CHAPTER 10
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Logan's Point of View:
"But what, Cayan? Why bring up the past when according to you, it no longer mattered? It's been almost four years, Cay. Do you realize that? Four years. So why now? What suddenly changed? Is there something I'm not aware of?"
Roman's voice remained hard and unyielding, making the already overwhelming silence even more pronounced. Cayan flinched as if slapped, but he squared his shoulders, and did what most people in the business world were too terrified to do, faced Roman Steele head-on.
"Because he...he...he..." the words appeared to have stuck in his throat for an uncomfortable bit before he regained his composure. "He was not the one who burned the bridge. I was. I messed up, Roman, no, I fucked up big time, and I don't even know what to do about it anymore. I don't know how to find him; I don't know how to contact him; I don't know how to fix it; I don't even know if forgiveness could be mine at this point. All I know is that I need to find him."
His voice cracked, and he turned away, his face was no longer a part of my view, but I could tell he had started to cry. Roman immediately stepped towards his spouse; all the anger and harshness from mere seconds earlier was gone as if never there. The loving husband was back on the scene, ready to comfort his spouse, but Cayan had none of it. Roman had taken only a step when the little guy lifted his hand in the universal sign for 'stay back.'
"Baby..." he called gently, but again, the little guy wanted none of it.
"I don't need coddling right now, Roman; I really don't...What happened should have never happened. It was supposed to be a conversation__ a talk between cousins, but it didn't happen that way. Instead, before either of us realized what was going on, it had turned into a fight. But not just any fight; this was ugly, vicious, so fucking vicious, and I was to blame. I was the one who blew the situation out of proportion and said things that should have never been said__that I should have never said. But because I felt justified in my anger, with little regard as to how they would affect him and our relationship, I said them anyways."
He paused, scrubbing at his face attempting to stop the steady flow of silent tears rolling down his cheek; when that did not produce the results he wanted, he pulled his hands away with a sound of disgust as tears continued to flow. All the while, Roman looked on, hands clenched at his side and a pained expression on his face. He wanted to comfort his husband but was battling the need to do so. The little guy had made it clear that he did not want to be comforted, and I could tell that my friend was warring with himself to accommodate his husband's wish.
"I mistreated him..." the little guy continued after regaining some semblance of control over his emotions, "I treated him as if he was my enemy- no, even worse. And you know what the worse part is? He just sat there and took it as though he deserved what came out of my self-righteous mouth. He was right; we- no, I judged him as if I was God and then became the offended one when he tried to defend himself from my incessant probing. We all ganged up on him under the guise of being helpful when we were far from it__ I was far from it. He and I are families, and we were friends, but I went far beyond my reach as a family member or friend. I overstepped and trampled all over his boundaries, and the craziest part, I had to nerve to be angry."
He paused once more, wiping furiously at his eyes and his now runny nose. Roman moved towards him but quickly stopped short; he was still trying to comply with his spouse's demands, while I did the same to remain hidden. I wanted to come out and demand answers -for I deserved them after all he had done to me- but I also knew the little guy would clam up if I showed myself. So with that in mind, I pulled back into the dark corner and waited for him to continue.
"And you wanna know what's worse; my anger took a while, a long while, to dissipate. That's why I stupidly told you that it was no longer important when you tried to get me to open up and talk about it. But what goes up must come down, right? And my anger was no different. It blazed hotly for quite some time but eventually died down; however, it was a little too late when it did. By then, I was so ashamed of what I had done." He whimpered.
"Every time I thought of how badly I messed up, how badly I treated him, and how badly I hurt him, I couldn't help but beat myself up about it. And yes, I fell into a depression, but it wasn't because of him; it was all me and what I did__guilt was eating me alive. And because everything in life is a chain reaction, my depressive state made you angry, and you then blamed him all because I was too much of a coward and too ashamed of myself to tell you the full story. So I understand your reaction, but he is really not to blame, baby; I am."
The watery quiver in his voice grew even more pronounced, and his tearful sniffles grew even louder as he tried to regain his composure.
"Once I admitted that I was in the wrong, I knew what I had to do; I had to fix it, I had to apologize__but then again, that would have meant admitting to some home truths and realities I was not ready to face. So, I kept pushing it aside, but you can ignore your conscience for only so long before it comes back to take its pound of flesh. I fought hard to remain unbothered, but in the end, I had to admit that despite everything he did, I was still one hundred percent wrong in how I reacted and treated him. But again, my realization came a little too late; he was already gone when I wanted to take back all I had said. He had disappeared, and the worst part, probably believing all that I said to him."
"Baby__" Roman voiced, interrupting the new bout of silence that descended around the room after the little guy's sniffling delivery, "__blaming yourself is not the answer. Yes, you may have been wrong, but your cousin was just as wrong for poking the bear and expecting it not to retaliate. He was the one who made up stories and blatantly lied about everything, not you, and I cannot believe that you've been blaming yourself all this while. Baby, it's not your fault...."
"Whose fault is it, then? Please tell me whose! Of course, it's my fault, Roman. You were not there when I... when I...."
When you, what? I bit back the demand pushing its way past my throat as his voice trailed off tearfully, and once again, I had to remind myself that even though I wanted to, it was no longer my place to become involved. That part of my life ended years ago, or so I was trying to convince myself at that moment.
"Baby, Cay, it was not your fault." Roman tried once more.
"You were not there, Roman!" The response was hard and strong. "I said vile things...disgusting things...things that never should be said to anyone, let alone someone you claimed to love and care about."
"Baby, you're exaggerating. You were angry but wouldn't intentionally be mean or hurtful to anyone." Roman's denial was soft and soothing, which was understandable; he wanted to comfort his distraught spouse, but it was no help.
"You wouldn't be so quick to jump to my defense if you had heard what I said," returned the little guy, moving away from my husband's outstretched arms.
"Well, why not repeat what you said and allow us to judge how bad it was? Wouldn't that be better than this pointless back and forth?" I called out impatiently, my voice ringing loud and clear around the room.
And just like that -after my self-lecture of not wanting to become involved- I blew my cover. So much for 'that part of my life being over' and my 'ironclad' will. Retracting my words or never having said them would have been ideal; it was, however, far too late at that point. And punishing myself after the fact would have also been just as pointless. Right then, my need for answers overrode all else. Startled, they both swung towards the source of interruption as I stepped out from the darkened corner into the dimly lit Great Room. Cayan's eyes widened and shone with shock and apprehension, while Roman's shone with an anger that I ignored even as our eyes locked in a silent battle.
"So you've taken up eavesdropping?" He was the first to break the silence.
"I was just passing by," I answered, mimicking his unfriendly tone.
"Bullshit!"
"Then, why did you ask?" I didn't bother informing him that I was indeed on my way to the kitchen when I heard voices coming from the great room. Getting answers was of more importance.
"I'm sorry, Logan, but this discussion has nothing to do with you...." the little guy's voice trailed off when I turned to face him. He immediately stepped closer to his husband, who was more than happy to anchor him to his side. I was surprised by his action, but I was probably not hiding my emotions as well as I thought I was.
"Has nothing to do with me? Are you sure?" I challenged him with a smile that did not reach my eyes.
"He's family, okay?" he cried defensively, "Despite all his wrongs, he is family even though I..." he trailed off once more in a meek voice. "But I won't stop trying to find him, even if that means offending you or weakening our friendship. Sorry Logan, but I have to find him."
His apology rang with sincerity; however, I could tell he was determined to follow through with his wishes, even if it meant he had to go over mine and Roman's heads. The determined tilt of his head, the stubborn jut of his chin, and an equal amount, if not more, determination shining from his eyes were telltale signs that he would not be backing down. Then, suddenly, I was struck by an image of a beautiful bronze face smiling up at me with a cute, determined, "I can do whatever I want," cat-like smile.
And for the briefest moment, I was transported back to a time when I believed myself to be the happiest when my life was perfect, and no one could tell me otherwise__ a time when he was mine. But it quickly all came crashing down when that image was overtaken by another__ a not-so-nice picture of the same beautiful face. The adoring expression had transformed into a scornful scowl of hate, disgust, and fear. Backing away from me as if I were; The devil himself, screaming insults and profanities. Cursing the day we met while telling me that he never loved me__ he could never love a person like me, and he wished for my death__ in the cruelest way possible, even if that meant bargaining away his soul to get his wish.
He and Cayan, appearance-wise, bore little to no physical resemblance; at that moment, however, they looked the same -stance and all-, and I wanted nothing more than to hold on to that image for all it was worth. But it was not real, and he was not there, which made all attempts on my part of wanting and wishing futile. So, with a heavy heart, I closed my eyes and shook away both images before advancing toward them.
"Cayan, trust me when I say that causing trouble was the farthest from my mind when I interrupted. Quite the contrary, I came in because I would like some information."
He remained stubbornly silent, lips pinched shut.
"I understand your apprehension," I continued with a much more relaxed smile, "but as I said, I want just a little information. You wouldn't deny me that, would you?" Not buying my friendly facade, he crushed himself even closer to his husband's side, who wasted no time becoming his shield. Not that I would have done anything to the little guy, but my friend was not taking any chances, and he was making that clear when he stepped in front of his husband's body, blocking him from my view.
"Logan." The warning note in Roman's voice was obvious__dangerous, and the stance of his body even more so.
"What?" I answered in kind, already pissed off by the situation. We all knew he was protective of his family, but he did not need to act as though I was about to harm his husband in any way.
"Walk away." The angry heat in his gaze would have sent many running to the hills. His body language reeked of hostility__combativeness.
"Or what?" I challenged, my hostility shining through, ready for whatever was about to happen if things got out of hand.
"Baby, please." The small pleading voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown at what could have potentially become an ugly situation. I then watched my friend, as if under a spell, visibly relaxed under the comforting hands of his spouse. My anger, however, was not so quickly doused.
"Do you want to do this now?" Roman directed the question at me after expelling a loud breath.
"There is no better time than the present, Rom, so why not?" I answered in a casual manner while trying my best to relax. "It's not as if we have somewhere better to be at almost four in the morning. Well, we could argue that this is the ideal time to enjoy the comforts of our beds, but as we are down here and not in the arms of Morpheus, the legitimacy of that argument would be invalid."
"You are correct, Log. We can all benefit from some sleep right now, so why not leave this conversation until after we have had some time to think." Roman tried reasoning with me, but being reasoned with was not why I revealed my presence.
"No," I stated. "There is no better time than the present. Furthermore, we all know what happened the last time you withheld vital information from me; let's not make this time a sequel."
"Haven't you moved on already? What is it with everyone and their sudden interest in the past? It's been years. Furthermore, aren't you seeing someone at the moment?"
"Roman, being seen with someone does imply a relationship. He and I had a mutually beneficial agreement that ended weeks ago. So, whether I've moved on or not is irrelevant__I still want to know. Why? For the same reason you would if it was Cayan."
The stillness of his body was immediate; he seemed frozen in time for seconds, eyes widened in disbelief at my answer, "What in the world are you talking about, Logan? You cannot be serious." However, his reaction was not surprising, given the nature of my confession.
He was not alone in his reaction; I, too, was shocked by what I said and what it implied, but I wasn't surprised by the sudden onset of impulsiveness that overtook me. Which, for a man who prides himself on being logical, methodical, and strategic, was disgraceful. It was shameful to admit that being impulsive where 'he' was concerned seemed to be my default setting. But there was no turning back. The door had already been -by me- busted open.
And even though I wanted nothing more than to put it back together, slam it shut and walk away without a backward glance as I once had. Something inside me raged, rebelled, and rejected even the thought of me doing so again.
Looking back, there was no denying that something must have been clinically wrong with me because nothing could explain why I was willing to punish myself again. Was opening Pandora's box once more worth it? Was I willing and ready to walk through hell once more for the third time? Those questions raged repeatedly, and they still do; the implication of what I was about to do was monumental; however, that did nothing to damper or end my desire.
"I assure you that I am very serious, Rom." Unwavering in my resolve to once again__willingly__ jump into the flames of the hell only he could drag me to. "If I weren't, I wouldn't be in here demanding answers, would I?" I had made my decision; consequences, be damn.
Even being the subject of his probing gaze meant nothing to me. The way he looked at me was very telling; it was as if he was trying to decipher and dissect what was happening inside my head. Or maybe he was wondering if I had gone insane. After all, according to that cliche adage, 'insanity was repeatedly doing the same while expecting a different result.' And that couldn't have described my situation more accurately if it tried. Where he was concerned, receiving the same results over and again has been the only constant.
But at that very moment, not even I knew the full extent of what I was asking for__'he' had taken over. And my instincts to walk away, forget the past and protect myself__became both invisible and invalid. Roman's gaze spoke volumes; even so, he nodded in understanding while stepping away from his husband, who had remained quietly hidden, and giving us both anger-filled glares.
"Baby," he urged his reluctant husband.
"Look," the little guy started after a while, "I know you're still angry at him for what he did to you while in college, and I can't blame you for wanting your pound of flesh, but as cliche, as this may sound, you were all young and dumb. He was younger and more idiotic than all of you. Does that excuse his fucked up decisions and selfish behavior? No, it does not. And I will never say otherwise. However, I will not hand him over to you on a silver platter to be ripped apart. I turned my back on him once before, and as God is my witness, I will never do so again. I could blame every little thing around me for what I did. I could blame my anger, what you told me about him, and millions of others as my reason for abandoning him, but..."
"And who said I wanted to rip him apart?" I interrupted casually.
"Logan, please. I may not be a businessman like you and this caveman I call a husband, but I am certainly not dumb, so cut the crap, will you? The look on your face when you walked in said it all. So I get it, you hate him and have every right to, and I will never presume to tell you how you should feel when it comes to him. But as I said before, this has nothing to do with you__" he then turned to his husband, "or you for that matter, and nothing any of you say will change my mind. So I want- no, I need to find him. I need to apologize and try to fix what I broke. After all, he didn't burn the bridge between us. I did."
"Baby, what are you talking about?"
"What do you think happened after you guys told me all that he did, huh? I, of course, confronted him about it and..."
A noise had us all swinging toward the secondary entrance of the great room.
"I didn't know we were having a meeting," Alex called out, as surprised to see us as we were to see him and Gabe. It appeared as though, like us, they had other activities that did not involve sleeping in mind. Gabe showed every sign of having been thoroughly fucked; from the slumberous passion-filled eyes and swollen moist lips to the glowing skin and the barely being able to walk wobbly legs. "By the looks of it, a serious one at that," he continued, leading Gabe -who sat with a grateful sigh- over to one of the large sectionals in the room, "and I was not invited. So, what's going on?" he asked after a long pause.
"__and ended up breaking apart and trampling everything that held our friendship together." The little guy continued as though Alex ad Gabe's interruption had not happened.
"So, it's Caleb." Alex guessed, quick on the uptake of the conversation. He then leaned back against the wall next to where his husband sat, head tilted to the side in wait for the exchange to continue.
"Baby, it couldn't have been that bad. I mean, it was just a fight, right?" Roman also continued as though there had been no interruption. "And fights sometimes get out of hand; however, I still do not believe you would intentionally be mean or hurt anyone."
"I don't believe so either, Cayu," Gabe called out after he had found himself a comfortable position.
The little guy sniffled loudly but quickly hardened his face, "Well, I don't believe that telling someone that they are an empty shell filled with nothing but anger and hate was me being nice. Neither was telling them that they were the human equivalent of trash."
If we were not shocked before, his following words rectified it.
"I also highly doubt that calling them disgusting, and telling them that they should be ashamed to look themselves in the mirror, along with a list of other horrendous insults, were compliments. Do you? I highly doubt it. But did I stop there? Of course not. Why stop when you could go even further and cause more damage? I also had to tell him what a disgrace and failure he was, how he was no longer my family, never to contact me again, and then to top it all off __to wallow in filth __and die alone. So you see, not so nice after all. It wasn't a fight. It wasn't a fight at all, it may have started as one, but it didn't end that way. And that's not even the half of it."
Somewhere around the mid-mark of his explanation, his hardened facade crumbled, and tears again started to fall; soon, they flowed freely. He then pushed himself into a corner, wrapped his arms around his body, and doubled over slightly; it appeared that just repeating what he had said was causing him physical pain. However, as soon as his husband reached out, he pushed the comforting hand away, refusing to be consoled.
"I'm fine, Roman," he said after several unconvincing hiccups.
"Stop saying you're fine when we can all see that you are not," Roman growled, the loudness of his voice a testament to how frustrated and helpless he felt with his husband's state. "That day when I got back and caught you on the phone, you were crying the same way you are now, so..."
"Yes, I was. That day was a fight, but... what happened after__after my talk with you guys, what happened wasn't what anyone would call a fight, let alone a fair fight. It was total annihilation_judgemental destruction of everything he was. He never said a single word to defend himself, even when he tried; I didn't allow him to speak, the fight..." he curved his fingers into quotation marks, "was all me, saying all I wanted to say without any thoughts for his well-being, or the consequences. Even when he begged me to listen, to give him a chance, I...."
"But that was just anger talking, Cayu," Gabe cut him off, "I am positive you wouldn't have said those words to him otherwise. It was just a fight that got out of hand, that's all."
"Even though I appreciate it, please do not try to excuse or justify my behavior, Gabe. I was wrong. All of you know I was wrong, so please don't cuddle or try to make me feel better when I know what I did."
"Cayu, I'm in no way trying to defend you blindly. And I'll be the first to say that you were wrong, that you fucked up, but what good is beating yourself up about it, now? Will it take away what you said? Will it help you or the situation in any way? Will it assuage your guilt and wash away the shame and disappointment you have in yourself? No, no, and no, so I suggest looking on the bright side of this; it's been almost four years, which means there is a possibility of making this right. Years possess the unique ability to soften situations and make what seemed so bad then not so bad now. Most of the time, years make the impossible possible."
"If years had such an amazing ability, why did he pretend not to know me when I called him three weeks ago."
"Pretend?" I asked, unable to remain quiet any longer. I was angry, all-consuming, pure, unadulterated rage coursed through me. But my anger was not directed at the little guy; it would have been unfair if it was__it was directed solely at myself. And it was the same for both Roman and Alex. If only we had not told him everything and kept our mouths shut, this wouldn't have happened. But, as the little guy had stated earlier, it was and still is a little too late for regrets.
"Yeah, I called him as soon as I got the text from the PI guy. It was late, and I hadn't noticed how much until he told me it was three a.m__."
The irony of his timing then, as it was at that moment, was almost comical; three a.m was the time to mess with your mind.
"__we talked for a bit, but it didn't go well; first, he believed that I had the wrong number, then he assumed that I was trying to prank him, then he shut me down by asking who I was. I assumed he was either joking, being mean, or just plain angry with me, but even after I told him who I was and gave him my last name, his only response was, 'I still don't know you,' and he hung up."
"Cayan, this is Caleb we're talking about." Saying his name for the first time in years felt better than it should. God! It felt good rolling off my tongue__pleasurable even. However, I had to refrain from repeatedly saying it or risk embarrassing myself with its effect on my body. All of my senses, as though they were asleep, burst to life, sharp, sensitive, and throbbing with an excitement I had not felt for the longest time__ a time when he was in my life__ a time when he was my all. I then had a sudden urge to laugh, dance, and jump around for joy while, at the same time, I wanted to curse, rage, and punch a wall. I, however, did neither; I kept those emotions tightly bottled, ignoring them as they raged on.
Keeping my voice neutral, I continued, "He tends to tease and play around when he's angry, that's all." I, unfortunately, was all too familiar with said reaction.
"I also believed that, but it didn't sound like he was. It was as if he truly didn't know who I was. There was no recognition in his voice, none whatsoever. I even called the next day just in case my timing was what put him off, but he hasn't responded since."
"But wouldn't it be better if you visited him? After all, it is best to talk in person in this type of situation." Gabe added his two cents.
"I would, but he has disappeared again." The little guy said lowly, furiously wiping at his face.
"Again? I truly believe that he thinks of himself as the reincarnation of Houdini with all the disappearing acts he pulls. So where has he disappeared to now? Mars?" Alex's sarcastic tone hit a nerve, but I pointedly ignored it.
"No need to poke fun, Alex, but to answer your question, I believe he is still very much a citizen of earth. The only problem is I need to find out which part of the earth he is residing in at the moment. Well, that's not accurate; I know he is in the US, but which state or city? No clue. That's why I hired a PI. After our fight, I assumed that getting back in contact with him would be easy, but after months of getting nowhere, I hired the PI guy. Who later told me that it had been almost a year since he had left the country."
"Where did he go?"
"According to the PI, he traveled to Ethiopia for work."
"I still don't understand why you had to hire a PI," Gabe grumbled, "couldn't his parents tell you where he was?"
The little guy paused as if debating whether to answer, but after a few long seconds, he decided on the former.
"Mom and I did contact Aunt Margaret and uncle Kent__I would not go into details, but they had no idea where he was. Hence, the PI."
At that point, it was a three-way conversation. Rom stood there gazing with furrowed brows while my face was devoid of all the turbulent emotions inside me; I was storing away every little piece of information I could.
"This new PI could only get his number this time before he disappeared again."
"No offense Cayu, but that guy sounds useless," Gabe voiced angrily.
"I have to agree with you, babe." Added Alex.
"I don't believe__."
"I know," Gabe exclaimed, interrupting with a snap of his finger, "isn't Caleb very close to a professor? Why don't you contact him? Maybe he'll help?"
The little guy suddenly appeared visibly uncomfortable, as if he wanted to throw up, "The professor is not going to help."
"What do you mean he's not going to help?" I asked, no longer able to mask both my anger and frustration.
"Exactly that, Logan," Roman answered. "He said, and I quote, 'I will never allow you disgusting lots to hurt my son ever again,' when we called him. Cay pleaded with him, and he still refused, and as you well know, his parents are of no use, so we are pretty much at zero. So I'm going to get Vict..."
"No need." I interrupted, "I'll do it." I responded before walking away. I had heard enough. It was time for action.
A week had passed since then, and unfortunately, my decision to take action came with its consequence. For a long time, he did not come to visit me in my dreams, yet the moment I heard his name, the dam on my heart and mind broke, and all too soon, I found myself tortured by memory after memory of him. I was thrust right back into the same hell I had spent years avoiding, and all too soon, I found myself weakly going back to the same antidotes that had once worked. On nights when it was impossible to close my eyes without his face, his smile, his body, his passion, his anger... his hate... especially his hatred. Sex, work, and sleep deprivation became my constant companion.
I, however, cannot and will not complain. I alone was the one who, regardless of the consequences, decided to walk back into hell for him willingly. And by God, he will come back with me voluntarily, or I will drag him back bound and gagged, kicking and screaming. But, this time, he will not escape me.