Authors: C. Kennedy
Christy issued a frustrated growl and buried his face against Michael’s chest. Michael sighed and didn’t know what to say, so he simply held him and rubbed his back. He sensed that Christy wanted to tell him about his past but wasn’t yet strong enough to do it. He also suspected Christy’s ghosts were beginning to eat him alive from the inside out.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he retrieved it and looked at the text message from Jake. He wanted to meet for pizza around seven. It was only five now. He could stay with Christy a little longer. He quickly typed back
OK
with his thumb.
He stayed with Christy until his breathing evened and deepened, and he knew he’d fallen asleep. He slipped off the bed, covered Christy with the blankets, and left a note before quietly departing the room.
M
ICHAEL
tossed his backpack on the bed in Jake’s guest bedroom and hit the power button on his iPod. Cold Play’s “Fix You” filled the air, and he plopped down in the chair at the desk, withdrew his laptop from his bag, and set it up. Christy had been on the verge of telling him about his past. The anguish in Christy’s voice had caused a painful band to tighten around Michael’s heart again, and the feeling still hadn’t eased. He felt helpless to help Christy. Worse yet, he had no idea how to convince Christy that his past would never change how he felt about him. He sat for a measured moment. If he found out what happened to Christy, maybe he could make it easier for Christy to tell him about it.
You don’t know things! You don’t know about me, who I am!
Christy’s words echoed in his mind. “Who I am,” Michael repeated aloud. “Who are you?”
He brought Google up on the screen and typed Christy’s full name and Greece and hit enter. Thousands of references appeared. “What the…? You’re pretty damn popular, Christy,” he said under his breath. He couldn’t read Greek, so he clicked on Google Translate and waited… and waited…. “Come on, come on.” English finally cascaded down the screen, and what he read left him stunned and disbelieving.
G
REEK
R
EAL
E
STATE
M
AGNATE
A
CCUSED
OF
A
TTEMPTED
M
URDER
! Below the boldface headline were pictures of Christy and a handsome, silver-haired man. The date on the article was one year ago. He read the next headline and subcaption. C
ASTLIOS
C
HARGED
WITH
A
TTEMPTED
M
URDER
OF
S
ON
! C
HRISTOPHOROS
C
ASTLIOS
,
THOUGHT
TO
HAVE
DIED
THIRTEEN
YEARS
AGO
,
IS
ALIVE
! I
MPRISONED
BY
FATHER
FOR
THIRTEEN
YEARS
!
Holy shit.
Michael set the article to print and read the next headline. G
REECE
R
EELS
IN
THE
W
AKE
OF
Y
OUNG
C
ASTLIOS
’
S
U
NEXPECTED
R
ECOVERY
! M
EDICAL
REPORTS
SHOW
…. E
VIDENCE
PROVES
…
IMPRISONED
,
TORTURED
,
MOLESTED
…
FOR
BUSINESS
PARTNERS
’
PLEASURE
.
Michael closed his eyes and bowed his head. Christy’s mother dying, imprisoned by his own father, a father who molested and pandered him to his business partners. It was inconceivable. It was horrible beyond comprehension. He focused on the next headline. C
ASTLIOS
D
IES
IN
P
RISON
A
WAITING
T
RIAL
! C
ASTLIOS
I
NTERNATIONAL
NOW
BELONGS
TO
C
HRISTOPHOROS
C
ASTLIOS
! G
REECE
BOASTS
THE
FIRST
EIGHTEEN
-
YEAR
-
OLD
BILLIONAIRE
IN
HISTORY
. Y
OUNG
C
ASTLIOS
WILL
ASSUME
CONTROL
OF
C
ASTLIOS
I
NTERNATIONAL
…. The date on the article was nine months ago. He blinked and rubbed his eyes; then reread the headline. It was as shocking as the others.
He found tons more information about Christy and his family, but most of it was speculation. Christy’s mother had died in a car accident—the car accident in which Christy was to have perished. The questionable car accident had left rumors to flourish. Most were certain Vasilis Castlios had murdered his wife and son. There were also articles about a daughter who had died. There had been countless stories about illegitimate children and Vasilis paying off mothers and families. He found several pictures of Christy’s mother. She had been a model and had been absolutely gorgeous. He now knew the source of Christy’s fair hair and beauty. The articles about Christy’s abuse were unforgivably lurid and vile and proved nothing was sacred to the press. How Christy could face the outside world, Michael didn’t know. Actually, he did know. Christy wasn’t at Wellington only for care. He was hiding from the world. And now the cat was out of the bag thanks to Michael’s selfish arrogance.
I never should have coaxed you onto that stage
.
The pages slipped through Michael’s fingers and floated to the floor.
Holy Mother of God.
All the powers in existence had to be missing a food group if they allowed people like Christy’s father to come into existence.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he answered it without looking at it.
“Where are you, bro?”
Michael looked at the time on the clock by the bed. “Crap, Jake, sorry. Lost track of time surfing the net. I’ll be right there.”
“You all right? You don’t sound good.”
“Tell you when I see you.”
M
ICHAEL
walked through the door at Bella Pizzeria and found Jake at the counter. He took the stool next to him and ordered lemonade.
“Bro, man, you look terrible. What’s wrong? You and Christy have a fight?”
Michael briefly covered the events of the hospital visit.
“Sounds like the cafeteria manager won’t have a job tomorrow.”
“Don’t know and don’t care. Let’s order.”
Unaccustomed to brevity in Michael, Jake’s brows shot to the heavens. “Okay, what do you want?”
“Greek pizza.”
Jake grinned as he ordered for both of them.
“Does Castlios International mean anything to you?”
Jake paused and gave Michael a curious look. “It’s one of my dad’s biggest clients. How do you think I spend my summers? I live to file that company’s paperwork.”
Michael blew a long breath. “Who owns it?”
“It was Vasilis Spyros Kakios Castlios. Like most famous Greeks, he’s dead. He was a very shrewd man and a guy you didn’t want to cross. The press used to say his name fit him because it meant king of evil spirits.”
How fitting.
Michael continued to fish. “Who owns the company now?”
“His son. His only son, I think. Richest kid in the world. What’s this about, bro?”
“Do you remember the son’s name?”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “No. Long name. You know how those Greeks are.”
“Do you know anything about the family?”
Jake gave him a sidelong glance. “I don’t know if I want to know where you’re going with this. There were a lot of rumors. Crazy stuff about violence, abuse, murder, attempted murder. Lots of weirdness in that family. Are you going to tell me what’s going on or make me guess? The suspense is killing me.”
Michael met Jake’s eyes before pulling a few of the articles about Christy from his pocket and smoothing them out on the counter before Jake. “My boyfriend is Christophoros Tryphon Alexis Castlios.”
Jake’s eyes bored into Michael for a long moment before he looked down at the paperwork.
Michael downed his lemonade and ordered another drink, this time half lemonade and half iced tea, as Jake read the first article and moved on to the next one. When Jake finally laid them on the counter and turned to Michael, Michael asked, “Do you remember what Christy’s e-mail address is?”
“Yeah, King at CTACI.”
“King at Christophoros Tryphon Alexis Castlios International.”
Rarely had Michael seen Jake rendered speechless.
“I didn’t believe it was him until I found that article from a year ago with his picture in it. I found thousands more articles about Christy. Everyone thought Christy died in a car accident fourteen years ago. Obviously, he didn’t, and his dad hid him, tortured him, abused him, and then tried to kill him. Some butler or something called the police because he thought Vasilis had killed Christy. That’s how they discovered he was alive.”
Jake began to say something, then shut his mouth. After a moment, he spoke. “That’s just sick. Why’d his dad try to kill him?”
“Don’t know. Some of the articles speculate that it was a… that someone got carried away with a sex act. I could only find crap like that.”
“Jesus, Michael.”
Michael nodded.
Jake began to say something, then paused before speaking again. “I don’t know what to say. Actually, I do. I’m pissed off as hell.”
“Why?”
“Because it means that my dad has known who he is all along.”
“That explains a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Like why Christy wasn’t afraid of your dad, like why your dad knew Christy spoke Greek, and the control.”
“What control?”
“How your dad could order more security, tell the security people what to do, and tell the detective where to shove it. He’s counsel for Castlios International and Christy’s counsel too.”
“You’re right. You’re 100 percent right. Why do you suppose Christy’s here in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York?”
“A couple of reasons. One, I think he’s hiding from the press. Some of the articles were downright sick. They talk about his abuse and torture as if nothing’s private. Police, hospitals, everyone leaked pictures and information like sieves. Some of the people who abused Christy, and there were a lot of them, actually talk about it as if it’s no big deal. Petros Sanna in particular. He all but brags about it in the news articles.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying, bro?”
“You remember I told you that Christy was branded with the initials of everyone who abused him on his thigh? His dad abused him and gave him to his business partners to abuse. Like, from the time he was young. Real young. One of his business partners was Petros Sanna. As best as I can tell from the articles, Petros then gave Christy to his son, Yosef, the whacked-out freak who’s here now.”
“God, that’s just sick.”
“It’s almost too sick to believe.”
“Oh shit. I should have put two and two together.”
“What?”
“I should have recognized the name Sanna.” Jake shook his head as he looked off into the distance. “Shit, Michael, this seriously complicates things. Petros Sanna’s son, Yosef, after Christy? Man, I think we have a problem.”
“Why?”
“My dad represents Petros Sanna. He’s a huge shipping tycoon. Sanna Shipping.”
“I read about that. The guy goes around acting like there’s nothing wrong with what he did to Christy.”
“Yeah, he probably does. He’s a freak. I think my dad’s refused to defend him on a couple cases involving minors.”
Michael issued a strangled growl in frustration. “The guy has done this to other kids?”
“Oh yeah. The guy’s a real piece of work.”
“Like father, like son,” Michael said bitterly.
“Oh man, poor Christy.”
“I know. Anyway, I think Christy’s here because he’s been hiding. Two, I think Castlios International either owns or supports Wellington Ranch. Three, I’m going to guess the doctor taking care of his neck and throat is here.”
“And his cousin on his mom’s side is here. Where’s his mom? Strike that. I already know. She’s dead.”
“She died in a car accident when he was five, the same accident Christy was supposed to have died in.” Michael sighed and shook his head in disgust. “That scar around his neck is a permanent reminder of everything his dad did to him.”
Jake looked as if he wanted to say something.
“Spit it.”
“The rumors are true.”
“I suppose it depends which rumor you’re talking about.”
Jake gave him a long, appraising look. “You going to tell him you know who he is?”
“No. He would have told me if he wanted me to know.”
“Man, Michael, with a history like that, I’d be hiding too.”
“No friggin’ kidding. I think Jason figured out who he is.”
Jake nodded and ran a hand over his face. “That’s probably where he got the idea that Christy was into kinky sex. From the damn rumors.”
“Yeah.”
Jake breathed deeply. “I’m going to call my dad. How do you want to handle this?”
“Why? Leave it business as usual. Leave it alone.”
“It sure as hell isn’t business as usual, Michael, I just asked Sophia Antoniou
Castlios
to marry me.”
It was Michael’s turn to rub his face. “Shit.”
“Yeah, shit, and you have to talk to Rob.”
“And say what?”
“That you know who he is. It’ll keep you on side with Rob, my dad as Christy’s counsel, security. Everyone will be more willing to share information with you if they know you’re cool with who he is.”
“Crap. I didn’t even think about Rob knowing who he is. Of course, he knows who he is. Man, I hate friggin’ secrets, and the idea of keeping secrets from someone I love is just… it’s all kinds of wrong.”