Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (96 page)

me down harder. It works. He kisses me mercilessly and just when I

think I can’t take anymore, he flips me over without as much as a

warning. I scramble to get on all fours. I hear the lube being opened

and I wonder where he got it from so quickly, but then his fingers

enter me and my thinking goes out the window. I’m so turned on now

and I don’t want him to stop.

“Fuck, that’s good,” I murmur. “Don’t stop,” I say a little louder

in case he didn’t hear me. Behind me I hear a condom packet being

ripped open and I brace for what’s coming. Nick doesn’t disappoint. I

gasp as he enters me in one strong thrust and I welcome the burn. I

don’t need to reach between my legs to know I’m rock hard and

getting even harder as he starts rocking back and forth. Suddenly he

stops.

“It’s good, Nicky. I can take it,” I say, wondering what’s going

on. He doesn’t move, so I reach back and touch his heated skin.

“Turn around,” he croaks, but I’m not sure I heard him right, so I

don’t move. “Turn over,” he says a little louder. “I want to see your

face when I’m… when we’re….” He doesn’t finish his sentence and I

drop down to the bed and turn to look at him. For a moment the

insecurity in Nick’s face is back, but then I raise my arms above my

head and he smiles. He grabs my wrists and kisses me. I spread my

legs and pull my knees up and he lets go of one wrist to guide himself

into me again. The lovemaking is slow but neither of us feels the need

to speed up our movements.

I don’t know how long we kiss and cuddle and rock back and

forth, but I don’t care because I don’t want it to stop. I want to stay

like this forever. In Nick’s arms. I realize I love this man like I never

thought I could love anyone.

When Nick finally starts thrusting faster, I come quietly between

our bodies. Nick follows closely and stills on top of me. After a little

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while I realize he’s crying quietly as my neck and shoulder becomes

wet with his tears. I don’t dare call him on it. I have the feeling he’s

never done this in anyone else’s presence, so I just hold him. After a

little while he gets up and goes to the bathroom. I can’t and won’t

move from his bed.

When he returns he’s calm and he looks like he’s washed his face.

“I’m sorry, Matt. Matteo.”

I love that he calls me by my full name like it’s a term of

endearment. He looks defeated. “What are you apologizing for? It was

great.”

“I used you. You gathered info from the girls. They wouldn’t talk

to me, but they told you everything I needed.”

“The papers I gave you,” I say, understanding now what he

means. “It was my job too, Nick.”

“And you did well. I told the SAC that.”

“Good.”

“You’ll go into witness protection, of course. They’ll take good

care of you there.”

“And you?”

“I might have to go deeper undercover this time. The Family

knows I was at the center this time. I can’t pretend to be innocent.”

“Deeper? Nick, you need to get out. You need to make sure they

don’t suspect you and then make a clean break.”

“Too late for that.”

“It’s never too late,” I say hopefully.

“They’re arresting them right now, Matt. All of them. Giancarlo

and Michael and Mario. Two of the girls were underage when

Michael toyed around with them. And they told you Mario

handpicked them in Belarus. And then there’s Giancarlo’s supposed

twins. They were way underage when they were smuggled into the

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country. Everyone’s going down for human trafficking and child

molestation, Matt. Right now.”

Nick picks up my pants and throws them at me. “Take a shower

and get dressed. You don’t want to be in your birthday suit when they

break in here and arrest us.”

“Nick…. What about the girls? I promised they’d be safe.”

Nick’s eyes are cold all of a sudden. “Don’t do this, Matt. I used

you. I distracted you so we could fold the drug branch and had to

sacrifice Carmine to do it, and then I distracted you last night so they

could set up the club busts. I knew that if I didn’t get your mind off

the club, you’d want to be those hookers’ knight in shining armor and

that would ruin everything.”

“You didn’t fuck me to distract me, Nick. I may not be a

relationship kind of guy, but I do know the difference.”

Nick chuckles, but there is no amusement in his face. “Dream on,

Matt.” He turns around and continues dressing.

I’m still in the shower when the SWAT team bursts through the

door. I’m allowed to dress before being cuffed and led away and just

see Nick being shoved into a police car before it drives off.

****

I wake with a start for the fifth time this week. Like every other

morning, it takes me some time to figure out where I am, but then

again, I’ve been moved around so much, it’s no surprise. I hear surf

and wind outside and remember that I’m in North Carolina, on the

Outer Banks, far enough from society to be left there for a while. I

like it here. It’s peaceful and quiet and for a city boy like me to like it,

it must be pretty magical. I’m desperately lonely, though.

For the last months, I’ve been trying to forget about Nick, if that’s

his real name at all. I can’t, though. I can’t forget how he didn’t want

to abuse me in front of Giancarlo, and how he wanted to be face to

face when he made love to me. And he didn’t fuck me. He made love

to me. I do know the difference.

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The interrogations took forever. For the longest time I was afraid

they’d forgotten I was actually on their side and not a part of the mob

family. I asked about Nick a few times, but I never got any further

than finding out he was some sort of legend with the undercover

teams. I never found out where they took him.

My hope to see him at the trial was squashed by the

announcement that it would be safer for me not to testify. I’d gathered

enough proof for them to flesh out the indictment and wouldn’t need

to actually stand up in court, since most of the girls talked in return for

being allowed to remain in the country. At least the girls were safe.

I get up and pull on some clothes. It’s full-on summer and quite

warm outside, so I go for my morning walk in baggy pants and an

oversized T-shirt. It’s quite a leap from second-hand Armani suits and

Prada shoes.

The beach is peaceful, although the sea is quite boisterous. As I’m

walking along, kicking up the sand, it hits me again that I don’t want

to be alone for the rest of my life, but the only guy I’ve ever wanted to

be with isn’t available.

I look out over the dunes and see a man walking toward me. The

sun is in my eyes so I can’t make him out very well, but I’m cautious

of any stranger coming my way, so I contemplate turning around and

going back to my beach house. If he follows, I can always call my

emergency number.

I lose sight of him on the home stretch to my beach hideout and

jump when I hear my name being called.
My name
, not one of the

countless names I’d been given every time they moved me. I don’t

dare turn around because I recognize the voice.

“This isn’t the time to tell me how naïve I was to trust you,” I say,

hoping to hide the emotions welling up in my eyes and failing

miserably. I’m glad I can pretend to be fumbling with my door so I

don’t need to turn around.

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“I wouldn’t dare,” he says. I expect him to overwhelm me with

reasons to trust him, but instead he simply stands there and forces me

to turn to face him. I get to really look at him for the first time in

months. His hair is lighter than it used to be and he hasn’t shaved in a

few days. Also, the tattoos on his neck are faded.

“Your tattoos. What…?”

“They stand out too much. I’m having them lasered but it takes

time. My hands too,” Nick says.

I take his ring-free hands in mine and look at them. “Pity. I liked

them. A lot.”

Nick extracts one of his hands and pulls away one side of his shirt.

“I’m keeping these.”

“Good,” I answer. My hands ache to touch him but I don’t. I’m

still trying to decide whether his presence is heat stroke or whether

he’s really there. “Do you have to testify at the trial?”

“Nope. Can’t.”

“Why not? You know more about their operations than anyone.”

“I can’t testify because I’m dead.”

“Dead?” I parrot, too confused to make sense.

“Where have you been these past weeks?”

“Mostly here.”

“And you never go out for a newspaper? Don’t go online, listen to

the radio, watch the news?”

“Not really,” I admit.

Nick pulls out a folded newspaper article. I open it and read the

headline. “Two key witnesses in Mob trial killed in shooting.” I spot

Nick’s name… and mine.

“We’re…”

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“We’ll have to choose new names. And move. They suggest South

America or the Middle East, but then we’ll have to learn the language

first. They figure you could pass for Middle Eastern. Lebanese or

Jordanian, maybe. How’s your Arabic?”

“I speak Spanish,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m probably a bit

rusty, but it’ll come back to me.” Then it dawns on me. “You said

“We”.”

Nick nods. “Took some finagling.”

“You call faking not one, but two deaths, ‘some finagling’?”

“Witness protection, the sequel? This isn’t just a detail to keep us

safe until the trial. There isn’t going to be a trial, at least not one we’ll

need to be involved in. They know we’ll need to be kept safe for the

rest of our lives, and they told me before the shit hit the fan that we

wouldn’t be able to disappear together. I had to push you away,

Matteo.”

In front of my eyes, always-in-control Nick Castro caves in. I see

tears fill his eyes and I’m no longer in control of my own limbs when

my arms wrap around him. “I know why you pushed me away. You

cried in my arms that night, remember.”

“I was hoping you’d have forgotten about that.”

“Not a chance, lover.”

“They convinced me I’d have to let you find your own way. Even

now I keep wondering how long we’ll be able to disappear if we stay

together. Cameras and cell phones are everywhere, Matt. Some tourist

just has to take a snapshot and we could be found out.”

“I know,” I say, letting go of him. His eyes are bloodshot and I

can’t resist wiping my hands over his face. “We’ll figure out a way.”

The skin around his neck looks raw and I’m afraid to touch it. “Does

it hurt?”

Nick shrugs. “Not really.”

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“Maybe we should move to Nova Scotia instead of South

America. You could wear turtlenecks and long sleeves until you’re

done with the lasering.”

A smile breaks over Nick’s face and I pull him down to sit next to

me on the deck. It’s strange to sit so close together and not talk, but

it’s comfortable as well, as if there’s no real need for conversation. I

still have a lot of questions. Questions I hope I’ll get to ask if Nick is

going to stick around. For now, we sit quietly watching the water roll

onto the beach, Nick’s hand in mine, although his is the bigger one. I

trace the fading lines of what was once a large red and black serpent

coiled around Nick’s arm and already miss the beautiful decorations.

It’s strange to think that after all these years of being alone and

living my job instead of working it, I actually have a real shot at a

lover, even though circumstances brought us together and it now

seems that those same circumstances might just force us to stay

together.

“Why don’t I make us some pasta for lunch?” I eventually say

after a long silence.

“I’m not really Italian, you know,” Nick says instead of