Chapter Twenty Seven
"Hey. Hi. Steven. I shouldn't have called. I just… it's hard, ye know? Not seeing ye, not hearing yer voice everyday. That's selfish, I get that. But sometimes… I don't know, I wanna see ye, I do. I miss ye." Brendan hung up the phone and paused to take a few breaths before he called back and deleted his message. He'd done the same several times already and it wasn't getting any easier. One day he was sure Steven would answer and know it was him. Truth be told, he liked to hear his answer phone message. He remembered the day he recorded it; Brendan with his arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him to try and distract him. Steven's voice had risen a pitch with every squeeze and it still made Brendan smile to hear it, even in these circumstances.
"Alright, Brady?"
Brendan sighed. Warren Fox: a constant irritant.
"What?" Brendan grunted, abandoning the prison phone and walking down the corridor.
"Calling your little boyfriend again?" Warren laughed, following him. Stalking Brendan was becoming a hobby of his.
"None of yer business." Brendan retorted, going back to his cell. He stayed there as much as possible these days in a bid to avoid conflict. It was almost worse, trying to do right. It made the other prisoners goad him at every opportunity. No one liked an early release; most of them viewed it as cheating, unless it was them getting out early of course.
"I have no business, you made sure of that." Warren pointed out, leaning against the open door of his cell.
"Neither of us do now. It's been taken over again, so I've been told."
"Oh yeah?" Warren's interest was piqued. "Who by?"
"No one I know. Can barely remember the name." Brendan laid out on his prison bunk. His cellmate was off somewhere, probably in the yard.
"When you get out of here, you need to get it back."
Brendan laughed, turning his head to glance at Warren. "Ye reckon?"
Warren frowned. "It's our club."
"No, it was our club." Brendan told him. "It's someone else's problem now."
"And is Ste someone else's problem as well? Are you even keeping tabs on him?"
"What the fuck are ye on about?" Brendan asked angrily.
Warren stared at him incredulously. "Are you telling me you have no idea what he's been up to? If he's found someone else? You're out in what, a year? Less?"
"What's yer point?" Brendan asked blankly.
"Don't you want him back when you get out of here?" Warren exclaimed, as though it were obvious.
"Aw, Foxy. Didn't know ye cared." Brendan rolled onto his side, away from him. He didn't like Warren to see his face when they spoke about Steven; a regular occurrence with Warren around.
"Someone's gotta make it." Warren sighed insincerely.
"Well, don't hold yer breath." Brendan murmured.
"Seriously? What if some other bloke has swooped in? You're just gonna let that lie?"
"It's Steven's choice." Brendan said flatly. Even saying his name aloud made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He tried to avoid saying it as much as possible but now his release date was looming ever closer, it was growing more difficult to keep the younger man from his thoughts.
"Rubbish." Warren scoffed. "If it were me-"
"It isn't ye." Brendan interrupted darkly. "So shut up."
"Alright, princess. Calm down." Warren chortled. "I can see where my advice is wasted."
Brendan said nothing, waiting for Warren to get the message.
Eventually he heard Warren's fading footsteps, music to his ears. His hands clutched something involuntarily under his pillow. A photo. Brendan wiped hastily at his eyes; he hardly realised when he cried anymore, it was like a reflex these days.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the top of the other bunk. Warren was right in some respects; Brendan did want to know if Steven was with someone else. He knew he couldn't do anything about it, nor did he have any right to demand anything from Steven but even so…
"Fuck sake." He cursed under his breath, launching himself off of the bunk and going back to the prison phone to record yet another deleted message.
Xxx
Ste rolled onto his side, relieved to be back in his own bed again. Brendan was sleeping shirtless beside him, chest rising and falling steadily in his sleep. Ste touched him lightly on the arm, checking if he was indeed asleep. When he didn't stir, he gingerly sat up in bed and reached for his glass of water on the bedside table.
He sipped slowly, not wanting to overload himself with liquid. He'd gotten over the nausea stage fairly quickly but his lack of food the last few days had taken its toll. He was sure he'd lost even more weight if that were possible. It was making him self-conscious; especially whenever his dad frowned at the baggy-ness of his clothes.
"Mm?" Brendan blinked open his eyes groggily, registering Ste almost immediately. "Ye okay?"
"Not bad." Ste told him, easing himself back into bed. "You?"
Brendan turned his head to look at him. "I'm not the ill one."
Ste chuffed a laugh, moving closer to rest his head comfortably on Brendan's bare chest. "I'm surprised you haven't caught anything to be honest."
"Shared enough fluids." Brendan agreed, brushing his foot against Ste's ankle.
"Are you trying to be filthy?"
"Never." Brendan said firmly, lips twitching in amusement. "Seriously though, ye feel better?"
"Much." Ste sighed, closing his eyes contently. "You going back to work today?"
"Think so." Brendan paused. "Don't really like the idea of leaving ye though."
"I'll be okay. I'll stick the telly on, have a duvet day."
Brendan groaned. "I suddenly wish I was sick too."
Ste smiled, snuggling closer. "When you get home we can have all the duvet fun you want."
"Now that's a pleasant thought to get me through the day." Brendan murmured.
"You don't sound happy about going back to work." Ste noted, wondering if it was for a different reason than simply wanting to stay with him.
Brendan grunted. "I thought that club was well and truly behind me." He said truthfully.
Ste looked up at him in surprise. "I thought you loved that place."
"Did, once." Brendan replied. "Foxy told me I should try and get it back when I got out of prison."
"You saw Warren inside?" Ste frowned. "What was he like?"
"Same old, same old." Brendan sighed. "But a familiar face made the time pass I suppose."
"I haven't asked much about what it was like." Ste said apologetically. Brendan waved his hand dismissively.
"It isn't important now. I'd rather forget it."
"Course." Ste said softly. "Anyway, you don't have to work there if you don't want to, dad would understand."
"I'll bet." Brendan muttered.
"Hey, come on. It's not been that bad working with him, has it?"
Brendan shrugged. "Last time I was there I met some clients of his."
"And?" Ste sat up a little straighter. In his ill haze he'd completely forgotten about his curiosity regarding Sam's clients.
Brendan looked at him then, frowning a little. "Has yer dad ever given ye the impression he's involved with… well, people like me?"
"People like you?" Ste repeated, confused. "Were they gay?" He asked suddenly, dread pounding through him for reasons he couldn't fathom.
"Steven." Brendan said severely.
"Oh, no, right, course not." Ste blushed. "You mean drug dealing or something?"
"Yeah." Brendan looked at him carefully.
"Not that I know of." Ste said slowly. "I mean, he's always seemed pretty against all that. I had a lot of explaining to do about my time inside."
"Hm." Brendan considered his words. "Ye talked a lot about that, did ye?"
"I told him some stuff, yeah."
"Did ye tell him about me?"
"You know I didn't."
"Right, yeah."
"What's this about?" Ste asked suddenly, growing uneasy. "Is there something I should know?"
"No." Brendan said, a little too quickly. "Don't worry about it."
Ste was about to voice how he should be worrying about it when there was a knock at their bedroom door.
"How you feeling, son?" Sam asked through the door. Ste felt Brendan tense beside him.
"Better thanks. We'll be out in a minute."
Brendan closed his eyes resignedly. "Here we go." He whispered.
"This conversation isn't over by the way." Ste told him, reaching across to grab Brendan's shirt from the floor. Brendan supported his waist as he did so, gently.
"Ye don't feel hot anymore."
Ste righted himself, feeling a little flushed from leaning over too far. "Good. Hopefully I can join you back at work soon then."
"Take it easy though, yeah?" Brendan said uneasily.
"Don't I always?" Ste countered. Brendan clenched his jaw, muscle twitching. "Alright, point taken. Mini-buses and fires aside, I take good care of myself." Brendan's mouth pressed into a firm line. "Okay! So I'm not great at it, but I promise I'll take it easy, okay?" Brendan relaxed ever so slightly.
"It's all I ask."
"Well, that's not true." Ste smirked. Brendan leaned forwards to kiss him softly on the mouth as if to prove Ste's point. Ste felt himself responding instantly, pressing his body against Brendan's. "You have to go." He murmured in between kisses.
"Do I have to?" Brendan sighed, moving his mouth down the length of Ste's neck.
"Yes." Ste whimpered, hands clutching the covers. "Dad's right outside."
Brendan groaned, withdrawing from Ste's space. "Okay. Later though, yeah?"
"Yes." Ste nodded, resisting the urge to instigate a parting kiss.
Brendan insisted that Ste remain in bed while he got ready for work. He left the door open when he went to the bathroom and Sam entered the room in his absence, perching on the edge of the bed.
"Sure you're feeling alright? I can stay with you if you need me to."
Ste smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Dad."
Sam returned the smile, albeit sadly. "I missed out on being a dad to you when you're sick. This has been kinda nice in a way, looking after you. Not that I want you to be ill." He grinned apologetically.
"I know what you mean." Ste reassured him. "I appreciate it too, both of you." He glanced up when Brendan re-entered the room.
"We should let you rest." Sam said tightly, standing up and sparing a look at Brendan.
"I'll meet ye there." Brendan said, not looking at Sam. Sam nodded briefly before leaving the room.
"Be nice." Ste said warningly.
"I'm always nice, Steven." Brendan grinned, grabbing his phone and keys. "Call if ye need anything. I'll send Anne round later."
"I'll be fine, Bren." Ste sighed, shaking himself at the sense of déjà vu enveloping him.
"Alright." Brendan gave him a hard look. "Make sure ye eat something."
"Yes, alright." Ste rolled his eyes. "Go on, get lost."
Brendan smiled bashfully making Ste's toes curl in delight at the sight of it. He brushed his hand through Ste's hair, mussing it the way he liked it. Ste watched him leave the room with regret he tried to disguise. Once he was alone he swung his legs out of bed, tottering carefully towards the living room.
He spent most of the morning watching television, eventually going back to the bedroom to locate a shirt to wear. He chose one of Brendan's, unwashed, and enjoyed the smell of him around him. Amy called at around midday asking if he was well enough for the kids to visit in two days time. Ste told her he wouldn't miss it for the world.
"Remember what we agreed, Ste. Brendan can see the kids as long as Sam is around."
Ste gritted his teeth, biting back what he really wanted to say. "Fine. Whatever."
Amy had been quite taken with Sam when she'd first met him. She'd deemed him a good influence on Ste and was thrilled at the prospect of him having a decent parental figure. Ste understood her concern; she'd been the one to witness Terry's violent outbursts and Pauline's incessant drinking.
Ste was pleased they got on so well but he daren't tell Brendan Amy's conditions. He could imagine his expression now; the anger he would feel underneath the hurt. Ste still hoped that one day the two of them could come to an understanding but he wasn't entirely hopeful.
When Mitzeee visited him later that day with Phoenix, Ste off-loaded some of his anxiety about Amy's visit.
"I'm scared she's going to kick off."
"But she knows you're together?" Mitzeee asked, cutting up Phoenix's apple for him at the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, doesn't mean she won't kick off about it though."
"Brendan told me the last time she was here she took the kids away from both of you." Mitzeee said sadly. "Are you scared she'll try that again?"
"I dunno, time's a great healer and all that." Ste said, not feeling confident.
"Does she know what Brendan went to prison for?"
"Yes." Ste said tightly. "I could hardly tell her the truth though, could I?"
"No." Mitzeee pursed her lips together. "How's Brendan going to take it though? All that judgement, Sam being the big cheese, so to speak."
"I don't know." Ste said heavily, leaning against the oven. "What do you think I should do?"
Mitzeee smiled apologetically. "Hard to say, love. I guess you'll just have to keep them out of each other's way as much as possible."
"Yeah." Ste said sadly, glancing over at Phoenix who was rolling around on the sofa.
"When are they coming?" Phoenix asked happily.
"Day after tomorrow." Ste told him, taking the plate of apple slices from Mitzeee and handing them to Phoenix. "You excited?"
"Yeah!" Phoenix said, popping a whole slice into his mouth. "Will Brendan see them too?"
"Course." Ste sat beside him, allowing Phoenix to feed him some apple.
"You look small." Phoenix frowned at him, giving him another slice.
"He's got a point you know." Mitzeee said knowledgeably. "How much weight have you lost?"
Ste shrugged self-consciously. "Don't you start."
"I'll make you some lunch." Mitzeee told him. "Don't want Amy thinking you're being neglected."
"I'm not a kid." Ste said petulantly.
"I know that." Mitzeee said, fishing out some eggs from the fridge. "We just worry about you."
"There's no need." Ste sighed, allowing Phoenix to rest his legs on his lap.
"What does Brendan eat?" Phoenix asked, blinking up curiously at Ste.
"Anything." Ste said, with an exaggerated whisper.
Phoenix's eyes widened. "Anything?" He repeated, awe-struck.
"Yep, you name it, he'll eat it." Ste grinned.
"What about you? Does he eat you?" Phoenix asked, entirely innocent. Ste's eyes widened, glancing over at Mitzeee who had to stuff her fist in her mouth to prevent herself from giggling.
"No, not really anything. Just food, not people."
"That would be icky." Phoenix said, wrinkling his nose and attempting to nibble his arm.
"What's this nursery you're sending him to?!" Ste asked as Mitzeee returned to the sofa with eggs on toast for Ste.
Mitzeee laughed, ruffling Phoenix's hair. "He's just curious, that's all. He takes things very literally."
"I can see that." Ste said amusedly, cutting his toast into smaller, manageable bites.
"So they've both gone to work then?" Mitzeee asked conversationally.
"Yep."
"How long until they kill each other?"
"Oh, don't." Ste groaned. "Try living with both of them."
"That bad?"
"Put it this way: everything is a power trip. Who gets to use the bathroom first, who makes me breakfast, who's taking care of me the best. On their own it's fine, but together…" Ste trailed off, shaking his head.
"If it ever gets too crazy, you know where we are." Mitzeee gestured to herself and Phoenix.
"Thanks, I might just do that."
"It's only because they care." Mitzeee said softly.
"Too much, sometimes." Ste said plainly. "Anyway, where are you two off to today?"
"The park. Wanna come?"
"Please." Ste put his half finished lunch on the table.
"When you've finished that you can." Mitzeee said sternly.
Ste looked at her blankly. "You aren't serious?"
"She is." Phoenix warned him. Mitzeee crossed her arms defiantly.
"Oh, alright." Ste rolled his eyes, picking the plate up again. "Then some fresh air will do us all good."
"And if not, we have two knight's in shining armour for you." Mitzeee teased.
"Cheers for that." Ste replied, swallowing another bite.
Xxx
"Brendan, do you mind doing a stock take for me?" Samuel handed him the appropriate paperwork.
"Sure." Brendan took it from him. "Could do it in my sleep."
"Yes, I looked over your books." Samuel raised his eyebrows.
"What?" Brendan was immediately on the defensive.
"Were you quite distracted working here?" Samuel asked calmly.
"I didn't always do the books; Joel and Cheryl did it sometimes."
"I see." Samuel replied.
"What are ye trying to say?"
"Oh, nothing. They're just a little all over the place, that's all."
"Different management." Brendan said tightly.
"Of course, what else could it be?" Samuel smiled, walking away from him.
"I suppose yer son was pretty distracting." It was a low blow but Brendan was past caring. Samuel paused, turning back.
"Is that right?"
Brendan stepped into his personal space, lowering his voice. "Most definitely." He'd missed this feeling, of power and control. Samuel didn't waver, didn't blink.
"And now?"
"Even more so." Brendan said quietly. "Especially back in that uniform."
"I personally found the uniform tacky but Steven insisted."
"My sister chose the uniform."
"From what I've seen, that sounds about right."
Brendan nearly lost it then but he knew what Samuel was trying to do. "Ye just want me to hit ye so ye can run home and tell Steven."
Samuel smiled. "Is that what you think? The fact it would even cross your mind…"
"I'm not that person anymore."
"Really? So my Steven hasn't still got faded bruises on his skin? No?"
Brendan blinked, caught off guard. "What are ye talking about?"
"I'm not stupid, Brendan." Samuel said, angry now. "I know what you're doing and I won't accept it."
"Ye don't know anything." Brendan said slowly.
"I know I need you out of my son's life." Samuel said, controlling his emotions once more.
"I had a feeling this was coming." Brendan replied grimly.
"Let's just see who Steven turns to when it all goes sour. The man who beat him black and blue or his doting father."
"The doting father who abandoned him." Brendan hissed. "Ye don't have a fucking clue what Steven needs."
"He is my blood, that's all that matters."
"Believe me, blood is nothing when it comes to men like you." Brendan said with absolute conviction.
"Men like me? You mean a father? What kind of father did you have, Brendan?"
Brendan froze. "Excuse me?"
"Well, you killed your dad, didn't you? You have no right to lecture me on parenting. What did your dad do, huh? Look at you funny? Is that what Steven did? Are you gonna kill him too someday?"
"Shut your mouth." Brendan emphasised each word. He could feel the familiar feeling of control leaving him. His palms began to sweat, his skin flushed with heat and adrenaline. He kept trying to picture Steven in his mind but everything was becoming distorted.
"Have I touched a nerve, Brendan?" Samuel sneered.
"Ye need to get out of my face right now." Brendan warned him. He could feel himself beginning to shake.
"Or what? You don't scare me, Brendan Brady. Mark my words: Steven will see you for what you really are someday. It's a dark path for men like you. Perhaps you'll even join that father of yours, huh?"
The red mist descended. Brendan felt as though he'd been lifted out of his body. He launched forwards, knocking Samuel to the floor, fist raised. He wanted to feel his hand connect with flesh, draw blood. He was still shaking as he pulled his fist behind him, Samuel's goading face staring up at him triumphantly.
And suddenly a sense of recognition hit him. He could see Steven's features in Samuel's face. Samuel wasn't afraid but Brendan remembered a time when Steven had been. He remembered the way Steven had cowered the last time he had hit him, the way the blood dried on his face, the fear and disappointment shining through. Brendan suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He lowered his fist.
"Brendan?"
Brendan looked up sharply. Steven was at the top of the stairs, staring at him in horror.
"It's not how it looks." Brendan said quickly, getting up off the floor and away from Samuel.
Mitzeee came up the stairs then, Phoenix in her arms. She took one look at Brendan's poise and Samuel on the floor and closed her eyes.
"I didn't touch him." Brendan said. "Ye have to believe me." He looked at Steven imploringly, willing him to trust him. Steven looked more shocked than anything.
"It's okay, son." Samuel said, standing up slowly. "I'm okay."
Brendan daren't look at him. He wasn't sure he could control himself twice.
"Listen to me." Brendan took a step forwards. Steven visibly flinched. The battle was already lost then, for Brendan. Without another glance, he was straight out the balcony door, his knuckles unclenched by his sides.