Chapter 30
You tell me I don't care, tell me I never try
I said I'm sorry maybe a million times
It's gonna hurt ya if I don't say goodbye
You don't believe me, you don't believe me
I just want the best for you
I just want the best for you
But I'm just not the best for you
You don't want what I'm gonna put ya through
Best 4 You by Maroon 5
The Greyhound Bus pulled into the NYC Port Authority at 3:20 pm. The moment the bus came to a stop, weary passengers stood up, stretched, and started moving towards the door. Most had boarded at some point in New York State. Only one had boarded in Ohio. He stood up, adjusted his baseball cap, and exited the bus quickly. He carried only a backpack so no need to wait for the bus driver to open the luggage section.
Once outside he turned left and walked several blocks until he reached a small diner. He entered and sat down at the counter. The waitress came over and placed a menu in front of him.
"Hi, hon. What'll be?"
"Cup of coffee. Black."
"Anything else?"
"No, thank you."
He took a few sips of the coffee and watched the weather report on the small TV mounted above the counter.
15 minutes later a well-dressed man walked in carrying a briefcase and a folded newspaper. He sat down one seat over. The waitress placed a menu in front of him.
"Hi, hon. What'll be?"
"How about a piece of cherry pie?"
"Gotcha. Anything else?"
"No. That's all, thanks."
The two men didn't speak or even exchange glances. The one sipped his coffee. The other ate his pie. Once finished, he left a $5.00 bill on the counter.
And his newspaper.
He left.
The other man finished his coffee and placed $2.00 on the counter. He stood up, threw his backpack over his shoulder, picked up the newspaper and walked out.
He headed to the subway station where he purchased a one-month pass and hopped the train. As the train sped along he opened the newspaper and slipped the prepared documents into his backpack: an Iowa driver's license, a birth certificate, a work history, and a passport.
He exited the train near 157th Street and continued on foot, paying little attention to the cafes, boutiques and salons he passed. He kept going until he reached the rougher, grimier part of the neighborhood near East Harlem. He slowed down to scan the street for his destination, a rundown, dirty gray building.
The VonMote Hotel.
He pulled open the heavy windowless black door and entered a wide dirty entryway that hadn't been swept in years. There was a brown counter with a Welcome-Please Ring Bell sign. He rang the bell and waited.
A middle-aged man wearing a wash worn NY Mets shirt and old jeans shuffled out from a small room.
"Help ya?"
"Room for a month."
The man looked the customer up and down trying to figure out if he had enough money to pay for a month stay.
"A month, huh?"
"Yeah. Maybe longer."
"Well, rooms run $119 a day."
"How much if I pay cash?"
The man's eyes lit up. "Cash?"
"Yeah. Cash."
"Still $119 a day."
The man's eyes grew wide as the customer took out a huge wad of bills.
"Tell ya what? Here's $7,000 cash. Two months. No questions, no paperwork."
"Uh, sure. Okay, okay." The man could barely conceal his excitement. No paperwork meant the money could go straight into his pocket. He handed the customer a key. "Room 206."
"Thanks."
"Sure. Yeah. My pleasure. Name's Jessie if you need anything. Housekeeping once a week!" he yelled as the customer walked away.
The room was larger than he expected and surprisingly clean. There was a king size bed with a dingy, faded comforter, a nightstand, television and small desk. Small bathroom and closet.
He opened his backpack and took out a few toiletries along with several guns, a silencer and a knife.
He peeled off his jacket, took off the baseball hat and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Long, messy, curly black hair – the longest he'd ever let it grow – held back with a rubber band. Full beard, black wire-rimmed glasses, gold hoop earrings in both ears, and a very intricate set of henna tattoos on both arms.
He stared at his reflection for several minutes before picking up a gun. He cocked it and pointed it at the mirror.
I'm coming for you, Chartussi. You fat motherfucker.
Kurt took a deep breath and entered the academic hall.
First day of school.
This year Kurt enjoyed the luxury of moving into his room a week early like everyone else. This meant being honest with his father about his new room situation.
Burt walked to the center of Blaine's room and looked around while shaking his head. Kurt leaned against the door frame and braced himself for his father's reaction.
"Are you kidding me? This is your room?"
"Yes."
"I don't understand. Last year you were sharing a closet." Burt spotted the bathroom. "A bathroom? Kurt, what's going on?"
"Blaine's not coming back until second quarter so he arranged for me to have his room." That was the truth. "I'll move out in January when he returns." That was the lie.
"You take me for an idiot, Kurt? You've never been a liar, so don't start now. There's no need for it. You think I don't know you sleep in his bed when you go to his house?"
Kurt turned red from both shame and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I was trying to spare you parental angst, or…something."
Burt softened his tone. "So, where is Blaine?"
Kurt shook his head. "He's getting his father's affairs in order." Also known as avenging his death.
Burt sighed. "You know what? I don't really wanna know. I just hope you'll use this time to make some new friends. Preferably ones who won't get you kidnapped."
Kurt nodded. That was actually exactly what he planned to do. Despite the absence of Blaine, Kurt was determined to have a fabulous, fun-filled, memory making senior year. He planned to join a few school clubs, spend time hanging with the Warblers to really get to know them in a way he hadn't last year, and he planned to make things right with Andrew. He still felt bad about how things ended. Maybe now they could really be friends, especially since Andrew was seeing someone.
"Don't worry dad. I plan on having a great senior year."
Kurt walked along the hallway smiling and greeting people he saw. He slowed down to look for his first bell, English.
"Hey."
"Telio! Hi!" Kurt couldn't help himself. He gave Telio a big hug. Telio didn't return the embrace. When Kurt pulled back Telio was scowling at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Sorry, but I'm happy to see you."
"Yeah, okay. Whatever. Let's get you to English."
He started walking. Kurt followed but then stopped.
"How did you know I have English first bell?"
Telio rolled his eyes. "I know your entire schedule. Now come on. You're about to be late."
Kurt followed him. He glanced around and then leaned in. "Have you talked to…" Telio cut him off.
"No, and I won't be, so don't ask."
"Why not? I mean, I know I can't but I thought you…"
"Because he's undercover, Kurt. No more questions."
Kurt nodded and looked at the floor. Telio glanced at him. Kurt's expression was pure heartbreak and worry.
They stopped in front of the English classroom. Telio pulled Kurt away from the door and into the doorway of another room.
Blaine is gonna kill me. He's gonna get seven men to beat the shit outta me because he knows he can't do it himself and then he's gonna shoot me.
"Listen, I know you love him, but this is your chance, Kurt. You need to move on. You need to find someone safer to be with. Look, I know I'm not saying anything you don't already know. You know better than anyone what being with him means. What it can lead to. How it can hurt you. So, you need to protect yourself and do what's best for you, and that means moving on."
"What? You…you think I should move on? I don't…"
"He's my brother and my best friend. I love him more than anyone on earth, and I'd kill for him without hesitation, but that doesn't mean I'm blind to his faults, his weaknesses, or when he's wrong. I don't wanna hurt him, but I don't wanna see you end up dead either. While he's gone this may be the last chance you have to escape. Take it."
And with that Telio turned and headed down the hall.
Kurt was so shocked and confused he didn't even hear the bell ring.
The bald-headed, mustached manager gave him a hard look as he snatched the driver's license out of his hand.
"Says you're from Iowa."
"Yes sir."
"How'd ya find out about the job?"
"A friend of mine knew a guy. Joe…Joe Patterson. Said I could make good money."
The manager nodded approvingly. "Yeah, I know, Joe. Real good guy." He handed the license to a tall man dressed all in black who was standing behind him flipping through pages on a clipboard. He studied the license, flipped through a few pages, scanned one and nodded.
"He's clear."
The manager took the license from him and handed it back.
"So, the job ain't nothing fancy. Emptying garbage cans, cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming hallways, and running errands when necessary. Building owner is a real private bigshot. Don't like to be bothered unless he requests something. Has a lotta security so expect to be searched every morning. You show up on time, do your job, go where you're supposed to, stay outta where you ain't and you'll be fine."
The manager looked at him for a moment more before nodding. "Okay. Go down the hall to the door marked processing. They'll get ya your ID and take care of the rest of the paperwork."
An older woman named Sally took his photo, and then had him fill out paperwork while she made his ID.
"Can I ask a question?"
Sally looked up. "Sure, love."
"The manager said a bigshot owns the building. Who?"
Sally leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered her voice. "Frank Chartussi. You ever heard of him?"
He shook his head. "Well, he's richer than God. A big crime boss. They say there's a room in the basement of this building filled with the bodies of people he's killed."
Sally leaned back, nodding her head confidently with a knowing expression.
He nodded and returned to his paperwork. Once finished, Sally looked everything over and gave him his ID.
"Okay, love. 7:00 am tomorrow morning. Back entrance. don't be late."
"Thank you. I won't."
Once outside the building, he walked 5 blocks over to a diner. He sat at the counter and ordered a black coffee. He took a newspaper out of his backpack and placed it on the counter.
A few minutes later a well-dressed man came in, sat two seats down and ordered a slice of apple pie to go. The man paid for his pie and left, taking the newspaper with him. He waited until he was in his Town car to open it.
Scrawled in black letters were the words, "I'm in."
Telio's cell phone buzzed in the middle of his AP American History class. He sneaked a glance while Mr. Jenike was focused on making a point on a map.
He's in.
Telio typed back Thanks and then deleted both messages.
Okay, Blaine. Be careful. Kill him quickly and come home.
That evening Kurt spread all his books and syllabi out on the bed and sighed. It may be senior year, but Dalton wasn't about to let anyone cakewalk to graduation. He had a very challenging academic year ahead of him. For a moment he thought about McKinley.
You could transfer back…it's not like there's a reason to be here…
Kurt looked around the bedroom and suddenly felt incredibly lonely.
No. I'm not doing this. Life does not and cannot revolve around Blaine.
He gathered up his books, packed his bookbag and headed over to the library. There were several other seniors who appeared to have come to the same conclusion as Kurt. He found a table and was about to sit down when he spotted Andrew.
Wow.
Even sitting Kurt could tell Andrew had grown a few inches taller over the summer. His hair was cut shorter than usual and he looked more muscular. He suddenly laughed and…wow. Andrew had gone from being really cute to hot. Super handsome hot.
Kurt held his head high and headed over to the table.
"Hey Andrew."
Andrew looked up. Wow. I was right to fall for him. He's even more gorgeous now than before.
"Hi."
Kurt smiled. "How are you? How was your summer?"
Andrew smiled bright and happy at the boy sitting across from him. "My summer was amazing. Best summer of my life."
The boy smiled back with equal amounts of joy. Kurt looked between the two of them. They were staring at each other in that way that only lovers do. Several seconds passed and it was obvious they'd forgotten all about Kurt.
"That's great."
Andrew suddenly remembered Kurt was standing there.
"Yeah. Um, this is my boyfriend, Ryan Dawson. Ryan, this is Kurt."
Ryan's smile turned smug. "Oh, so this is Kurt." He said it with emphasis as he looked Kurt up and down.
Kurt could only imagine what Andrew had told him. Whatever it was he figured he deserved it. He decided to remain nice despite feeling his inner bitch rising to the surface.
"Nice to meet you, Ryan. Are you new to Dalton?"
Andrew nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's crazy. We actually met at art camp up in Connecticut..."
Ryan interjected, "And we totally hit it off and then things took a turn..." The lover smile returned.
"Yeah, so we figured we'd just enjoy the summer and then…"
"My dad gets transferred to Columbus!"
"And Ryan ends up enrolling at Dalton! It's just…it's amazing." Andrew reached across the table and took Ryan's hand in his. They returned to staring at each other.
Kurt suddenly felt ridiculous. Like he was intruding on an intimate moment.
"Wow. That's…that's amazing. Really. That's…that's really wonderful."
Andrew gave him a sincere smile. "Yeah. Thanks. How was your summer?"
Oh, nothing special. I was kidnapped, almost raped, beaten up, committed a few murders, spent time in the hospital, had sex in the back room of a gay club in Belize, and survived a constant tug-of-war between my mob boyfriend and my dad.
"It was good. Fine. Nothing special."
Andrew nodded. An awkward silence developed so Kurt figured it was time to go.
"So, um…I just wanted to say hi. It was nice meeting you, Ryan."
"You, too. And thank you."
"For what?"
"For treating Andrew like shit. You did me a huge favor."
"Ryan!" exclaimed Andrew.
Kurt allowed his inner bitch to break free. He crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on Ryan.
"You're welcome. I just hope you're man enough to keep him."
He turned on his heel and left. He didn't stop until he was back in his room. He dropped his bag and threw himself on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before grabbing his phone. Then he remembered.
He couldn't call Blaine.
He couldn't even text him.
"I won't be able to communicate with you at all. Nothing. I won't even have my phone. I'm sorry."
Kurt put the phone down. He thought about how happy Ryan and Andrew looked holding hands and sharing knowing looks of love. It wasn't fair.
Sure, it is. You didn't choose a normal teenage boy. You chose a man who has a complicated life.
Wait…technically that's not true. He wasn't a complicated man when I chose him. He was just Blaine Warbler.
Fine. So, what do you want to do? Stop loving him? Is that what you want? Like Telio said – find someone safer.
"No."
Kurt sat up. Oh, God. It hasn't been a week and I'm losing it. How am I gonna…
There was a knock at the door. Kurt opened it to find Telio standing there.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Back to the library."
"But why?"
Telio gave him a pointed look.
"How did you know…"
"Because I know everything."
Kurt grabbed his bag. As they walked he looked at Telio with renewed affection and appreciation. He thought about their early conversation.
"Did you mean what you said? About me leaving Blaine."
"I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it."
True. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Telio being honest.
Even when he didn't want him to be.
He looked over the freshly cleaned bathroom with a deep sense of pride. It was shiny and spotless. Not bad for someone who'd never cleaned a bathroom a day in his life until a month ago.
His schedule was pretty straight forward. He arrived every morning at 7:00 am. Everyone on the building team entered through metal detectors at the backdoor. They were all patted down and their bags randomly searched. Only then were they allowed to stow things in the locker room, gather their cleaning tools, prepare their cart and start the day.
Given his true mission, his assigned floors were perfect: 8-13. Chartussi's main suite of offices were on the 13th floor. There were guards everywhere, but he quickly learned that if he looked incredibly engrossed in his work they would forget he was there and start talking.
"Hey, where's that shipment coming in from again?"
"Des Moines, Iowa. Day after tomorrow."
"Did you pick up the guns from Freedo?"
"Yeah. They're in Gus's car. He'll drive 'em over to Brooklyn tonight."
"Did you seen that girl Mikey picked up last night? Holy shit her tits were enormous!"
"Ayy, Mikey can't handle that. Probably didn't even fuck her."
"That hijack of one of the Anderson trucks was crazy, right?
"Yeah, that shit was bold as fuck. I can't believe we didn't lose anybody."
It was shocking how much detail they shared in front of him. And worrisome. His men didn't talk this much, did they?
Everyone on the cleaning crew had 30 minutes for lunch. They usually gathered at a few picnic tables set up in the back parking lot. He never spoke to anyone but that didn't stop a friendly Mexican man named Juan from talking to him nonstop every day. In one month he had learned that Juan had 8-year old twin daughters back in Mexico living with his mother. The girl's mother – Juan's then girlfriend – dropped them off one day and disappeared. Juan finally heard through friends that she had taken up with a big drug dealer and was living in the lap of luxury. She didn't want the children back and she didn't want Juan. Desperate for work to support his family, Juan reached out to a cousin in New York for help. The cousin arranged everything and Juan managed to fly into the United States completely legal and with all the right paperwork. It wasn't until he arrived that he learned his cousin worked for the Chartussis. Juan had no interest in getting mixed up with drugs so the cousin helped him get a job cleaning Chartussi's building.
"But I don't care, ya know? I'm just glad to be here. But I miss my girls. I really miss them."
That's when Juan would go quiet and the two would sit in silence.
Yeah. I miss someone too.
"I'm in love with an uptown girllllll…."
Wes clapped enthusiastically. "Great job, Nick! Excellent! This is what I'm talking about guys. We can do this. We can!"
The Warblers clapped each other on the back and tried to mimic Wes's forced enthusiasm. The loss of Blaine hit the group harder the second time around because sectionals took place in the fall. The idea of going to sectionals without Blaine seemed unthinkable. Wes and David were working overtime to instill confidence in the group.
"Alright everybody. Same time tomorrow. Thanks for the hard work." Wes smiled reassuringly at everyone as they gathered their bags and headed out.
"Hey, Kurt you got a minute?"
Kurt nodded and sat down on the couch. He'd wondered when Wes would get around to interrogating him.
Wes waited until everyone left before sitting down next to him.
"So, how you doing?"
"I'm fine. You know. A little lonely, but I'm okay."
"Any word?
Kurt shook his head. "No and I don't expect it. He was pretty clear."
Wes nodded. "Okay. Well, the real reason I wanted to talk to you is because…I don't know what happened, but there's someone who wants to join, actually rejoin the Warblers, but for some reason that he won't disclose to me, he's terrified."
Kurt shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
Wes looked incredibly uncomfortable but determined.
"I don't get it. He joined last year because of you and Blaine, and now he's…"
"Wait? Are you talking about Timothy?"
At that moment Timothy slowly emerged from a corner of the room where he'd been hiding behind a potted plant like a timid, wounded animal. Kurt stared at him.
Wow.
Timothy had grown about 3 inches taller and for the first time ever his clothes fit, actually hugging his body which was now filled out and muscular. His normally messy blonde hair had been cut short making him look older and his blue eyes were clear and rested. Kurt was reminded of the actor Chris Pine.
"Timothy? Wow. Hi."
Timothy may have looked taller and stronger, but his voice was as quiet and broken as ever as he wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to cry.
"Hi Kurt. I…um…I…I'm…"
Suddenly Timothy lunged forward and fell to his knees at Kurt's feet. Kurt and Wes stared at him in shock.
"I'm sorry, Kurt! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know Cooper would do that to you. I…I…I wasn't thinking clearly. I knew it was wrong, but…I was so addicted. So fucking addicted and he kept giving it to me for free, and…I knew it was wrong, but…I just couldn't stop, and I'm so stupid, and I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"
Timothy covered his face with his hands as loud sobs wracked his body. Kurt and Wes stood there confused and speechless.
"You should cry. You almost got us all killed."
Everyone turned to see Telio standing in the door of the music room looking at Timothy in disgust.
Kurt was completely confused. "What's going on? What are you talking about? Telio, what is he talking about?"
Telio shook his head. "Let me guess. Blaine never told you."
"Told me what?"
Telio looked at Timothy. "Since you're in confession mode why don't you tell him."
Timothy started crying harder pushing Kurt from confusion to frustration.
"What is going on!" Kurt leaned down and gently placed a hand on Timothy's shoulder.
"Timothy? Timothy, stop crying. I don't know what you're talking about. What did you do?"
"C-C-Cooper. I…I…I helped him. I told him stuff about you and…and he used it to kidnap you. What happened to you was my fault, Kurt. It was all my fault and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"But, Timothy…that doesn't make any sense. What could you have possibly told Cooper about me?"
Timothy managed to look up. His eyes were red and full of tears. "A-a-about your dad's shop. I told him how you worked there alone."
Kurt stood up and thought back to the time he'd spent with Timothy.
What part of town do you live in?
How's your dad's campaign going?
Are you home alone a lot?
How often do you work at the shop?
Do you ever work there alone?
Kurt started feeling dizzy and a little sick. "You told Cooper things about me to help him kidnap me and kill Blaine?"
Timothy vigorously shook his head. "No! No! I mean…yeah, I told him stuff but I didn't know he was gonna take you and try to hurt Blaine!"
"Why did you think he was asking about me? What did you think he was going to do!"
Tears continued to roll down Timothy's face. "I didn't know! I wasn't thinking! He gave me so much cocaine, and…and I couldn't stop!"
"Timothy!" screamed Kurt. "How could you? How could you do that to us? We were your friends!"
"I know! I know! I'm sorry!"
Kurt felt emotionally overwhelmed. Angry, sad, foolish and betrayed. He sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands.
Telio had moved from the doorway to leaning against the piano. He felt bad for Kurt. Why does Blaine always try to keep him in the dark?
Wes was still standing there looking between Kurt and Timothy as if watching a tennis match. He was shocked and confused by everything he'd just heard and was trying to process it all. He looked at Kurt and spoke slowly.
"Um…when exactly were you kidnapped?"
Kurt looked up at him and sighed deep and long. He felt exhausted.
"I don't…I can't…I…"
Wes quickly shook his head. "No. No. Never mind. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No," said Kurt. Now he felt bad for Wes. "It's not…I just…a lot happened this summer and…it was really rough and difficult and…I just don't want to think about it anymore. It happened, it's over, we survived."
Wes nodded. "Yes. Yes. Absolutely. All that matters is that you're okay and Blaine's okay." He turned and looked at Telio. "And that you're okay, too."
Telio arched an eyebrow. "Gee. Thanks."
Wes's expression changed from concerned to disapproving when he turned to look at Timothy. Timothy was still on his knees with his arms wrapped tight around his body. His face was red and blotchy from all the crying.
"As for you, well now I get it. No wonder you were terrified to show your face in this room. How dare you betray the two people who tried to help you and be your friend!"
Timothy nodded and whispered, "I know. I know. I'm sorry."
Wes assumed his in-command posture. "I'm sorry, Timothy but I can't see how I can allow you to remain in the Warblers. You've broken every rule in the handbook and some that we never even thought to write."
Timothy nodded sadly. "I understand."
Kurt looked up. "Wait." He looked at Timothy who was staring at the floor. "Timothy, look at me."
Timothy slowly shifted his gaze and stared directly into Kurt's eyes.
"I'm really, really sorry, Kurt. I swear…I didn't know what Cooper was planning to do. If I had I would have warned Blaine. Please. You have to know that."
Kurt stared at him. For the first time since they'd met, Timothy looked healthy. His eyes were red from crying, but there was no trace of the dead-eyed drug look he usually wore. His body looked full and strong. Despite what he'd just learned, a tiny spark of guilty forgiveness was attempting to take root. Kurt crushed it. He couldn't. Not yet.
"I believe you, Timothy but…I can't forgive you. Not right now…if ever."
Timothy nodded sadly. "I know. I understand. I'm just glad you're okay. I'm glad Blaine's okay and that Cooper and that other guy didn't kill you."
"What other guy?"
"That guy. I don't remember his name. I thought he was Telio and Blaine's friend, but then he was about to shoot you and I shot him and…I don't know. It was all so confusing."
Telio had been quietly listening but now he perked up. "Hold up. You shot who?"
"That one guy. You know. The guy that came with you and Blaine when you came to my house and then we went to the warehouse."
Telio nodded. "Yeah, I remember."
So, that's how he got shot. The little asshole got shot, ran to his dad's and then showed back up at the compound. What a sneaky bastard. Rest in hell, Elian.
"Whatever happened to him?"
"He's dead."
Timothy's eyes grew wide and filled with fresh tears. "You mean I…"
"No, you idiot. You didn't kill him. He just…crossed the wrong person and got stabbed." Telio avoided looking at Kurt who was staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.
Wes was still standing but looked like he might pass out.
"Okay. It's getting late, and we're all gonna miss dinner if we don't go now, so…" Wes trailed off looking lost. He'd heard and learned way too much in one evening. Telio pushed off from his spot against the piano and walked over to Wes.
"I assume this room is Vegas."
Wes nodded. "Of course. Blaine's one of my closest friends. I would never do anything to hurt him, or you, or Kurt." Wes glared at Timothy. "Or even you, Timothy."
Timothy was staring at Kurt as if willing him to forgive him.
"Kurt…I really am sorry and I hope you can forgive me one day. Just so you know I spent the rest of the summer getting clean. For real this time. I mean it. I never wanna hurt anyone for drugs again. I went to this super strict rehab this time. Not a country club. I had to exercise like three times a day, and there was a diet, and sessions and stuff. It was hard. Really hard…and I cried a lot, but I'm clean and I'm gonna stay that way. I promise."
Kurt didn't know how he was supposed to respond. At that moment he was filled with so much hatred for Timothy, but also deep sorrow. To be so addicted to cocaine that you would betray the only friends you had? And that stupid spark had turned into a tiny voice in his head.
Being in the Warblers will help him stay clean. He needs friends. Positive influences.
Kurt shook his head.
No. Isn't that what you thought you were doing before? That's what helped create this mess.
Kurt suddenly stood up. "I'm not hungry." And with that he walked out. Telio quickly followed him.
"You okay?"
Kurt shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. I can't believe Timothy…and why didn't Blaine tell me about it?"
Telio shook his head. "I really don't know, Kurt. I assumed he had."
They kept walking until Telio spoke again.
"I guess it doesn't really make up for anything, but it sounds like in the end Timothy saved you from getting shot by Elian."
Kurt was pissed. "Oh, great. So, I'm supposed to just forgive him, right?"
"I didn't say that. I don't give a fuck if you forgive him or not. I'm just saying…"
Kurt was too emotionally charged for this conversation.
He exploded.
"Yeah, Telio, you're always just saying! Saying I should break up with Blaine! Saying whatever it is Blaine won't! You're always just saying! But you know what you won't say? You won't say you're just as bad as Blaine! You climb up on your moral mountain and make pronouncements about how you're better than him because you won't say you love Alicia, and you want her, and you need her! Oh, no! You won't say that! Instead you just say shit to ruin everybody else's happiness!"
Telio didn't move, nor did his expression change.
Kurt sagged against the bedroom door with tears running down his face.
"I'm sorry, Telio. I...I didn't mean that. I'm just…"
Telio said nothing.
"I'm sorry. I'm…I'm going to bed."
Kurt unlocked the door and went inside slamming it behind him. He threw his bookbag across the room and threw himself on his bed.
He cried himself to sleep.
Miles away in Florida, Anastasia Anderson prepared for her 5th date with the perfectly respectable, Brad Sanderson. She was wearing sleek white pants with a sleeveless white top that showed off her suntanned arms which were adorned with several gold bangle bracelets. Her hair hung straight down her back and she wore large gold statement earrings. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, the bracelets took her back in time. She closed her eyes and sank into the memory.
"I realize my possessiveness is over the top, but it's only because your beauty is so over the top. I own so much, Stasia. Beautiful cars, beautiful artwork, but by far you are the single most beautiful possession I own. And just like I lock up my other priceless, beautiful possessions, I have to lock you up as well."
She pulled at the gold handcuffs attaching her wrists to her ankles and purred. Mario stroked her hair.
"I'm going to take you for hours, my love. I'm going to fill you and then you leave you like this while I attend a meeting. I hope my cum trickling out of you will remind you of your place and why you exist. You exist for my pleasure my love, but…I'll admit...I exist for you as well."
"Anastasia? Honey…isn't that outfit a little…young?"
Anastasia opened her eyes and saw her sister's concerned face reflected behind her.
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't know. Your arms and shoulders are all out and so much…large jewelry. Things with Brad have been going so well and you said he was taking you to meet a business associate. You don't want to appear…unsuitable."
"Unsuitable? Unsuitable for what?"
"Marriage."
"Marriage? Annalise, I am not marrying Brad."
"Why not? He's attractive, wealthy, belongs to the right social circles, and is completely head over heels about you. You've been seeing him for some time now…"
Anastasia interrupted. "This is our fifth date!"
"And he keeps asking you out. Anastasia, please don't mess this up. I just wanna see you happy."
"Are you insane? My husband was just buried! It hasn't even been 6 months! I am not looking to get married. Least of all to someone like Brad."
"What's wrong with Brad?"
Anastasia sighed. "Look, I'm glad you're happy with a man like Doug. I really am, but what makes you happy is not what makes me happy."
"You don't know who or what makes you happy. You were trapped in a horrible marriage to a…"
"Stop it! You have to stop! He was my husband, Annalise and I loved him and you have been nothing but disrespectful, judgmental and pushy since I got here. I loved him! I loved him so much and you act like that meant nothing! Stop!"
Annalise took a step back. "Fine. Screw things up with Brad. What do I care? It's your life."
"Yes, it is. My life. Mine, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I appreciate your concern, Annalise, but you and I…we have different wants. Needs. I'm not you. I don't want your life, but I also don't stand in judgement of it. I simply ask that you give me the same courtesy."
Annalise shook her head in defeat. "I'll let you finish getting ready."
A&L&A&L
45 minutes later Anastasia was being helped out of Brad's BMW by a valet and standing in front of one of the most beautiful homes she'd ever seen.
"Wow. This is beautiful."
Brad looked at the house disapprovingly. "Yes, Lucian is known for his ridiculously extravagant taste."
As they entered the foyer, Anastasia felt something but she didn't know what it was. Just…something. A feeling.
The huge living room was filled with beautiful people milling about looking fashionable and fabulous. Anastasia felt validated about her outfit. She was dressed perfectly.
Brad looked around nervously seeking their host. "We'll just say a quick hello and then get out of here."
"Why? What's the hurry?"
"I only agreed to stop by because he's a new sizable investor in our firm. What possessed the board to allow his investment is beyond me."
"What's wrong with him?"
"You'll see."
As they made their way through the house and out to the back patio, Anastasia felt an increasingly nervous anticipation. She was grateful when they stepped outside into the night air.
"Ah, there he is."
They made their way towards a cluster of people. Brad navigated his way through.
"Lucian?"
A man wearing a white suit turned from the woman he was talking to and stood up.
"Ah, Brad how nice of you…" he trailed off as his eyes landed on Anastasia. Anastasia suddenly felt breathless and entirely too warm.
Lucian reached over, took her hand and slowly rose it to his lips for a kiss. "Anastasia Anderson."
"Do I know you?"
"No, but I knew your late husband and can I just say that his stories of being married to the absolutely most stunning woman on the planet were not exaggerated in the least."
Lucian had long wavy black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Dark eyes, smooth dark bronze skin, his face covered in a light mustache and beard. He was wearing a white linen suit with a gold chain around his neck. He looked smooth, handsome, and dangerous.
Anastasia was mesmerized and intrigued. She'd never met anyone who knew her husband outside of their intimate world.
"You knew my husband?"
"Yes. Mario and I worked on a few projects together. I'm so sorry for your loss. He was a brilliant man."
Anastasia nodded as she stared into Lucian's eyes. Lucian stared back. Brad cleared his throat.
"We won't keep you from your other guests. I just wanted to stop by to say hello and thank you for your business. We're all very excited to have you engaged and look forward to a prosperous and successful working relationship."
Lucian didn't take his eyes off Anastasia. "Thank you, Brad. Anastasia, allow me to get you a drink."
Brad shook his head. "Oh, that won't be necessary. We're about to…"
Anastasia cut Brad off. "A white wine, please."
"Of course. And you, Brad?"
Brad reluctantly agreed to a brandy. Lucian snapped his fingers and the crowd sitting on the couch dispersed. A server appeared, listened intently to Lucian and hurried off.
"Please sit."
Brad tried to maneuver in order to sit between Anastasia and Lucian, but Lucian was too quick for him. He quickly guided her so she was seated between the two men. Lucian sat down, took her hand and focused entirely on her.
"Tell me. How have you been since losing Mario? How are you doing?"
It was the first time anyone had asked her how she was doing. Not Blaine, not the business, but her.
Anastasia started talking and didn't stop. Words poured from her as she shared her thoughts, emotions and feelings from the past 8 months. Lucian never turned away or said a word. He simply listened and nodded, holding her hand the entire time, completely oblivious to his house full of guests.
Brad sipped his brandy while growing increasingly annoyed. He'd had no intentions of staying this long. This was supposed to be a quick visit on behalf of the company and then off to a quiet dinner at Samba. Not an evening spent in the company of a questionable character like Lucian St. Mark.
Lucian didn't move until a man came over and whispered in his ear. He gestured toward three men standing by the pool. Lucian nodded and turned back to Anastasia.
"My apologies, but I must tend to something. Promise me you won't leave?"
Brad leapt to his feet. "Actually, we really must be going. We have reservations."
Lucian smiled knowingly. "Of course." He took a card out of his pocket and pressed it into Anastasia's hand. "It was a divine pleasure meeting you. Please don't hesitate to contact me if I can be of assistance in any way during your stay in Florida. If there's anything…anything I can do for you, just ask and consider it done."
Anastasia nodded. "Thank you."
She watched Lucian walk towards the three men and disappear into the house. It felt so familiar.
And strangely comforting.
Brad placed an arm possessively around her waist and quickly guided her towards the exit. Once they were in his car Brad started talking in a rush.
"I'm so sorry. I just needed to stop by for a moment. I didn't mean for you to get trapped with that…criminal lothario."
Anastasia smiled.
Criminal lothario.
Oh, Annalise will not approve. Not at all.
It took Anastasia 5 days and ignoring several of Brad's calls to finally get the courage to dial Lucian's number. He answered on the first ring.
"I was starting to think I imagined it all. That you were merely a dream."
"I'm not in the habit of calling men."
"I'm sure you're not, so I'd better make it worth your while. Please honor me with the pleasure of your company for dinner this weekend. Friday at Noon through Sunday at 6:00 pm."
"That's a long dinner."
"Well, it takes my private jet about 8 hours to reach Paris. "
"Oh."
"There's a lovely French bistro I enjoy whenever I'm there. Perfect for dinner."
Anastasia was tempted but first and foremost she was a mob wife. Caution ran through her blood.
"If it's okay with you I'd rather start a little closer to home."
"Of course. Will Friday at 7:00 pm work for you?"
"Yes. I look forward to it."
"Not as much as I."
Anastasia hung up and sat quietly for a moment. She took a deep breath and dialed Blaine's number. The phone rang and rang. She hung up and dialed Telio.
"Hello?"
"Telio, it's Anastasia."
"Hi. How are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm good. How are you, darling?"
"I'm fine. Is everything okay?"
"Yes, yes, of course. I was just…I wanted to talk to Blaine, but he didn't answer and the voicemail didn't come on."
Shit.
Telio closed his eyes. Dammit. How could he tell her that the only birth son she had left was off on a dangerous mission to avenge his father? A mission he might not return from?
"Telio? Telio what's wrong? Where's Blaine?"
Kurt's right. I'm always telling people shit to make them unhappy.
"He's…out of town on business. Cleaning up a few of Mario's accounts. Putting a few projects to bed for good."
Anastasia gripped the phone tighter. "Does he plan to see a show while he's gone?"
Telio was surprised. Damn she's good.
"Possibly. You know how hard tickets are to get."
Anastasia blinked back tears. Blaine was in New York City. He was going to try and kill Chartussi.
"Well, I hope he plans to see some friends while he's there."
"Um…I think…yeah he plans to see some friends definitely." He wasn't about to tell her Blaine was all alone on a suicide mission.
"Okay. Please tell him to call me. I really need to talk to him."
"I will."
Anastasia switched gears and interrogated Telio about school and Alicia. It saddened her to hear him say he broke up with her.
"I hope you can work it out, Telio and if not, I hope you'll meet someone else. You deserve to fall in love."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, darling."
"Do you know if I have any family? Like…if my mother or father had brothers or sisters, or if their parents are alive?"
Anastasia was surprised and a little embarrassed that she'd never thought of it before.
"I honestly don't know. I don't know if Mario tried to find out or not. He just brought you home and I immediately knew that we needed to give you a home. I wanted to give you a home. You were so sad and…I just wanted to love you and take care of you. I still want to. I know you're a man now, but…I hope you know that despite everything…all the stuff about your mom and Mario…it doesn't change anything. I still love you. You're still my son and I love you."
Telio nodded despite being on the phone. It was nice to know he was still loved.
"I better go. I gotta study."
"Of course, darling. Take care of yourself and please tell Blaine to call me. If he can."
Kurt woke up Friday morning feeling stiff and emotionally drained from the night before. His eyes felt glued shut from the crying and his Dalton uniform definitely did not make good pajamas. He lay there staring at the ceiling for a while before sighing deeply and climbing out of bed.
He peeled off his uniform and took a hot shower. As he stood in front of the closet pulling out a fresh jacket, pants and shirt, he paused as he reached for a tie. Ties brought back so many memories…
He was kneeling on the floor locked in the wrist to ball restrainer. His cock was locked up tight in the cockcage and a tie was draped around his neck. They were staring into each other's eyes. Blaine's hazel eyes were dark with a demand for obedience, while Kurt's warm blue swam with submission and a plea to be taken. Blaine guided Kurt's mouth to his cock. As Kurt began to suck, Blaine picked up the ends of the tie and began to pull. Kurt struggled as the tie grew tighter and tighter around his neck. With each movement his balls were pulled, his cock pressed uselessly within the cage and Kurt drowned in the submissive cruel pleasure he was growing more addicted to everyday.
Kurt pulled himself out of his daydream and told his cock to calm down. He's not here and he won't be for a long time, so stop thinking about it.
He headed to the cafeteria for breakfast and found Wes sitting at the usual Warbler table staring into space instead of eating.
"Hi."
"Hey, Kurt. Morning."
Kurt sat down and took a few bites of cereal. He spotted Timothy sitting alone. Great. A dose of anger and guilt to start his morning. He turned to Wes.
"Listen. I'm not ready right now, but at some point…I can't believe I'm saying this…I think we should let Timothy come back to the Warblers."
Wes looked horrified. "Why? Why would we do that? Based on what I heard yesterday, why would you want him anywhere near you?"
"I don't. At least not right now, but maybe in time when I feel…I don't know what I need to feel. I just want you to keep it in mind. From what I've read addiction is hard and it's even harder when you feel all alone. Don't get me wrong, Wes. I hate him. I really, really hate him and I'm angry, and I feel betrayed and just…I can't be around him yet, but…in time…when I'm ready…I think we should let him back in. Maybe it'll help keep him clean. Besides, he does have a great voice."
Wes stared at him. "Kurt Hummel, you really are an amazing person."
Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm not. If I was amazing I'd say let him in now."
"The fact that you're even considering it makes you amazing to me. Seriously, Kurt. You've got a good heart."
Kurt couldn't help but return the smile Wes gave him.
As he headed to first bell Telio appeared by his side.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes. I'm so sorry about yesterday."
Telio shrugged. "You were upset."
"Still. You've always looked out for me and I know that hasn't been easy because you love Blaine first and most of all, so I want you to know that I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. And tried to tell me."
"Just cause I love Blaine doesn't mean I can't point out his bullshit. Blaine's a selfish asshole. All Andersons are. Except Anastasia."
They stopped at Kurt's first bell. Kurt looked at Telio and smiled. He decided to pay Wes's compliment forward.
"Telio, you're really amazing."
"What?
"You're amazing. You're an amazing person with a really good heart."
Telio made a face. "Yeah. Okay. Whatever."
Kurt laughed.
Maybe his senior year would be okay after all.
So, I struggled with where to include the Anastasia part in this chapter. It just didn't feel right at the end, so I hope you don't mind it being in the middle. I felt like Kurt needed a good night's rest before his story continued. Ha!
Next chapter: Blaine's Revenge