Caged: Retribution

Chapter 7

He didn't know when it happened but Todd had fallen asleep to a morning sun pouring in through the windows, to Rico's warmth even though he was whimpering in pain. The safety of Sylvia's house, Abram's snoring, and the certainty of vengeance lulled the hate and he fell against his lover, disappearing into a black deadness.

But Rico hadn't been anywhere near as peaceful. He began to fight sometime near noon, popping a fist at Todd's throat...

...and Todd was once again holding him tightly, restraining him, Rico's back to Todd's chest, such strength in that graceful silky body. Abram was growling, barked even… all to no effect.

"Cálmate….cálmate, mí mari…"

Useless growled words because Rico wasn't awake. He was so different from Todd… his nightmares that is, the reaction to terror in the midst of sleep. Unlike Todd, Rico got active, he fought and he fought like a motherfucker. Todd would just jerk out… people couldn't get close because awakeness blended quickly with dreams. Téa said he would toss and turn and while it was intense, the danger was in getting near him because he would wake up and think the person was his attacker. And Todd would fight then, but he'd be wide awake. One hit, one push, and he was done.

However, Rico… he fought deep inside of his dream, his body showing desperation in a terrible place. Doing everything he could to escape the monsters and unable to find safety in waking. Todd wrapped a leg around his legs. Held arms and hands... held him tight. "Brother...brother…. come on… mari… WAKE UP! Jesus!" For some reason the fight made Todd cry… he could feel the fear, the panic, the fight for his life. Empathetic tears ran down his face, hot and knowing.

Todd decided to take another stance. Fast, fast, he rolled over, sliding out from under Rico. He straddled him and quickly grabbed the whipping fists. Slammed them against Rico's chest. He lowered himself, got close to Rico's face, his dark eyes still closed, jaw tight, lips stretched in a ragged growl at his unknown attacker.

"RICO! WAKE UP! DESPIÉRTATE!"

Todd had shaken him hard enough, had spoken forcefully enough, that Rico suddenly came awake, stopped the fight. He gasped loudly, raggedly, eyes huge and looking all around. Panted like Abram, seeing his wrists in Todd's grip, seeing his lion right on top of him. Features crumpled then in realization and tears erupted. Todd just collapsed on him, laying his head down next to Rico's, mouth pressed on his shoulder.

"I was trying to save him, and I could not do it," Rico sobbed, holding Todd now with loose hands around his neck, who never moved, who didn't let Rico go. Kind of like Abram who was licking Rico's face now, licking the tears away, paws scratching at his side.

It took a while for Rico to regain himself, Todd never leaving his position on top, a hand caressing dark hair, knees squeezed on the mattress, body firm and embracing. Rico sniffled, "I am sorry, león. Did I hurt you?"

"No."

Todd shifted off to the side at Rico's urging. While Todd wore boxer briefs only, Rico was bare as the day he was born. Todd huddled against him and rested a heavy hand on his chest, his heart. Rico instinctively pressed it to him.

"I hurt," he said softly.

"Your brothers beat the shit out of you."

"Not like Yanko."

"Who were you trying to save, in your dream?"

"My brother, Hilario."

"You used to say you didn't dream."

The two men regarded each other. "I did not dream this way before. Only now."

"Maybe telling your story will help."

"Did it help you?"

Todd almost laughed because… did it help? Did talking about that shit help him? He roved the room, the ghosts that surrounded him always. Peter in the corner, Caro at the foot of the bed… the physical pain he felt inside the core of him that Doc Graham said was a body memory. Phantom pain that haunted him the way amputees suffer pain in cut-off limbs. He saw shadows of hallucinations that could come to life any moment… thought about the heroin in the dresser drawer that whispered his name… looked at naked Rico… and considered the raw hunger in his belly to fuck Téa roughly while she called for Rolon to come rescue her... glanced down at the tattoo that pronounced his forever-affiliation with the Mambo Kings… a simmering recall of murdering Horenda and Ivan… and god… god… so much MORE.

Asked himself again, did telling your secrets help?

"Fuck," he hissed.

More tears came to Rico and Todd clutched him a little tighter. There was nothing much to say, what could he say? No, telling didn't help. Nothing FUCKING HELPED. He kissed Rico's shoulder absently, feeling his body hum with emotion. Rico had told him how a man had strangled his younger brother. A pedophile who'd been abusing the two brothers. For kicks. A purchase of time from Manuel Caro. He had yet to tell more about the snuff films. Would telling the details… help?

Todd huffed, commanded Abram off the bed, and eyed Rico after he quieted. "How hurt are you? Have you pissed yet?"

Grunting softly as he moved to get up, Rico then opted to stay put. "I think maybe I got hit by a truck. And yes, I pissed this morning. Only a small amount of blood in it. I also fed your Abram... he did a lot of peeing and shitting. You were asleep. This dog would die if left alone with you."

"Good to know. Abram is obviously the healthiest one of us. If the red continues… you're bleeding inside and you'll need to go to a hospital."

Rico laughed a little, more like a snort.

"What?"

"You act like this is new to me."

Todd fought that noise that he'd make, that inhuman hateful sound… he wanted names. Wasn't sure Rico would give them up. He ran light fingertips along dark bruises on Rico's side, inky blue-black that slipped beneath to his back.

Rico closed his eyes, letting his lion check him over, feeling a gentle sweep of both his sides, his collarbone, his chest, belly, down his legs, tentative cautious caresses. Still hesitant about touching a male body. When he opened his eyes again he found himself looking at a dark expression as Todd approached a tender scrotum. Rico ever-so-slowly moved his knee, making himself more accessible. The frown deepened. Rico took Todd's hand, cupped his parts.

"You will not hurt me," he whispered.

The hard expression gentled. A visible swallow, his Adam's apple rising and falling. Eyes now on Rico's. Rasped... "It's just body parts is what you're going to say."

"Como un cadáver?" Rico murmured.

"No… just… parts. Disconnected from your brain."

"No, our bodies are much more. It is why we cry for the past, why we dream, feel. Our bodies are extensions of our hearts, our insides. Good and bad." He reached up and ran the backs of his folded fingers along Todd's jawline, the beard covering it. He spread fingers up into long stringy sleep-messed hair. Grabbed hold of it, getting Todd to look at him. His lion had long drawn his exploring hand into a fist. Retracting. "Did someone tell you we were only body parts?"

Todd nodded, an almost imperceptible nod, small acknowledgement… sad eyes gazing at Rico. "A lover of mine," he said. "A prostitute… she had similar experiences. She said that. I guess it was her way to not feel the abuse that never stopped." He added quietly, "My own abuse of her included."

Rico hmmd. "It's not true, león. She lied to you." He paused, fingertips on Todd's face, long moments passing, the two men not letting go of each other. The slightest tremble ran through Todd. Rico then said, sighed, "I scared you last night. You stopped, not because you were afraid to hurt me, but because you were afraid I would hurt you. You thought I was-"

Didn't let Rico finish his sentence. "Yes… I thought... I got scared. Visions started coming. But… I meant what I said. All of it was true… just not complete."

"You wanted to have sex. It turned black for you."

"I don't want to talk about it." Eyes down… and yet he still did not move away. Rico dropped his hand to the back of Todd's neck, pressing the tight muscles there.

"Don't talk then. Tócame." Rico didn't wait for Todd to make the movement. He took his hand again… and placed it on his stomach. Whispered again, in English, "Touch me."

"What are your brothers' names?"

"No. "

"They will keep coming after you."

Rico placed his fingers on Todd's lips. Repeated, "Tócame...no hables."

"I don't want you hurt…what we are..."

"You will not hurt me… I will not hurt you. Don't be afraid..."

Todd swallowed, saying nothing further. He jumped in. He went against everything he had told Rico, that every time they had sex, he felt like he hurt him. Reduced him to nothing but body parts. But… he wanted him. He didn't know why. He just did. And it came from somewhere deep and earthy and unknown. Fuck. He touched him. Touched his smooth flat belly, touched his chest, the nipples stiff from the cold air, the lines of his muscles… the blackening bruises. He traced up, the contours of his face, a face that could be on a GQ cover. But he wasn't, was he? He was in hell, too. Abused, torn up... getting off on strangled fucks and shitting on people... Except unlike Todd, nothing showed on the outside. At least… not in scars or tattoos. He frowned hard, thoughts showing, and Rico reached up to smooth the drawn expression.

"I will not hurt you, león," Rico whispered. "You will not hurt me."

"It all hurts, mari."

"Don't stop."

Todd drifted down Rico's belly, through the black shock of hair, and then palmed the soft flesh… eyes on the resting cock. He felt its satiny skin, the same color as the rest of him with reddish edges, a bluish vein running along its length… a heroin-perfect vein... such profound ordinariness, harmlessness. Just a penis.

He closed his eyes a moment… and then studied the man in his hands once more. Passive, patient. Slipped beneath the cock and held the scrotum, feeling its weight, the distinct and moveable testes cradled by slightly darker dimpled skin. The swelling from the night previous had lessened, gone away. Amazing, Todd thought bitterly, how the body just… goes back. Like nothing happened. Like he hadn't been kicked by monsters, like he hadn't held a dying friend in his arms.

How many times had his body… just gone back?

He glanced up at Rico's soft chiseled face… mocha features relaxed, expectant. Open… how could he be so open…so unafraid. He moved on top of Rico, straddled him. Sitting up. Then put hands on either side of him so he was staring down at him. Glaring down at him. Lifted his weight a little so as not to be too heavy on the man's injured body.

"Why are you not afraid of me? I am strong… much stronger than you. I'd go right through your fight, Rico. You got no chance against me. If I had been with you last night, your brothers would be dead. Right now… I could rape you. I could turn you over and rape you bloody… choke you while doing it. You would die. Why… are you not afraid?"

"Because I trust you."

"Trust is a stupid thing. I trusted Téa. I trusted so many people and every single one let me down. Téa trusted me… and here I am with you. In bed. She might be in bed too, with Rolon, that fucker. But thing is, I have let HER down at every turn in our relationship. I hit her once… a long time ago. I beat you. I tied you up for a fucking week. What is wrong with you… that you trust ME with your life, with your body? Haven't you been damaged enough?"

Rico didn't answer, turning away.

"You maybe have a death wish. That lover of mine, she did. She wanted me to kill her. Maybe that's what's behind the scarf... my hand on your throat when you come. You want me to kill you."

Swimming brown-black eyes glanced up at Todd. "I trust you. You will not let me die. You came after me the first time I left, you came last night. You keep coming after me." He took a breath, a needed remembered breath. "You stopped choking me at the right moment. You will not hurt me anymore." He tilted his head, shrugged. "Your wife shot you and yet, she remains alive. You have let go of revenge against her. And I know you have never raped her. Like you say."

"How do you know?"

"She would not be coming after YOU, if you had. You would not have survived her gun."

"I raped Gloria."

"You did not rape her. You were rough. You like sex a little rough with women."

"Sólo las partes del cuerpo."

"No… we are not body parts. We are our hearts." Rico ran his hands down Todd's arms, strong cut arms. He touched the scars beneath his elbows. He ran fingertips up his chest, across the ink. Wet eyes up. "Love is all over you. We are so much more than our body parts, Todd Manning..."

Rico's use of his name hit him square. He shut his eyes a moment, a needed moment of safety. "It's not always love, Rico Macias."

"Of course not," Rico breathed, "… sometimes… it is hate... indifference… power… vulnerability… shame... anger… passion... jealousy... sorrow… everything is there. On you. In you. Everything you do with your body is driven by what it is inside. I have seen it from the beginning. You are so clear to me. Like glass."

"I don't understand you… how you can be this way? All the things that happened to you… even today? You cried… you cried."

Empathy was all over Todd's face and Rico caressed the lines there, the love he did not want to feel but could not help. Such love for so many. His wife, his children… even that gang. The men in it. Rolon whom he said he hated yet didn't really act on. And yes, Rico supposed… yes. Love even for him. Todd loves Rico. He smiled sadly at that kernel of truth. A hard difficult truth. "I live for each moment. And right now… I am living for this moment. With you." Whispered. "Tócame, león, with your strong hands… with your fear… with your hate. With everything you are."

Todd wished for more understanding… he was silenced. Touch me with everything you are. What was wrong with Rico that he could not see him, the ugly, the darkness? Just like Téa. So unafraid. He dropped his gaze and ran a hand down Rico's chest...light eyes up… then down again. He slipped lower, sitting on Rico's thighs, again, lifting himself just enough...eyed that sleeping cock. He touched it again. And with every careful stroke, it stiffened more. Not so harmless anymore. The beginning of steel beneath the satin. There were reasons cocks were called swords. They ripped people apart. Leaving nothing behind. It didn't do anything to him… this way… to touch it. He fisted it and Rico sighed, stretching arms upwards… a sign of complete submission. They both did that. At various times.

Take me. Do whatever. Nothing but body parts…

Maybe Brandy was wrong. And wasn't that exactly why he checked out? Because he was nothing BUT his emotions, his feelings, his experiences. His body was exactly what was on the inside. He bent and spit onto the cock in his hand, a string of saliva now sliding over the slit, down the head. Rico shuddered, eyes on his lover. Using the wetness, Todd slid his hand up and down, around and around. Knowing what felt good. Familiar with what felt good.

Breathily Rico said, "Press tighter…" And Todd did. "Oh...así...oh así." A slight whimper came from him. And Todd watched as his cock thickened, lengthened to its fullest. Rico ever so slightly raised his hips, wanting to move, but he couldn't for the weight on him.

Todd said, "Don't. Let me do it."

He slid his hand up and down again, the slowness maddening. Rico moaned and saw Todd dip his head again to spit more and Rico said, "You might end me if you used your mouth...a little."

Todd eyed him intensely, his features unreadable. That… had implications. He knew the goodness of it but knew the other side.

"Do not think, león."

At that, Todd moved to lay alongside his lover, his heart suddenly racing, his breath tense. He glanced up with one last bit of concern before he placed his lips to the tip of Rico's perfect cock. Long strands of hair fell about his face, his warm lips grazing the silk. When he licked his lips, an intentional act, wetting them, he also tasted the weeping slit, and Rico gasped, reached for him, "Oh Blanco, oh dios…"

Todd looked at Rico, once more, feeling fingertips at his shoulder, then bent again to delicately lick the tip in a long stroke, then doing the same to a ridge he found beneath. He slowly slid his hand up and down and repeated the slow taste. Flashes of his history fluttered in his head but he shut them down. Tried to at least. For Rico. They wouldn't let him take the sword into his mouth entirely, couldn't do that, too much, too terrifying to be that vulnerable. But… the tease of his kisses, the heat of them, his stormy eyes on Rico through the locks of hair….

Rico craned his neck, groaning, "The picture of you doing that… Blanco, jesucristo, do not move, oh do not move. Dios, oh dios..."

Now, now… the room was getting hot… and Todd knew he was trembling ever so slightly… edges of fear getting at him but also a thrum of sexual desire. Real fucking want. Rico's cock jerked at the cusp of an orgasm. Todd watched him, the rapid breaths, the rise and fall of his chest, his tight muscles. His beautiful… face.

When Rico recovered, the come abated, and returned the light-eyed gaze of his lover, full of unsaid words, thoughts, fears, Rico's eyes were wet knowing what Todd had given him.

"Mí león…"

Todd didn't quit though… kept up the touching, the smoothing, the tentative yet seductive strokes of his tongue, the sliding of skin on the rigidness within. The sword at his total control. He slowed his movements and saw Rico grow pained at the cessation of movement. He started again, Rico getting lost in the sensations, forgetting his terrible night, his dreams. He was shaking, eyes closed now, his neck arched, chest heaving… a hand drawing the linens at his side, the other hand in Todd's hair as Todd rather expertly played a game of stop and go with his hand, his moistened lips, the wet of his partially open mouth.

Rico finally eyed him, an agony there, "You… are killing me."

Todd said nothing… he learned such things… in an ugly way. Sex was always so… complicated with him. But today, now, he tried not to think. Just a game. Just sex.

He continued to watch as he played, watch every muscle, watch his own hard hand, a large hand… strong... feeling how easily this could turn. Just body parts. Brandy loomed, how she'd disappear too this way. But then, he suddenly couldn't remember a single instant where he just pleasured her for the sake of pleasure alone, just to make HER feel good.

Shook him low and deep, how deeply lost in pain he'd been. Was he any different now? Téa got lost in him… but then she didn't. Maybe he never let her. Maybe every time they made love, he demanded she stay present because he was so fucking afraid to lose himself to his own madness. Maybe that's what she needed… permission to get lost in him, in the sex, in the pleasure of it.

He dipped his head, sliding his hand on Rico's hardness, spitting again, keeping things easy. And he was keenly aware, god...of the heat in his own flesh. The touching… such touching… the teasing… it had excited him, made him painfully hard. He let go. And the cock twitched on its own and Rico caught his breath at the agonizing stopped advancement. Total control over Rico's pleasure, safety...

Fuck.

Someone was knocking on the door… Rico didn't react. Todd forgot the noise as soon as it happened… because he was fully erect now, breathing faster now… he moved up and grabbed Rico by his arms, clamping onto Rico's parted lips and the two kissed hungrily, tongues inside… in and out, touching teeth, Todd sensing Rico's opening of his mouth wide, wider… hands on his face, in his hair, on his neck. A hand now exploring Todd's shoulders, arms, sides, his back... his own hand on Rico's face, in his hair…

Hands slipped low, lower… a warm hand slipped inside his briefs, pushing them down. Rico grasped his ass, his cheeks… squeezing, kneading… Todd was excruciatingly turned on now, on fire, actually, purely so, his dick straining against the stretchy fabric of black briefs. He reached down and with his thumb, jerkily pulled at the briefs. Getting them off. Flexed muscles as he did it, getting Rico to curse in Spanish…

"Coño… you are so beautiful..."

When he set himself flush on Rico, cock to cock, legs apart, straddling, he gasped with such relief, such heat, hissing, "Oh my fucking God…," groaning with the plainest of desire. He slowly rubbed his aching hardness on Rico's own, barely controlled jabs… the two moving against each other again and again.

And then, then... he felt Rico's hand on his crack… fingers searching and Todd's trembling upped a notch… and he shifted to avoid the effort to get more of his body parts, sensitive parts, damaged parts, scarred parts…

"I will not hurt you, amor…," Rico said softly. "Te lo prometo."

Amor.

Todd groaned into Rico's mouth, rocking his hips, wetness now seeping from both of them, making things slicker, hotter... and he could have stopped things, could have said no, he could have punched the hell out of Rico for daring to do it… but he was too hot, too needy, wanting too much to not say no. To not interrupt escape. For either of them. He felt gentle fingers deeper in the cleft and Todd popped his head up, panting… holding his breath… eyes fast on Rico's… eyes too wide… too scared… the ghosts groaning in the background, the waves of memory shivering like a picture about to move…

"Rico…"

"I will not hurt you… it will not hurt…I promise you, león… Blanco… Todd, Todd Manning… Todd..."

Todd shook his head and then didn't, dropping into the crook of Rico's neck, his hips still moving, their cocks sliding against the other, slipping off, then on… the sensation sending all rational thought through and out the top of his head so that when Rico slipped his finger deep inside of Todd's ass, he could only groan… growl... and… and…

"It's me, león… it's just me…feel it, feel me…you are on top… you are in control… I am not pushing, you are." Whispered in Spanish, "I am giving your body back to you."

The slide in and then out was slow and careful and every time Todd rocked back, the deft painter's finger would slide inside… and somewhere he knew it was a common act and there were reasons many men liked when a lover did something like this… and… and… if he didn't want it, he could stop moving, but he didn't because it felt good, really fucking good… a sharp sexual primal good...

And he moaned obscenely, saying, "Oh fuck... fuck..."

...and he was understanding that it was nothing like the violence he remembered. He was in a lover's arms, warmly, securely, and it was a man, specifically a man, and he knew it HAD to be a man to do this because it had been a man that had stolen this from him, and so if Téa had been doing it, it wouldn't have the same gravity, the same threat to him… she had no sword... and no matter that he could tear right through Rico… no, no, no, he wouldn't… and this man said his body was all about what was on the inside… and, and, and…

... there was no pain, there was no hurt… no humiliation… it was loving and meant to incite nothing but pleasure. There'd be no scarring, no searing in his belly, no choking arms around his throat, no horrified forever-wrecked eyes from a girlfriend in the wrong place at the wrong time… and he looked at his mari's dark haunted eyes, lips and breaths on each other, and they were safe here, in Sylvia's house, in a soft bed that smelled sweet… and he was as safe as he could be with the kindest man he had ever met other than Doctor Graham who never hurt him, never not once, and Rico was smiling just a little, eyes bright and turned on… a lifting of his lip…

"Let me see you come…," Rico said. "Mí leon, mí Blanco..."

Todd grunted softly and moved more and the feeling was more intense than the last time he made love to Rico and he moved harder, Rico holding him with his body, his finger sliding inside of him… as deep as he could go, another one added… someone inside of him… and how funny that was because men are always on the inside of women and he never realized how powerful that is, how giving that is… how horrifyingly intimate to allow someone inside… to let them... like reaching into a chest and massaging a heart...

And that's what it felt like, like being brought back to life. He could have wept, could have shouted, but he didn't.

He had his body… back.

He buried his head and reached in between them and held their cocks, held them tight, rocking… swaying… humping, pumping… and soon he was holding himself up and jerking the both of them with Rico still inside. He spread his legs further apart and rocked more and pumped their cocks more and soon he was blind and deaf and high in the whiteness of coming, the orgasm mad and ripping. They were both coming and it was mind-numbing, wet, dizzying, and he was moaning wordless noise… like the inside of him was pouring out in hot honey and syrup and he kissed Rico to quiet him because he was moaning too…and he felt all their slickness and he stroked and squeezed their soft and hard parts until there was nothing left of them…

...and he finally stopped moving and lay heavily on Rico, the two breathing hard… semen between them, mixing with sweat… god such wet, wet, amazing human wetness… salty like the ocean, bitter like their lives and loves and sorrows and horrors… and…

...fuck… fuck… fuck....

"Jesus fucking Christ...," he breathed, huffed, whispered because there was nothing left. He kissed-bit Rico's chest, licked a smattering of come and carried it right to Rico's mouth, kissing his mouth hard. "Fuck..." Kiss. "Fuck..." Kiss. And Rico smiled through the mad affection he didn't think Todd had ever expressed before, not ever …

"Are you saying, it was not so bad? Not so frightening?"

Todd closed his eyes and just shook his head because he had no words, too much to say in them, Spanish and English all inadequate. And maybe if he was a weaker man, he'd cry now with a kind of relief maybe, but he was too spent to do that. He just lay in Rico's arms, letting Rico be the stronger one… letting him be the one to hold them both up even though he was broken and bruised and maybe half-full of hate. Todd kissed the warm skin of Rico's neck, suckled at the saltiness that had come up on it since the nightmare. He rolled over and easily pulled his lover with him who lay all over him like a Dali painting.

Todd on his back now, he panted, eyed the windows, the light shining wildly bright. No pain, no pain… nothing but pleasure in his body… the ghosts lurked still… but there was something different in them. A thinness, maybe. He sniffled… and held Rico to him, whispered roughly because he was still himself, deep inside, deeply himself…

"What are your brothers' names?"

Rico sighed, his breath hot in Todd's ear… gently biting an earlobe and then he said, "Antonio and Rafa Macias."

"Gracias, mí mari... gracias." Thank you for more than names. Kissed him again, kissed him breathless. Rolling over him again. Lost in the sensations and scents and possibility...

They lay a long while in the early afternoon light, touching and kissing and approaching real heat, stopping just before because Rico said, "I need to piss…" He climbed out of the bed, aching, sore… the escape only good for those few hours. He smiled at his lover who was reaching for him, reaching because he did not want him to leave the bed, and then he didn't smile anymore. Eyes serious.

"You are okay, Blanco?"

"Yeah… good... don't worry." He paused... "You did not hurt me, as you promised. Just… as you promised."

"Good, Todd Manning. Y mira, I am alive, right now. You did not kill me. As I knew you would not." His eyes warmed… and he was so very unafraid. "Everything else does not matter. I have today in my heart… for always."

He walked slowly, walked naked. A little hunched from the pain of the beating, longish black hair hanging, but he had a small private smile on his face and Todd was glad for it. He walked out the door, Abram getting up and shaking off the morning. And wouldn't ya' know it, the traitor followed Rico.

Todd stretched on the bed like a cat, ran hands down his body, a rush of thought passing through him… thick heavy currents of thought. Then he rested there, spread out like an eagle. Smelling sex and cigarettes and the sweetness of the sheets and the sea air of Havana, Cuba.

And of course, with every second away from love, hate crept in... his wish for Téa crept in. The confusion crawled over him, black bugs of confusion. He groaned loudly into the pillow, finally grabbing it and chucking it across the room. He breathed. Focused on the remaining feel of Rico… of everything… of being alive. The high of it. The exhaustion of it. Glanced at his resting cock in that ever-present mess of brown hair.

"You're a sick fucker, you know."

That's when he heard a knock on the door.

Oh yeah, he thought… he had heard that earlier. Muttered a "yeah," and got up, grabbed jeans off the floor. Shoved them on indelicately. He sat a moment. The sneaky hate made Todd sick to his stomach. He held his head in his hands, trying to quell the surge… it tasted bad in his mouth, made him want to hit things… and he could feel the swell of memories wash up on his legs. Caro's spirit, Peter's… they reached upwards from the ground. Hands reaching up from cemetery plots, like from a million horror flicks. He breathed, kept breathing. They were thin. They were transparent. He breathed in Rico's scent and felt the body memory not of rape but of love. No pain, no scarring…

He soon heard the door open, smelled sweet bread… and knew Raquel's hand lay on his shoulder.

"What happened to Rico?"

"His brothers is what happened. Did you check on him?"

"No, I was coming up the stairs as he was walking to the bathroom. I saw bruises. I could hear him urinating and making a sound like he was in pain."

Todd glanced up at her and she lifted her chin. Crossed her arms. Mouth dropped into a cold frown. One thing she did not do was take a step back. She was willing to deal with him this close up. He could only imagine the expression on his face because he was thinking, brothers… brothers that are going to pay. The hate rolling across his features was beyond his control.

From her dug-in position, she said, "Tranquilo, Blanco, me oyes?"

"Tranquilo? Fuck that. I will make arrangements for a lesson to be learned."

"Are there not enough bodies on your conscience?"

"I do what I have to do. They nearly killed Rico… they killed a friend of his. Stabbed him to death."

"Perhaps more fucking will ease your desires for death?"

He eyed her, giving her a very short leash. She chuckled and sat heavily next to him on the bed. "Forgive this old lady. We tend to say what is on our minds. I tried to come earlier, but you were busy. I was happy for it. It is better than death. Fucking is always better than death."

"Woman… Why are you here?"

"I was concerned about the two of you. The heroin."

"Totally sober."

"Hm," she nodded, taking him in, obviously evaluating his veracity. Then... "His brothers killed another prostitute, you say?"

"No, a man, a man who never had the money to be a customer. Sounded more like a friend."

Raquel cursed under her breath, then said in a low tone, "I will check him for wounds."

Todd nodded to her, "Gracias. Por todo."

"I will take care of his body," she said in clear English. "But I am afraid for him."

"Of what?"

She sighed and looked hard at him. All her years of knowledge there in that accusing expression. "I am afraid for his heart when it comes to you. He has never had a man…. tend to him the way you do."

Hard words to hear. That elusive future again. The mystery as to what they were again. Todd walked to the windows, studying the street. People walked below. People… people… he stood, back to Raquel. "I will take care of him as well as I can. I am trying to protect his… heart." He cleared his throat, pulled back his loosed wild hair. He figured he looked like.. indeed, like he'd been doing a lot of fucking.

She got up and studied him. Such form he had, such a sight in the window. So dangerous and so very broken. How the two men, those very two men, found each other was the definition of life's mysteries and complications. She smiled, a soft tender one. "Be careful, dear man, with him, with yourself. You have a wife I know you love. And she loves you. I saw it with my own eyes. Powerful love. Here in this very room. And Rico… he is a gentle, young, precious flower. Do not let his strength, his surviving, fool you. I do not want to see him trampled in the current between you and your wife."

"He, Raquel, is trampling me. And don't get me started on the trampling Téa has done."

She gave him a parting warning glance, a hand waving, telling him Sylvia was preparing dinner so no loud fucking please as she opened the door. She left, the door closing behind her. Todd heard that noise again, coming from his throat… a growl… something inhuman. He shook with hate, with confusion… with the lowest, dirtiest, gut-wrenching desire for Téa, for his old life before she learned of everything. For more fucking, as Raquel said. Yeah, yeah, that was good. Coming is always better than going. He breathed again. Trying to calm himself.

He yanked open a dresser drawer. Empty but for the one thing. He stared a long time at the heroin and all the shit to make it work right. Fuck. He thought he was out of dope. He was wrong. He dropped down, squatted, hands on the drawer. He remembered the feel of it. Slammed shut the drawer so hard he fell back. Lay there on the floor like a beached whale. His cigarettes had fallen off the dresser. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Took a cigarette out and lit up. Breathed in the tobacco. Knees up, swaying a little.

Calm… calm… be like a breeze sailing across a tropical sea...

He could see the door from where he lay. And it opened. He expected Rico. And he snorted a kind of a laugh… and cussed… "Jesus fucking CHRIST. Is this Grand Central Station? I bought privacy and a LOCKED front DOOR." The dark humor ended. He eyed the tall Latino man in the doorway wearing dark khaki pants, worn leather shoes, and a silky Hawaiian button-down shirt under a cotton jacket… no, couldn't be. Was that a Members Only? Yeah. All heft, all American… all very pissed-off...

... law-enforcement.

Benicio Juarez of the FBI stood hard and fast in the doorway. He had a bag across his shoulder. He dug into it and pulled out pill bottles. He fired them across the room, one at a time, both hitting Todd sharply who threw his arms up in mock protection. They bounced off him. Still on his back, on the floor, he held the cigarette with his lips and tongue. Reached for the containers. Looked at one for his seizures. Looked at the other for his moods. And another one to help with psychosis, to help prevent catatonic episodes. Someone had spoken to his beloved Doctor Graham and his neurologist. He bet he knew who did just that.

"Take them, you psychotic epileptic gang-banging bastard."

"I had no idea you gave two shits about me."

"I don't care whether you live or die. But you have a fucking job to do. You have to make a deal with Pedro Moreno. You have to turn over a hundred pedophiles to the Cuban and American and Canadian governments. You have to turn over all that evidence in your hands. So stop fucking whores and pumping the heroin. Get off the fucking floor. Get to WORK."

"I was told you were going to shoot me if you saw me."

"Fuck you, Manning. You have three governments and a few others going crazy to shut this shit down. Who'd have thought you could cause such CHAOS. Raúl Castro himself said… get that fucker off the dope."

Rico stood right behind the cop and cleared his throat and Juarez turned, taking a step back. Todd couldn't help but chuckle… Rico was fucking hot even with bruising … and held a towel covering his dick… and he was wet from the shower… and he knew men… straight ones and gay ones and everything in between. And he pegged Juarez as straight and uptight and definitely not in the know.

"I am the only whore he is fucking right now. Are there others?"

Juarez whipped around to Todd… nobody told him. Or if they had, he hadn't absorbed it. The shock on his face was priceless and Todd laughed, laughed good and hard, laughed like he hadn't laughed in a hundred years. He rolled over and slowly stood up, a force to be reckoned with. All sinewy deadly muscle and heat and a face that had seen too many deaths in front of him. The cigarette dangled between his lips. Abram sauntered past the officer, big head turning and watching him. Only when shit gets real does Abram remember his job. Fucker. He planted all sixty pounds of himself smack in front of Todd.

Juarez eyed the loud-and-proud MK tattoos… and lights went on, puzzle pieces slamming together, and he hissed, "Jesus CHRIST. It's been you. You are the one executing old-time MK members so YOU can be the king. I oughta shoot you."

"I don't need to execute anybody. Shit just happens. But I am the king... as you so affectionately say."

Rico lay across the bed on his belly, lying on the towel, ass revealed. He moved his knee up to his side, balls exposed…was up on his elbows, flipping through the pages of his sketchbook. Someone needed to sketch that.

"What's the matter, Juarez… never seen a naked man before? Yeah… my eyes are up here. Not on his ass."

"Take the meds, Manning. And be at the Arms Hotel in an hour. And leave the goddamn pinguero behind."

"No… he's a key witness, you FUCK. He's coming with me. He has a story to tell and you'll wanna hear it."

Rico glanced a moment at Todd, his face showing a bit of the vulnerability. Turned back. Only Todd had seen it. It was time… Rico had to tell about the snuff films.

"Fine. Just take the fucking MEDS." The cop left the room, cursing under his breath as he did so, after eying Rico one last time and flashing one last look of disbelief. The door swung closed.

Rico sat up. Looked afraid. "You want me to testify?"

"I want you to tell your secrets, mari. I will protect you with my life. Nobody will know you are the witness. And it is not for us, but for those dead kids. It won't help shit inside, but it will help them."

A quiet nod and clouds rolled, the room darkening, graying. The ghosts so very alive.

To be continued…..