New Life Ch. 02

Thank you all for continuing Neville's story with me. I appreciate your support and critiques. I'll correct an error I made with my last installment here. This series is a continuation of "Fresh Out". If you aren't familiar with the characters and you read this you'll have tons of questions that will all be answered if you read through the "Fresh Out" series. Thanks again for reading.

*****

It wasn't just him. There was a woman with him. Short, dark skin, round hips, and a funky purple afro. Her face looked familiar but try as I might, I couldn't put a name to it. She had tears in her eyes and I felt bad. They had to be for me and I didn't even know her name. They were holding hands. Holding each other up as they came closer. The contact between them made me uncomfortable. It must have been on my face because he laughed as he let her go and came to my bedside.

"I didn't know what to think when Chrissy wouldn't let me back in," he said as he kissed my forehead. His hand slipped behind my head and he ran his fingers along my neck. His other arm was in a cast and I reached to grab it but my hand fell short. I tried again, twice before I touched it and he pulled it away. "I caught one before it got you. Couple screws and a plate. No biggy..."

"Slow down Breeze," she said with a sniffling giggle as she took my hand. I almost pulled away but she kept talking. "Let him catch up a little. We don't even know...Just slow down."

I wanted to tell her to shut up and let him finish but I couldn't make the words. "Talk." It was the best I could do as I looked up into his eyes. Then I shift them back to her and managed to say, "Listen."

"Well excuse me for trying to look out for my little cousin," she said with a smirk then kissed my cheek. She took my hand in both hers and kissed my palm.

There was so much love in that touch. Too much for me not to remember her name. I stared at her long and hard, willing myself to remember. She held my gaze, almost like she knew. He knew it too, because he didn't say a word. But that didn't stop his fingers on the back of my neck. There was love in that touch too, but it was different. Distracting, and I shook my head away. I heard his chuckle but I didn't take my eyes off her. I reached up to touch her face, my heavy hand slapped her a little but she laughed and held it there. Still looking at me. Waiting.

"It's okay Magilla. It'll come back to you," she said and I sucked my teeth.

"Paris," I said, but it sounded more a curse, even on my ears.

"I told you not to call him that," he said with a smirk and rubbed his hand along my face. "So...uhhh...shot in the dark, you don't remember what happened. I'd say that's a good thing since I remember enough for both of us." His eyes welled up again and I tried to wipe his tears. That made him smile as he lean on the edge of my bed. The rails were still up, so he couldn't sit but he didn't seem that interested in letting me go, nor did Paris, which was good. After so much time alone, I needed the contact.

I'd taken him on a date, our first date. My first real date with someone whom I wanted to spend intimate time. As Breeze told of the night, the vague details he gave were quickly filled in from my memory. We'd had a great time, the best time we'd had together since we were kids, talking and laughing. Even the little hiccup of his ex-wife calling didn't put too much of a damper on the situation. He didn't allow it to, with my help of course, but that's what partners do. Sexual or not. The more he spoke, the more I remembered. I remembered taking him home, back to his place. I remembered teasing him about giving me some loving. I remembered what I planned to do to him, with him. I remembered everything.

I remembered Claude. That petty fuck. That slimy, little dicked, pervert. Gianni had filled me in on his story after our first meeting. Ugly, filthy rich, and more closeted than I had ever been. He had a taste for young men, not exactly minors but as close to them as he could get. The more damaged the better. Gianni had speculated that he himself may have been abused as a boy but that didn't excuse his disgusting perversions. Being a young runaway, Gianni had heard stories about Claude from other boys like him. It was by pure luck that Tyler found him first and took him in, else he may have turned to selling his most prized possession for survival as many of his friends had done. If not for Tyler, Gianni may have shared the fate of one those young friends of his who had found their way into Claude's grasp. If he couldn't buy a service, he'd use their drug of choice to soften their resolve. Eventually, he quit buying company and started picking up guys at bars. That's how Colin learned of him first hand but was too embarrassed to report his abuses to the authorities. Some good did come out of it though, he cleaned himself up and got a job with Tyler. He kept his secret for a couple years before a night of beer bonding at the Garrett house where he told Gianni and Tyler of how he had gone from a promising engineering student to a construction site grunt. The two matched their stories and figured Colin's Claude was the same guy responsible for the suicide of Gianni's runaway friend. Tyler tried to convince them to tell their stories, especially Colin, but neither would. Gianni had no proof and Colin was still too shaken so Claude was allowed to continue his predilections. Neither knew of his membership to He-Den until the night they saw him with Brion. Even if he wasn't my friend they would have tried to stop what they saw as inevitable.

"I was starting think I might need to change my number," Brion said, finally telling me something I didn't know. "But what would that have done. He knew where I live, where I work. It wasn't like he was threatening either. That night was the first time he even came to my place and I figured...how could I...I ain't think he'd come back like that..." The last came out in a sob and Paris got up to do what I couldn't. She held him, let him cry into her shoulder as she stroked his back. Then I remembered something else.

"You baby he...you baby he..."

"What the fuck bruh..."

"No," Paris said with a tearful giggle. "He's not talking about you. I think he's asking about Trey," she said with a questioning look at me and I nodded. Vigorously. Not trusting my words, I looked an apology to Brion and he smiled down at me. "He's with Artie but my tits is telling me he might be looking for me about now. I'm gonna tag out but I'm not leaving, I'll send the next one." She kissed me again before she said, "Hurry up and get out of this ICU so you can see how big he's getting." And again I nodded.

"I'm so sorry Nev," He said when she was gone and I shook my head so hard the oxygen tube came loose from my ears. Brion fixed it, kissed my nose. "It is. If I ain't hit him...maybe if I didn't...I didn't have to..." I stopped his stammering with my hand on his lips and I felt them spread beneath my fingertips.

"No you...he...him...not...Fuck!"

"Shhhh," He said as he ran his hand down my face and let it settle on my chest. Brion put his forehead on mine and took a long deep breath. I felt his tears on my cheeks, his lips so close all I had to do was tip my head just a little to connect. It was quick, but it was enough to settle him. "I knew it Neville. I knew you were still here. You're still here. And I'm gonna be here with you. We gonna get through this Neville. Together. Me and you. You understand what I'm saying?" He asked and I felt my jaws clench. It was genuinely involuntary. So used to people thinking I was dumb that I assumed that he thought my wits were as lost as my speech. A snarky laugh and Brion stood to dig into his back pocket. I watched as he pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper, then glanced around the room. A pen. He put both on my bedside table and pushed it over my lap. "I know you remember these."

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. What it meant. I pushed myself forward as best I could and to his credit, Brion didn't help me. His penmanship was awful, always had been. "Don't matter, long as you get my point," he told me once. And I almost always had. Now was no different.

Will you be my boyfriend

YES!!

no : (

maybe so

"I was going to give you that in the morning...and ask you to move in with me," he said quietly, but I didn't look at him and he kept talking as if he already knew my answer. "I know what you said but I can't help but think that you weren't being exactly honest with me. Safer to say it's not what you want so if it don't happen you can't be mad right? I knew it was bullshit but I let you tell it, even gave you the opportunity to correct yourself but you ain't take it. But I let you live. Believing we was just fuckin'. Trying to believe that what you feel for me is just about us being boys. Sure that's how we started but that changed a long time ago, way before I even got inside you. That last fight...before you left...you asked me how I could love her, but you stopped yourself. It was in your face though. I asked you over and over. I wanted you to tell me but you walked away. You broke my heart..."

He only stopped talking when he felt me shoving the paper at him. He must not have been looking at me because I made a huge circle around "YES!!" and scribbled out the other options. But he kept talking and I didn't trust my voice to stop him. Didn't trust that I could put together the words to say what I wanted. I had that pen though, and some paper. I figured what the hell. So I wrote, and at first it was nothing like my usual handwriting. But as the lines progressed, the letters straightened out. My spelling became less phonetic. By the time I was done filling up the bottom half of the page under his love note and the entire back side, it was almost like normal. It wasn't the script I usually wrote in but it was passable print.

"Look...talk...say..."

"You want me to read it out loud," he asked as he took up the paper and I nodded. He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at me as he read the first line. "You always ask the dumbest questions Breeze but I love you anyway. Of course I want to be with you but do we have to call each other boyfriends? This ain't ninth grade. We grown men. We are partners. Always have been, always will be. I could never get anything past you and I knew I didn't then but I wasn't ready to give in to those feelings yet so I walked away from you. From us. I never thought we would end up here but fuck if I didn't hope. Never thought we could. Especially after how you reacted to that kiss. I admit that was kind of a fucked up way for me to spring it on you but it was easier than saying I love you. I love you. I wish I could say it now but I don't know if it will make it out. I love you. Don't ever forget it. Don't ever question it. Whether this works out or not, you have my heart bud. Always have. Always will.

I knew you were here. I felt you. I heard you. Telling me to fight. I promise I won't be punking out on you again no time soon. Not ever again. I'm in this with you. We in this together. THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! So stop believing that shit. He deserved that punch like he deserves whatever else he gets. If you didn't, I would have and then who knows where we might be having this conversation. Glass in the middle, perhaps? Either way, what happened happened but I'm still here. You still here. We still going to be Breezy baby. It's going to be hard and I'll probably need a kick in the ass every now and then but that will be easy to give under the same roof. You can use all that book learning to get me back right again. The incentives..."

He didn't finish. The rest didn't really need to be read aloud and it was probably best that it wasn't given the many ears that passed my open door. Brion folded the letter with a smirk, his cheeks red, and put it back in his wallet.

"You a mess, you know that right?" He said with a smirk and ran his casted hand up my arm, the other was busy at my neck. I was grinning again, and I remembered doing that a lot recently on account of him. "So I guess I'll be bringing you some notepads and pens then," he asked and I tugged at his sweat pants. "Yeah, yeah those too but not until the catheter comes out..."

"And that might be a while," Chrissy said from the door. She knocked first but didn't wait to be invited in. I guessed decorum went out the window in the hospital. She came over to my bedside and Brion stepped back to give her room to fiddle with buttons on my monitor. "I'm turning your oxygen down a little. From the looks of it you might not need that too much longer. You haven't drained much off that chest tube since you've been sitting up and that's a good sign. How's the pain?"

"Little...no...up...corner..."

"Your shoulder," Brion asked and I nodded. Chrissy looked from me to him and back again. "Is it normal that he can write but his speech is all jumbled like that?"

"He can...You can write," She started to ask him, not used to me being responsive I guessed but she took a little pad out of her pocket and pen. The latter she took back when she noticed the one I already held.

I started writing immediately. "My left shoulder is killing me and my chest is kind of tight. But I don't care about any of that. What I really need is some chapstick. PLEASE! And some mouth wash." She read it all aloud and they both laughed at the last.

"I think I can swing all of that," she said and smiled before she squatted down to check my drainage line. Again she uncovered my feet and poked the bottoms, told me to wiggle my toes. I did, much easier this time than the last. "Can you lift them? One at a time." And I did that too. Maybe an inch or so but I felt triumphant and Breeze put his fist to mine for daps. "How bout those arms?" My right I raised almost all the way. It was slow but I did it. My left was a different story. I could barely get it perpendicular to my torso. The disappointment was plain on my face. "Hey now, no sad faces. There's still a bullet in there. It wasn't life threatening so the surgeons left it in the hopes that once you stabilized they could go back in for it. I'm almost positive that once it's out you'll get good range of motion back."

"I think that's the one that went through my wrist first," Brion added and shook his cast at me. "Don't worry bruh. I been looking at some occupational therapy courses online. Now that you up, I'm sure getting through them will be like me," he said with a smirk and I rolled my eye. Chrissy made a face like she didn't understand and I tried to clarify.

"Wind...cold..."

"Breeze," he said with a chuckle. "He calls me Breeze."

"Because you're cold?"

"Naw, cause he couldn't say Brion when we were little guys..."

"Thankfully his name for me didn't stick," I wrote and they both laughed.

"Nabel," he said with a laugh and shook his head. "Whatever bruh, it would have been better than what did," he added with a raised eyebrow and I sucked my teeth.

"Mac," I asked him and he smiled.

"Yeah he's out there. I bet Paris is working the door to give us a minute." He looked at the clock. It was 4:15. "I'm gonna step out so they can come in. I promise I'm not leaving until they kick me out. Right Chrissy?"

"Every night I'm on I practically have to drag him away," She said with a smirk as she scribbled into my chart. When he was gone, she looked at me and smiled. But something about the way she put the chart down made me think what she might say wasn't good news. "You know it's great you can write but you can't rely on that to communicate. I know it's frustrating but you have to push yourself to work it out because clearly it's not a lack of understanding. Just some crossed wires. I may look sweet but I can be a bitch when I see my patients being lazy. I'll be with you 'til eleven tonight. Then I'll be back tomorrow and the next day 11 to midnight, off for two days after that, and when I get back I'll be taking that pad."

I scribbled hard and fast. "I don't like you," but I smiled and she laughed.

"Oh well tough cookies mister," she said with a shrug and I rolled my eyes. "You're doing great though Neville. You're strong and you got a lot of support, just don't let them be a crutch. Deal," she said and stuck out her hand. I took it and we shook. "Good grip too," she said as she left me.

I wasn't alone for long though. Mac and Margie were rounding the corner, Chrissy greeted them as she passed and Margie grabbed her in a big hug. I waved when they saw me and Margie nearly broke down. Mac held her up but he didn't seem too happy about. "Woman what you acting up for," he said as he deposited her into the chair, shaking his head. "I swear she ain't cry this much the whole time you been in here. Now all of a sudden she act like you came back from the dead..."

"Dun yuh fool wit such things Byron MacIntosh," Margie said as she looked daggers at him. "Might well be fah he. Yuh done know..."

"Miss...trouble...," Even as I spoke it, I knew it wasn't coming out right and I shook my head, picked up the pen. "Why you stay with him Margie if he give you so much trouble?" The smirk on my face implied the joke my written words couldn't and they laughed.

"Cause she like a rude boi, don't you baby," Mac said mimicking her island twang and she sucked her teeth. But she didn't deny it and that was enough for Mac to say, "Yeah, yeah that's what I thought."

They stayed with me for about an hour or so, bickering mostly, but I didn't mind. Margie made me talk more, even took my pen away. My words were still jumbled but they were coming out easier. Mac filled in the rest of what happened that night, the part that Brion left out. After dumping five bullets from his .38 revolver at Brion and I, Claude kept the last one for himself. Pinned beneath me, he probably thought Brion was dead but he pushed himself out from under me just in time to witness Claude eat his gun. His neighbor called the police at the sound of the shots and helped Brion call his father. He was so shocked that he hadn't even realized he was shot until the EMT told him. The story made the papers, and the news, effectively outing Brion to the world. And as the media spun our story towards scandal, given Claude's status as an upstanding humanitarian, his victims spoke up to clarify his story. Even Colin gave an interview.

"There was a lot of 'it was only a matter of time' and 'if I stepped up sooner maybe this wouldn't have happened'. But you can't fault none of those boys for being tight lipped about what he'd done. I'm just thankful he took care of himself, cause he damn sure wasn't making no trial," Mac said and Margie gave a "humph" of agreement. I didn't doubt either of them. "Little good came out of it. Couple sneaker companies signed on to sponsor the gym and that idiot son of mine got to realize that not too many of them parents could give a shit about who he loves. More than I can say for yours..."

"Byron!"

"What, you think the boy don't realize? He wake up and the first faces he see is Breeze, Paris, and ours. He ain't get shot in the head and he ain't no idiot," Mac said, a little too loud and I couldn't help the smirk on my face. "And before you even ask, no they ain't here. Oh they came and that high siddity bitch of his got herself escorted off the premises after she started hollering and carrying on about the nurses doing the devil's work. Talking about you and my son were being punished for being "ungodly". I tell you what my ungodly son saved her life, cause I damn near choked her. Ain't been back since."

"I think I heard that," I wrote and Margie shook her head, with tears in her eyes. I reached for her and she took my hand as I wrote a little more. "That's par for the course Margie. I can't be somebody I'm not to please people who don't give a fuck about me. She never loved me. I'm not even sure if she loves my father but that's not my problem anymore. Sure it hurts but not as much as living a lie does so I'll get over it."