eyed the man across from him, trying hard to control his anger. "Something like this?" he asked through his teeth.
Francis Davenport looked like he had seen better days. Now, that they were side by side, Johnny could see clearly the resemblance between father and son. Only that, while Nigel was stout and healthy, at which his inbred arrogance came only to complete the picture, Francis looked small in his seat, the big bones supporting the expensive suit, but looking like the body underneath had not much to fill it with. Francis appeared ill, although he must have been younger than Douglas. Johnny could not stop thinking that the man who had ordered for him to be tortured looked nothing like the one who still came to visit him in his nightmares.
"Let's look at things with a cool head," Douglas intervened.
"Papa --" Ruslan started.
A single glance from Douglas was enough to shut up Ruslan who looked away, his face even paler than before.
"We are seeking to treat this situation as gentlemen," Francis continued, seemingly undisturbed by being interrupted. "It was all Nigel's fault," he looked over at his son with stern eyes, "and I feel that, as the head of the family, I need to step in and reestablish the status quo. Our families have known each other for a long time. It's only natural that we should continue in the same manner, despite mistakes committed by young people with no life experience and too much hubris to show off."
Johnny remained silent. He noted how Nigel seemed unaffected by being called out by his own father.
"We want to extend a friendly hand and do everything in our power to leave this behind us. Johnny, I know you still have some of your debt to pay."
"Don't you mean blackmail?" Ruslan spat, taking Johnny by surprise.
Francis smiled affably. "Johnny and I have an agreement. And I've known him to be someone who doesn't let others do the talking for him."
"I will pay you till the last dime," Johnny said, ignoring Francis's jab. "And that's final."
"Refusing a gift could be considered an insult," Francis warned.
"Gentlemen, please. I feel like this conversation, held in such an offhand manner, will take us nowhere," Douglas intervened. "It is important to us to reach an understanding tonight. To all of us," he added, and his eyes searched Johnny's as if the old man tried to tell him something without words.
Johnny wanted nothing else but to stand up and leave that fancy dinner with equally fancy guests. Fancy didn't equal honest, or fair. He could not understand how Douglas could do such a thing, and not only to him but to Ruslan, particularly given the circumstances. But this was the rich people's world, and he could understand none of it.
That was why he loved the ring. Even if some looked to cheat or hit below the belt, he could still do something about it. He would not feel helpless like he felt right now.
"What happened to my father?" he asked, setting his eyes on Francis.
"How should I know that?" Francis shrugged. "The only thing I know is that he ran off, leaving a massive debt behind him. The one you so honorably chose to take upon yourself."
"Big words don't work with me. What happened to my father?" Johnny repeated the question.
Francis shifted in his seat. Douglas didn't seem keen on taking sides this time around. Everyone at the table seemed to wait for the answer. It was like a boulder waiting to fall on the nicely arranged table and break the delicate china into smithereens.
"Johnny, Johnny," Francis showed his teeth, so fake that they appeared stark white against the ashen face, "you have always been so stubborn. It must be something you took after your father. He used to be that, too. Always thinking he would score big on the next hand."
"Used to? Why are you talking about him like that? Is he dead?" Johnny insisted.
"Seriously, Johnny, you're ruining my appetite. I have no idea what happened to your deadbeat dad."
"Then let me ask you something else. What happened to your wife?"
Francis seemed to sit straighter in his chair for a fraction of a second. In an unconscious gesture, he pulled at the collar of his shirt, as if he could not breathe easily.
"What wife?" Nigel intervened. "Mom? Why is he talking about mom?"
"Your mother chose to leave us, Nigel. I believe you're old enough not to make a scene. You were properly weaned when she left."
Nigel's healthy complexion drained of blood, not gradually, but in a second, like Francis had just used a magic wand to make it all disappear. It looked like those words had hit a little too close to home.
Nigel opened his mouth to say something else, but a stern look from his father shut him up. He chose to stare sullenly at his plate.
Johnny chose to press the matter further, anger slowly filling his skull, pulling a dark veil over his eyes. He clenched a napkin hard between his fingers. "My mother says that they ran off together, your wife and my old man."
"What? Is it true?" Nigel shouted. "Dad, is he telling the truth?"
"Nigel, shut it," Francis barked at him. "Johnny, your mother has been institutionalized for years. What is it? Early onset of dementia? She might not survive long, you know. And she might have found a way to cope with your father leaving her, in her addled brain."
Johnny could feel his teeth grinding. "She appeared pretty lucid when she said that. Even patients like her can have such moments, once in a while. And that threat you've just made? That's something I'll keep in mind."
He stood up, throwing the napkin on the table. Ruslan caught his arm and looked up at him with begging eyes. Johnny set his jaw hard. That wasn't about Ruslan at all. Right now, he needed to get out and get some air. His lungs felt oppressed in the air-conditioned room.
"What threat? It was merely an observation," Francis replied.
"We all know what it was, Francis," Douglas intervened. "I must admit that I was rather curious about the whole thing. It appears that you have not been completely honest with me."
Francis turned toward Douglas, his body tense, by what Johnny could tell. "I thought you invited us tonight in good faith, Douglas."
"That I did. But what I see right now makes me believe that my good faith and I are taken for fools. I would have expected a smidge of honesty from you, Francis. After all, we have known each other for so long, as you said. I have always treated you and your family with proper respect. I expect the same."
"Do you feel insulted by my conversation with Johnny? The last time I checked, he was not part of your family."
"I told you before that my benevolence extends over Johnny, too. As for his not being part of my family, that is something that will change, in paper and formally, in the foreseeable future."
Francis seemed taken aback by that. He threw Johnny an odd look and then he turned toward Douglas once more. "Really? That's surprising news. I thought you would aim higher for your only son."
"That is exactly what I'm doing," Douglas replied with a thin smile.
Johnny sat down again, Ruslan's hand dragging him. But it was not his lover's determination that stopped him from leaving. Right now, in his eyes, Douglas looked larger than life.
"Now let's all get back to being honest and what that means," Douglas continued. "I will have you know, Francis, that I am very well aware that a certain troublemaker in your, let's say, unofficial employment, was sent to make waves in my ring at Efige. In case your memory is still hazy, and you want to say that you have no idea what I'm talking about --"
"I have no idea --"
"Please, let me finish." Douglas put one hand up. "I am talking about a fighter by the name Luis Vallejo. Does it ring a bell? Or could it be that he used an alias when he joined my tournament? He was all for making Johnny lose his cool by insulting his relationship with Ruslan. Of course, he didn't succeed. And I guess he was the one to lose something that night."
"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Francis said with a deep frown on his face.
Johnny looked over at Nigel. Still with his head down, the asshole was smiling. "Maybe you're asking the wrong Davenport about that cockroach, Douglas," he said.
Francis's eyes slid over him, and then he looked at his son. "Nigel, what did I tell you? Why are you hiring riff-raff? Is this what you're doing nowadays?"
"Riff-raff?" Nigel sneered. "It's not like I'm doing things that different from you. You told me to see about my business in my own way. That's my own way."
"While I told you specifically that you were not to get close to the Kent family in any way," Francis said icily. "I think I've let you run amok far too long. I will adjust your role in the family business until you learn to behave."
Normally, Johnny would have suspected Francis of putting on a show, to fake that he wasn't involved with that final night of the tournament. But Johnny felt that the man was sincere. At the same time, Nigel wasn't good at faking anything. The asshole was proud of what he did, and he wanted to rub his dad's nose in a little. Johnny believed that the idea of this visit had not made Nigel too happy. He clearly had no intentions to bury the hatch, simply because he wanted to spite his father.
"But, dad," Nigel whined.
Francis might have spoiled the asshole rotten after his wife had taken off with Johnny's dad. And that was the result.
"We will see at home how we can adjust your behavior, too," Francis said.
Nigel turned sullen again.
"We apologize," Francis added, turning toward the others. "I will make sure nothing of the kind will repeat. I am interested in keeping the peace as much as you are, Douglas."
"I am glad to hear that. One more thing. The truth about Johnny's father."
Johnny stared in disbelief at Douglas, then at Francis. The man was grinding his teeth, and his sallow face was turning a deeper gray.
"Anything you say will remain between these walls, of course."
"Are you taking me for a fool, Douglas? You'll get nothing out of me."
Johnny understood what Ruslan's dad was doing. It was unorthodox, but the old man could be ruthless, and that was one of his faces he never showed to his son, without a doubt. Francis's refusal could also be considered an answer. Now Johnny had every reason to believe that something did happen to his dad and Francis's wife. Maybe they had had the fate spoken of by his mother, and they were six feet under, somewhere.
Still, it was cruel of Douglas to say that kind of thing in front of Nigel. The asshole clearly thought his mother had to be alive and well, somewhere. Johnny knew why Douglas had chosen to do that. Just as Francis, earlier, he was making threats, too. But his were far more subtle and more efficient. Johnny could bet Douglas could find out the truth, or maybe he already knew it. He wasn't sure he wanted to find what it was.
"No need to panic, Francis," Douglas said politely. "It was an obligation for me to ask. Now, please, let's enjoy our dinner."
"I'm afraid I lost my appetite." Francis stood up and made a gesture with his chin for his son to get up.
"Francis," Douglas said smoothly, "I don't like you to leave here upset."
"Douglas, you know, as always, how to play your cards well. I almost fell for your act. Everything is duly noted, in case you're wondering, which I doubt. Nigel, come."
"Martin will see you out." Douglas stood up and shook Francis's hand.
Nigel was ignored, on purpose. Johnny could not help but feel avenged.
Douglas's face was as calm as ever after the two guests made their exit. Even more, he was smiling now. "Would you, boys, like some potato salad? Martin made a lot, knowing how much you both like it. Unless, of course, you'd like to have the course on your plates."
Johnny stared at the fancy herbs arrangement on his and felt like laughing. "Douglas, I have to give it to you, man. You almost had me jump over the table and strangle the bastard."
"And ruin dinner?" Douglas laughed. "I know you're better behaved than that, Johnny. Forgive me if I kept you two in the dark about the whole thing. Consider it one of the many wedding gifts I'm planning to give you."
"Douglas, you didn't have to take care of my debt," Johnny protested.
"Nonsense, my dear boy. And I haven't paid a dime. Francis will have to adjust his books, too, not only his son's behavior."
"Papa, I don't know if I want to kiss you or strangle you. Have you always been this badass?" Ruslan asked, with a broad grin on his face.
"Badass is not a word I would like people to use to describe me," Douglas replied. "I am, after all, a businessman. And this was just my way of dealing with a situation that was bound to spin out of control."
"Nigel," Ruslan said, breathing out the word.
Johnny put one hand around Ruslan's shoulders.
"Yes. It wasn't difficult to find out who Luis Vallejo was and who sent him. I just wanted to make sure that Francis would see with his own eyes, what his son is capable of. Francis Davenport may be a bad man in his own rights, but he still has a moral compass of sorts."
"He has?" Johnny asked, somewhat aggressively.
Douglas sighed and placed both hands on the table, as he looked down at them as if he could get some inspiration on what to say next from them. "Yes. You know how the world is, Johnny. I would not lie to you. I trust Francis to keep his promise, unlike his unruly son. That boy is trouble."
"He's a lightweight," Johnny said with a scoff.
"Don't underestimate his meanness. Francis coddled him, and the result is a spoiled, rude, and downright reckless character. Nigel tried to hurt Ruslan because he thought he would get away with it. As usual."
"As usual?" Ruslan asked. "Do you mean there were others --"
"Without a doubt," Douglas interrupted him. "I should have looked more into Nigel Davenport, and not blindly believe the picture perfect image Francis painted of him. I knew Francis to be hard on everyone surrounding him, and I had not expected his son to be the exception."
"Why is it important to be on good terms with these scumbags, papa?" Ruslan gave voice to the same thing Johnny was thinking.
"Our world is an ecosystem of sorts," Douglas explained. "I guess men like Francis and me are the dinosaurs. New blood will take over. Francis needs to put his house in order, or there will be trouble. I wanted to make sure that the type of trouble resulting from the exchange of power that will soon happen will not touch us. He still has some time left, and he should use it to put that boy of his on the right path."
"Some time left? What do you mean?" Ruslan questioned right away.
"Francis Davenport is ill. Terminal, or so I hear. I won't go into details. It is bad taste to talk about another man's health. He needed to see his son for what Nigel truly is. Francis will get Nigel to understand what's expected of him, or he'll have enough judgment left to choose another replacement."
"Is Nigel that dangerous?" Ruslan asked.
"Not by himself. But his father's power, money, and connections could make him difficult if he keeps his ways. I am protecting my family. If Nigel doesn't understand how important it is to change, he'll embark soon on a path of self-destruction. I don't intend to let my family affected by the splatter."
"That's good thinking," Johnny admitted. "Douglas, can I ask you something? About my dad. Do you know where he is?"
Douglas shook his head. "Francis was careful to keep the secret of his wife's disappearance well hidden."
"He almost incriminated himself earlier," Ruslan pointed out.
"Almost doesn't mean a thing, Russy. And Francis knows that well. I tried to find out more, but it's too old history to be easy to unearth. I am sorry about that, Johnny. I wish I could tell you the truth about your father."
"That's okay," Johnny replied. "You've given me so much already. Oh, damn. I should have asked you about me marrying Ruslan, right?"
Ruslan snickered. "Seriously, Johnny. I basically proposed. You don't have to do a thing. It is you who are courted here, not the other way around."
Douglas laughed, too. "You two have my blessing. And I will continue my investigations and hopefully learn about your father and what happened to him."
Johnny nodded solemnly. "I would like to know, too. For mom's sake. And mine."
"Would it make a difference?" Ruslan touched his shoulder. "My parents abandoned me when I was in diapers or something, and I don't give a shit about them."
"Russy!" Douglas sounded rightfully appalled by Ruslan's comment.
It made Johnny wonder what was more offensive, the use of that four-letter word, or the implications of Ruslan's feelings toward his biological parents?
Ruslan huffed. "Seriously, papa, if they ever came to see me, like on those stupid TV shows, I would tell them to go where they came from because I already have a family."
Johnny looked at Douglas briefly and saw pride and happiness in the old man's eyes.
"Johnny's situation is different," Douglas pointed out. "He may want to know why his father chose to leave, or whether it was his choice or not. Isn't it so, Johnny?"
"I want to ask him why he left mom and me. He seemed to love her, you know? And me --" he trailed off.
Ruslan placed one hand over his and squeezed in sympathy.
"You'll know everything as soon as I learn the truth. Now let's enjoy our dinner. Ah, Martin, great timing," Douglas said.
The quiet butler began taking their plates and replacing them with what looked like much plainer, but definitely more filling and palatable food. Without a word, Martin took his place at the table, at Douglas's right. Now that was the kind of scene Johnny was now already used to. And he liked it.
***
"I forgot to tell papa about that man in black you saw a few days ago," Ruslan said the moment they were back home. "Damn, how could I forget?"
"Don't worry, pretty. You can tell him another time. And it might be nothing. Just my habit of looking over my shoulder all the time."
"Still, I wouldn't put this aside. I trust your gut as I trust you," Ruslan climbed his lap and looked him in the eyes. "That was pretty intense, wasn't it? Damn, I wanted to grab the salt and throw it into Nigel's face."
Johnny laughed, and rolled Ruslan on his back, fitting there, between his lover's long and slender legs as he had never fitted anywhere in his entire life. "I seriously doubt your papa would have tolerated that sort of behavior from your part."
"And?" Ruslan challenged him with his eyes. "He would have given me one of his looks, and that would have been all. Oh, I shiver just as I'm thinking of it," he added and pretended he was gripped by cold.
"I see that not only Nigel was spoilt rotten by his rich dad."
Ruslan laughed. "Yeah. But I didn't turn out a scumbag."
"That's true. Then it must be those looks you're talking about. Your dad is more efficient at being a father than that asshole."
Ruslan fell pensive and caressed Johnny's ears with his fingers. "How do you feel, Johnny? About all this with your dad and --"
"Don't worry, pretty. At this point, I'm not sure I even care that much. It's just something that's been with me a long time, is all. I don't have anything to put there. Maybe if I know what happened to him, I won't have to think about it all so much anymore. Chapter closed, and all that."
"That's good," Ruslan said half-heartedly.
"What's wrong?" Johnny asked, sensing his lover's sadness.
"I wasn't completely honest tonight, at dinner. I would care," Ruslan said. "You know, if my real parents showed up. I'd want answers, too. And I guess I might not be able to be that, I don't know, indifferent. I don't usually think about things like that," he added hurriedly. "And I definitely don't want to ruin the mood. I have a feeling you were trying to tell me something, or maybe do something."
Johnny leaned in to kiss Ruslan. "I can't wait to have you like this, as my husband."
Their crotches touched, and they were both pushing against each other now. "Really? Should we move the date earlier?"
"I saw you sending like a thousand or so invites. I don't want to watch you licking another thousand just to let people know of that. It would take too much of your precious time."
"Hmm," Ruslan purred as Johnny began kissing him lower, and lower.
They both had plenty of things to do the next day, so tonight Johnny wasn't at all about artful lovemaking. They only half-undressed, and Johnny entered his lover without that much preamble.
"It's okay," Ruslan whispered into his ear, as he hung to him as if for dear life. "You know by now that I won't break."
Johnny just nodded. Sometimes, he felt everything like it was too much. And then, he needed just to focus, on what was in his heart, and how his body moved, making a whole with Ruslan, like pieces of a puzzle. Only then, he felt all right, and happy, without thinking, for a moment, that this could all disappear like a night's shadows in the morning.
Later that night, as Johnny was close to falling asleep, he could only think of one thing: how happy he would be, for as long as he could see into the future.
***
Ruslan checked his messages, mostly absent-mindedly. Some were work-related, and some were just from acquaintances, hurrying to congratulate him on the upcoming wedding. Whenever he was with Johnny in the mornings, and he didn't want to have their sex sessions, no matter how short, interrupted, he put his phone on vibrate.
One message, however, was from his papa and that gave him pause. "Oh," he barely managed.
"What is it?" Johnny asked, getting out of the shower, in nothing but a towel.
"Francis Davenport died last night," Ruslan replied.
There was a short moment of silence as they looked at one another.
"Your dad told us he was ill," Johnny pointed out. "It's not that big a surprise, right?"
"It was only two weeks ago. Well, he was terminal, but isn't it a bit odd?" Ruslan wondered out loud.
Johnny shrugged. "I'm no doctor. And sorry if I won't shed a tear. I won't say `good riddance', either, although the scumbag had done a lot to hurt my family."
Ruslan tapped his phone against his lips. "Papa says that we should attend the funeral."
"Nah, I don't think I'll do that, pretty," Johnny replied. "Not even for your father's sake."
"Don't worry about that. I thought you would say that. It will be enough if I go."
"I don't want you to go, either." Johnny had crossed his arms over his chest and was now looking at him somewhat accusingly.
"Sorry, Johnny. That's non-negotiable. I have to be there. Be glad we're not married yet, or you'll have to be present, too."
Johnny worked his jaw and looked away. Ruslan stood up from the bed and touched Johnny's forearm briefly. "I will be okay. I will be with papa and Martin. It's just a formality. It's not like I'll keep a eulogy, telling the world what a wonderful man Francis Davenport was and how unlucky we are all to see him gone. Dead men can't hurt anyone, Johnny."
"Yeah, that's true," Johnny said with a short nod. "Dead men can't. It's the ones still kicking that can."
"Do you mean Nigel?" Ruslan asked. "You said it yourself. The guy's a lightweight."
"Yeah, and now, as your papa said, he has all his father's money, influence, and an army of scumbags at his beck and call."
It was Ruslan's turn to look away. Johnny was right. And he could sense unease, too, now. Nonetheless, he chose to downplay the restlessness setting in the pit of his stomach. "I bet Nigel is devastated over losing his father."
"I bet he isn't."
"Are we really fighting over this?"
"We're not fighting, Ruslan. I'm just telling you how it is."
There was no proper way to get Johnny to see reason when he was like that. Nigel Davenport was no topic of conversation that could make either of them happy.
"Well, if you think I'm in some danger for attending a funeral, you can always come with me."
"Okay, I will," Johnny said, but the words were pushed through his teeth like he didn't want to let them out. "If not for you, but to see that scumbag in that coffin and buried six feet under once and for all."
Ruslan shook his head. "Now I know for sure that I'm not letting you hold any kind of speech."
Johnny remained all a frown for a second, but then his face relaxed. "Don't worry, pretty. I'll behave."
Ruslan didn't like to force Johnny's hand in any way, especially in regards to such a delicate topic. But he had obligations to pay toward his papa, and that was one of them, even if the unpleasant kind.
TBC
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