Author's Notes:
And another trilogy is born.
'Shifting Perspectives' is the third and final story in the tale of Kyle MacDenny. Minimal effort is made here to explain the backstory, so I highly recommended you read the stories in the following order:
Shifting Priorities
Shifting Gears
Shifting Perspectives
I hope you enjoy them.
All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.
********
Shifting Perspectives
********
Chapter 1
Montreal was every bit as lovely and lively as Kyle had been told, but no one mentioned how bloody cold it got in the winter! As he rushed from the taxi into the airport terminal, he longed for the heat of summer and thought fondly of his time in Santa Barbara.
Well, most of it.
He'd left some good friends behind when he'd ridden northeast from the city, gradually making his way across the states until he found himself back in Canada.
Finding a temporary place to stay in Montreal had turned out to be easier than he thought. His first night in the city, he'd gone out to sample the nightlife and bumped into a rowdy group of college girls out celebrating the start of their last year. One of the girls, a petite and feisty French-Canadian brunette named Juliette Belanger, latched onto him and ended up taking him back to her small apartment for some fun after the dancing and drinking.
Kyle's French was rusty at best, as he was only catching maybe one word in four. Juliette told him she would help him learn the language if he stuck around and helped her with the rent. He'd informed her from that first night he was on a personal quest and wouldn't be staying for long, but she'd assured him she was happy to have him warm her bed for as long as he could. She was a wonderful teacher, so Kyle's French improved quickly, but he soon realized he'd never be fluent or sound like a native speaker.
When the weather began to turn cold, Kyle rented a storage unit on the edge of the city and spent a day preparing his Harley for its extended stay. He felt a little sad but knew better than to try to keep it on the road in poor conditions. He'd paid for six months in advance to ensure his unit would remain undisturbed.
Kyle managed to get a job as a barista in a downtown coffee shop for a little walking around money, but mostly to fill up his open calendar. It was near the major investment firms, so he kept his ears open for loose talk amongst the customers. He also tracked the business world closely through newspapers and the web. These efforts helped him augment his portfolio's income with a few solid investments that approached the returns he would have seen with the company Cameron's father purchased.
Kyle reached out to the Livingstons as Christmas drew closer, and they were delighted that he still intended to visit them. Plans were firmed up, and Kyle had trouble wiping the smile from his face as he thought of them.
He picked up that Juliette had begun to distance herself from him emotionally in the past few weeks. He hadn't been sure how to deal with that as, while he liked her, that was as far as his feelings went. She'd known he wasn't going to be a permanent fixture. He tried to keep things friendly, but the smiles he received became fewer and fewer.
A little more than a week ago, Kyle arrived home after work to see a pair of man's boots by the front door. He made his way into the apartment and glanced towards the bedroom. The door was open, and there was Juliette on hands and knees on the bed with a stranger driving himself into her from behind. When Kyle didn't display any jealousy but instead, politely apologized for the intrusion, the petite woman's cool finally broke, and she flew into a rage, shocking her new partner. Kyle packed his few belongings quickly and left, wishing her well and narrowly avoiding a thrown mug.
He spent the next week in a cheap hotel and gave his notice at the coffee shop.
Finally, it was time. His saddlebags were stored with his motorcycle, so he packed a duffle he'd picked up and headed to the airport. There was news of a major snowstorm coming in, so he prayed he'd get out before it arrived.
It was a long, dull wait, but eventually, he found himself jammed in his economy window seat next to two grandmothers from Cheltenham by the names of Beryl and Abigail. Apparently, Beryl had a lovely granddaughter who had just broken up with her fiancΓ©. He learned this interesting fact before they'd even taxied to the runway.
Their flight managed to get off the ground before the storm reached its full fury, so they were on their way.
He settled back in his seat and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long flight.
-=-
"You're leaving? Again?"
"Where to this time?"
"Will you be coming back?"
"Did you ever love me?"
"Do you even know how to love?"
"You... you're a cold-hearted bastard!"
Kyle woke with a start and trembled, sweat beading his brow and his breath coming in deep gulps. He glanced around, but almost everyone was asleep, including his neighbors.
His mother's voice echoed in his mind, but the last words he recalled were said with a French-Canadian accent. Juliette's last words screamed at him as he left her apartment.
He felt his mother's disapproval settle over him. Had he used Juliette? He told her he wasn't going to stay right from day one. He enjoyed her company, and she certainly enjoyed their time between the sheets. He'd been oblivious to what had led to her explosive outburst. She'd called him several things in French during her tirade, but he'd been able to ignore it at the time as he was busy collecting his stuff to get out of there.
She'd called him uncaring. Cold. Emotionle--
The shock hit him like an open hand slap. That was his father. He'd lived with the woman without connecting with her on an emotional level as he knew he'd be leaving. He didn't let her into his heart at all. She barely registered in his life. Then he left, ignoring the pain he'd left in his wake. Fuck!
He suddenly needed to get up. He frantically nudged the two ladies next to him to wake them, then barely managed to keep from crawling over them to get to the aisle. He rushed to the small bathroom and lost his stomach contents into the small bowl. When he could heave no more, he flushed, then splashed cold water on his face to freshen up and rinsed his mouth out. He looked at the man in the mirror and was relieved
not
to see a man who didn't care. There was nothing emotionless about the haunted expression looking back at him. He held the edge of the sink to stop the shaking of his hands.
There was a gentle knocking on the door.
"Sir? Are you all right?"
"yes... I'm fine," he said, his voice wobbling.