Fist to the Heart

Chapter Thirteen - Let Me Be The One To Hold You

Ruslan had slept fitfully throughout the night, his so-called rest plagued by nightmares, or better said, pieces of them that made no sense at all. He willed himself to stretch over to the nightstand and check his phone. There were no missed calls, no messages.

What could have caused Johnny to get up and leave like that? And why all the secrecy? Weren't they together? A part of him wanted to revolt, but another was gripped by fear. What if Johnny had left for good? What if it was something he had said? Ruslan knew he could be dense sometimes.

The phone rang, and he almost sent it flying to the floor, that fast he tried to move to reach for it. "Papa," he mournfully said as he answered.

It wasn't like he could keep things hidden from his parent.

"What's wrong, Russy?" the old man's voice came through.

"Nothing, I guess." Ruslan tried to shrug it off for the moment. "Are you calling about dinner? Papa, I don't think -"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about Johnny. He's not picking up," his father interrupted him.

"I know," Ruslan said softly. He squeezed the phone hard in his hand.

"Did you two fight over something?"

Ruslan exhaled. "No. I mean, all seemed fine. Just that, yesterday evening, he got a phone call and left in a hurry. He didn't tell me what it was all about. He just ... left."

It was hard to pretend he was okay, now that he was saying the words out loud. He left.

"There can be many explanations for that. And you are coming to dinner, Russy, with or without Johnny."

His papa's voice was stern. Ruslan knew that voice and what it meant. That he had no reason to fear and that he needed to reach inside and find his peace.

"But what if -" he started.

"No 'what ifs', Russy," his papa interrupted him. "You know what this means. It means nothing. Johnny had an emergency, and he will be back. If he preferred being alone, that was his choice. Have a bit of trust in him."

Ruslan knew his father was right. Still, he could not stop the inner tremble that had started since the moment Johnny had been out the door.

"You know you'll always have us, Russy," the old man said quietly.

"I know," he whispered.

"And Yanis. See? Even I agree that your good for nothing friend actually has his uses. And don't worry. I will investigate this. If Johnny is in trouble with a certain someone -"

"Do you mean Nigel?!" Ruslan didn't want to believe that. Had he put Johnny in danger simply by being stupid and letting himself drugged by that asshole?

"Don't worry, Russy. I will let the Davenports know that my protection extends over Johnny."

"But what if it's too late for that?" Ruslan shouted.

"No 'what ifs', Russy. That's the deal." His papa was back at being firm.

"Okay," he murmured.

"I'll let you know as soon as I get hold of the man. Dinner tonight, Russy. We won't be able to enjoy our meal without you."

His heart was just a tiny bit less heavy when he got off the phone. If his papa was on it, he would find out about Johnny sooner or later.

***

"Mr. Bryne, I understand that you wanted to see me." A woman dressed in white approached him.

"You're the one in charge?" Johnny asked gruffly, as he stood up from the tiny plastic chair.

For hours, he had sat there, waiting for news.

"Yes." The woman straightened up as if she tried to compensate for the difference in height between them.

"Then tell me how the hell something like this could happen!"

Johnny knew that shouting wouldn't solve anything, but at least it was a way to get rid of some of the anger boiling on the inside.

"Mr. Bryne, I suggest that you keep your voice down. Patients need their quiet. Please, follow me, and we'll talk in my office."

Johnny nodded without another word. He towered over the woman in white by at least half a foot, but it was like his life was in her hands.

He sat on a chair that sighed under his weight after the woman gestured at him to sit down.

"What do you want to know, Mr. Bryne?" The woman placed her hands neatly on the table and stared at him through her thick-rimmed glasses.

"How the hell could a thing like this happen? And why isn't she in a real hospital?"

"Language, Mr. Bryne. This is not the ring, as you may well see."

Johnny ground his teeth hard. It could have been easy to reach over the table and strangle the woman until she was left breathless.

"Now." The woman stared at him without one trace of fear in her gray eyes. "Your mother has been unwell for years now."

"Tell me why she was left to wander around this goddamn place. It's November, for fuck's sake!"

The woman exhaled. "She was not left to wander. This is not a prison, Mr. Bryne. The patients are not exactly kept under lock and key."

"Shouldn't someone be in charge of them, though? Some of them are," Johnny struggled to find his words, "not all up here, are they?" He gestured for his temple.

"Someone is in charge," the head nurse agreed for once. "It is unfortunate that this happened. Believe me. The one responsible will be severely reprimanded."

"Reprimanded," Johnny scoffed. "My mom wanders off and catches pneumonia, and what do you do? Why the hell am I paying you, people?"

"Mr. Bryne," the woman said in an even tone, "you are free to take your mother and your money somewhere else."

He stared at her. This time, there was a small sign of fear, just a speckle, but enough to tell him that his face inspired enough respect.

"We can assure you that we are offering your mother the best care, as we speak. There is nothing for you to do now, and we only wanted to keep you informed. That is all. We didn't ask you to come down here to cause a scandal."

"I want to see her."

"She is resting."

"I want to see her," Johnny repeated, and this time, he said the words through his teeth.

"Fine." The head nurse stood up. "Come with me, but no nonsense from your part, Mr. Bryne. Your mother needs to get well."

The woman's moves were brusque. Johnny could tell that she wasn't pleased with him.

He followed her down the corridor to a door that looked different than the ones leading to the regular rooms.

"See? She is asleep," the nurse pointed out.

Johnny ignored her and walked over to his mother's bed. She looked so small in that large bed like little was needed for the white sheets to swallow her.

"She looks thinner than last time," he mumbled, as his hands hovered over his mother's, resting on top of the sheets, pale and showing dark blue veins.

"We can do only this much when it comes to convincing her to eat. From time to time, we're even giving her glucose, delivered via IV."

"How generous of you," Johnny said sarcastically.

"It's all that's covered," the nurse pointed out.

Of course, covered by the payment. Johnny's blood and sweat poured into payments. To the nursing home, and the debt collectors. Not his tears, though. He had not shed a tear since he had been a runt.

"Let us alone," he barked at the nurse.

"Lower your voice, Mr. Bryne," the nurse scolded him.

"Out," he said in a lower tone but gestured with his chin toward the door.

The nurse shrugged and walked out. Johnny went closer and stared at his mother's face for a few long minutes.

"Why aren't you eating, mom?" he asked, his voice hoarse and unnatural.

To his surprise, his mom's eyelids fluttered, and slowly her eyes opened.

"Johnny, are you back from school? There's a casserole in the fridge. I have to leave for work now."

Johnny placed his hand over his mother's and squeezed it.

"Your father's not coming tonight, either," she said, and this time her voice seemed filled with hate. "That woman," she hissed, "always that woman."

Johnny frowned. His father had been a gambler and a piss poor scammer, but Johnny had never heard of him being unfaithful.

"What woman, mom?" he asked his heart in his throat.

"That Davenport floozy." His mom pursed her lips. "I'm telling you, Johnny, if that big shot husband of hers finds out about their fooling around, you'll read about them both in the morning paper. They'll find them with their throats slashed and thrown into some ditch, like dogs."

His mother's face was splotched with red, and a bout of cough seized her.

"Mom, you need to rest." Johnny caressed her hair. "Do you need some water?"

He tried to reach for a plastic cup left on the bedside table, but his mother's gnarly hand caught his wrist.

"Johnny, promise me that you won't end up like your father. Don't go messing with women wearing fancy dresses and diamonds in their ears."

His mother had no idea about him and his preferences. And when she had turned like that, it had been too late.

"I won't," he said softly.

"Promise me, Johnny," his mother insisted.

"I promise, mom."

"Be a good boy, Johnny. Don't fall for the charms of some rich girl. She'll use you and dump you. That's what they do. That's what happened to your father. Oh, he was a charmer, wasn't he? He thought he could fly to the moon and touch the stars, and maybe steal some. But he got burnt with that Davenport bitch."

"What are you saying, mom?" Johnny caressed her hand, but it didn't look like she was willing to let go of him.

"That was when he disappeared," she said in a low voice, stealing glances around. "Some say she ran away with him. But I don't think so." She shook her head. "No, they're in a ditch somewhere."

Johnny could feel his blood freezing in his veins. What was his mother trying to tell him? Could it be that his father had been a cheater on top of everything else?

"How could I live after he left?" His mother's hand released his and dropped on the white sheet like dead weight. "You were with me. That's why. But they came to drag you away. To make you pay, for what your father did."

Suddenly, she began to sob uncontrollably.

"Mom," he whispered, "it's okay. I'm here. Your son, Johnny, is here."

"Johnny," she cried and clutched at him, "why is your father never home?"

He felt her forehead. She was burning like a furnace. Damn, he needed to call that nurse and ask him if that was normal. No wonder his mother was frantic. Who knew how high her fever was running?

"Mom, I need to get the nurse," he told her, as he tried to pry himself free.

"Just promise me, Johnny," she continued to hold him, "that you won't go with some fancy rich girl. She'll be the death of you like that Davenport whore was the death of your father."

"I promise you, mom," he whispered into her hair, caressing her.

His mom had always wanted what was best for him. And right now, she was making him face the grim reality. It wasn't his place to fool around with Ruslan while his mother was fading away. She was right. Rich people had pushed his family into the chaos and misery they were in. Maybe even killed his father, although he could not tell whether his mother was telling the truth or not.

What had Mr. Kent said that time? That Francis Davenport would have killed him if it had been that personal the grudge the man was holding him. Could it be that his mom was telling the truth about his father? And by 'that Davenport woman', maybe she meant that man's wife.

That could explain the punishment he was still going through. It also explained the beating he had gotten when he had refused to fight high as a kite. Except for killing him that man had done everything to him.

***

"Have you heard from Johnny, papa?" Ruslan rushed to answer, the moment his phone started ringing.

"Apparently, he is back to training at his old gym," his father replied. "I would scold you over not greeting me properly first, but seeing how much you yearn to see your boyfriend, I will just let it slide this time."

"At his old gym?" Ruslan expressed his surprise. "What could he be doing there? Never mind, papa, thank you. And sorry for being like this."

"Russy, be careful. We all like Johnny, and we want him to be part of the family. But if for whatever reason, he doesn't want the same thing, I'd say to let him be."

"Papa, I thought you liked Johnny now," Ruslan complained.

"All I care is protecting you, Russy, and you know it. Johnny has problems of his own."

"Of which none of you care to talk about." Ruslan huffed in annoyance. "It's unfair that he seems to share some things with you, but he doesn't want to do the same with me."

"I can share them if you want."

"No, Johnny would feel betrayed and, anyways, I want him to be the one to talk to me about this. Well, thank you for letting me know where he is, papa. I'll make sure to get him to understand where he belongs."

"Russy -"

"Don't worry, papa. You won't have to mend my broken heart this time. Because I'm a little pissed at the guy right now and I'm not just a boy anymore."

It was true. Had he learned that Johnny had something terrible happening to him, he would have rushed by his side, willing to forget all about his own hurt. But it looked like Johnny was well enough if he could train. And that was making him a little bit upset with his lover.

Who was he kidding? Ruslan felt plenty upset at the moment. So much that he wanted to find the means to teleport to where Johnny was training, and slap the man silly for making him worry so much. Now there was no time to dwell over what he would or wouldn't do. The most important thing was to see Johnny, and maybe kiss him or slap him, or any other thing. He would see once there.

***

His father hadn't been wrong. Johnny was there, beating the crap out of a worn out speed bag, with a deep frown on his face. Ruslan felt relieved. Johnny appeared to be okay. He walked over to him, hoping that Johnny wouldn't tell him to fuck off, at least, not without giving him a strong reason to do so.

"Hey," he said, his hands deep into his pockets, his whole attention trained on the other.

Johnny stopped and turned to look at him. The frown only deepened. "I'm training," he said curtly.

"I can see that."

"Then don't mind if I get back to it." Johnny made a move to punch the bag again, but Ruslan caught his arm.

"Seriously, Johnny? You get up and leave, you don't call, you have your phone turned off, and I'm supposed to come here and what?"

"Nobody asked you to come here," Johnny said but didn't remove his arm from Ruslan's hold.

"No, because there's no need for that. I came here because I care what the hell is happening with you. Tell me how do you think that's normal? For you to leave like that and not care that I worry about you?"

"You worry about me?" Johnny's mouth was set in a deep, harsh line, and his eyes weren't looking at Ruslan.

"Yes. I thought you were my boyfriend. I thought we were together. What? You've never had a lover, so you don't know that me worrying about you comes with the territory?"

The look Johnny finally threw at him was pained. "Look at you, pretty," Johnny said softly.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Ruslan reined in the trembling of his hands.

"Yeah," Johnny confirmed. "You're high class, and I'm trash. We're never going to happen. Just let me be, and I'll let you be, too."

"We were happening until you bolted out the door without telling me anything. So don't give me that crap. Plus, that was definitely not what you were thinking while pumping my ass full of cum."

Johnny threw a few glances around. Ruslan didn't have to look to know that they had a bit of an audience which, most probably, was finding something else to do right now.

"And what's all this about how we're different? We're not. Let me tell you something about me, Johnny. I'm like you."

Johnny stared at him. "Are you done? I told you. I need to train. Money doesn't grow on trees for some of us."

"Oh, fuck me," Ruslan moaned. "It's not like I don't know that. I was just lucky, that's all. All you see now, my clothes, my house, it's all because of luck."

"Yeah, lucky to be born rich," Johnny shot back at him. "Ruslan, I'm fucked up, okay? Maybe you're fucked up, too, and you feel better if you're with a fuck up like me. But I won't let you fuck me up even more, and I'm sure as hell that I don't want to fuck you up more, either."

"Come with me." Ruslan grabbed Johnny's hand.

For a second, Ruslan feared that Johnny would resist. He had no means to make two hundred pounds of pure manly muscles move. So he hoped his determination was enough. Fortunately for him, Johnny finally decided to move.

They walked quietly out of the room, under the curious looks of bystanders. Ruslan could not care less about them.

"Where are we going?" Johnny asked.

"Somewhere quiet," Ruslan replied. "Your room."

He knew how to find his way around there, so he pulled Johnny after him, afraid that he would change his mind.

Ruslan pushed the door open and closed it after as if that was his room, not Johnny's. His lover was looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

"What's your problem, Johnny? Where the hell have you been? Don't you dare to say that it's none of my business." Ruslan stood tall, looking Johnny straight in the eye.

"Family business," was the short reply.

"All right, I understand. And what kind of family business was that?"

"None of -"

"I told you. Don't you dare."

"My mom is sick."

Ruslan exhaled. "I'm sorry to hear that. But how is that a reason for you to get away from me like that?"

"We're just fucking, Ruslan. It's not like we said some vows or anything."

Ruslan blinked hard a few times. "I wasn't saying that we were engaged or something, either. But still, we're not just fucking. We're friends, okay?"

It was Johnny's turn to blink like there was something in his eye.

"So, tell me, is she all right now?"

"Yeah, she's stable. Or so they say."

"Where is she?" Ruslan asked. "We can find a place, a much better one, for her."

"Will you stop throwing your fucking money in my face?" Johnny looked down at Ruslan in anger.

"I'm not throwing anything in your face, you fucking -" Ruslan stopped and swallowed his words.

"Oh, no, don't stop," Johnny said sarcastically. "What were you trying to say? That I'm an asshole? That I'm an idiot?"

"A bit of an ass, but whatever," Ruslan replied, pursing his lips. "Johnny, let me help you. Other people helped me when I was in need."

"And what need was that? You're just a rich spoiled fancy dude," Johnny said.

"Rich? Spoiled? Fancy? Okay, let's make a few things clear. Maybe you're right, and we were way too busy fucking. We didn't have time to talk to each other properly."

"What? You're trying to say you're not rich and all that?"

"Maybe I am. But only right now. I haven't always been rich, and the chances are that I might not be that well off in the future. I am saving some money, of course, but -"

"Is papa having money troubles?" Johnny snorted. "Maybe he shouldn't be throwing money on stupid amateur tournaments then."

"Ugh, listen to me, you big oaf. I'm trying to tell you something here!"

Ruslan could feel his patience running thin. He wasn't even that sure he wanted to pour his heart out, especially with Johnny being like that.

"Tell me the truth about your mother." Ruslan chose to ease the burden on Johnny's shoulders, first. "How bad is she?"

"I told you." Johnny was working his jaw. "You know what, Ruslan? Maybe you're right. I am an asshole for treating you like this. But now it's not a good time. What my mom told me, she reminded me of where I stand in this world."

"I have no idea what she told you. And I don't know her. But I can tell that you care for her a great deal, and probably she has always cared for you, as well. So you're lucky. Because I had nothing like that until -"

"She told me some stupid shit my father did. She told me not to make the same stupid mistake."

"Which is?" Ruslan insisted.