Kept Boy to Made Man - 6. Battlelines

“Was jail really bad? You didn’t get raped, did you?” Brendon had tried not to think about Thomas being in jail, but now that he knew his boyfriend was safe, he couldn’t help it.

Thomas snorted.

“You’re such a dork. No, I didn’t get raped.” Thomas felt happy for the first time in recent memory. “I was in jail, not prison. Besides, I’m a kid, so they kept me in a separate area mostly by myself. I only saw other prisoners a couple of times, and never in the shower.”

Despite his relief at realizing he hadn’t lost Brendon, thinking back over the past four months was sobering. He didn’t want to tell Brendon how scared he had been, but he thought about Roger’s deal. Honesty.

“Actually, Bren, it was really scary and lonely. Most of the guards were nice, but I was by myself almost all the time.” Thomas said softly. “You don’t realize how much you take for granted until everything gets taken away.”

Brendon could see and hear that his boyfriend had changed. Thomas was more serious and quieter. He decided he was probably different as well, and understood what Thomas meant about taking things for granted. Brendon groaned as he tried to sit up.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked worriedly.

Without responding, Brendon propped himself up on his elbows before slowly and painfully scooting his bruised body to the edge of the mattress. When he was as far over as he could go, the teen let his body relax once more.

“Climb in.” He hadn’t known when, or even if he would be able to see Thomas again; he wanted to make the most of the time they had together.

“Uh, Bren. Someone could just walk in, including your mom.” A part of their relationship had always been extreme secrecy.

With Thomas’ trial looming, Brendon had been forced to finally decide for himself who he was and what was most important to him.

He was Brendon Mack. He was gay, and Thomas Miller was his boyfriend. His parents and pastor were wrong. He couldn’t change, and he didn’t want to. Brendon had found peace and strength in his decision which changed how he saw both himself and the world around him.

“I don’t care, dude. What are they going to do, beat us up?” He was trying to funny, but neither laughed.

“You wouldn’t care if your mom walked in and saw us together in bed?” Thomas was surprised by Brendon’s new attitude; being discovered had always been his biggest fear.

“They fucking took you away, Thomas. I thought you were gone forever. Now get your ass in this bed and hold me.” Brendon wasn’t trying to be funny anymore. “Please, Tommy.”

Thomas couldn’t figure out how to lower the side rail on the bed. Despite the deep emotions they were both feeling, the teens were both giggling by the time he had successfully crawled over the bar and into the small bed. Brendon’s face hurt, but it felt good laugh.

“Ooo, careful with the ribs,” Brendon said as Thomas draped his arm across the teen’s body. “That’s a pretty fancy suit, by the way.”

“Roger had it made for the trial,” Thomas replied proudly; it was the nicest thing he had ever owned.

“That’s the guy who brought you here?” Brendon had wondered who the man was but had been too overwhelmed by Thomas’ unexpected presence to ask. “Wait, had it made, like some dude sewed it for you?”

“Yeah.” Thomas said as he smiled. “Roger is my lawyer… was my lawyer… I don’t know. Anyway, he’s been really amazing, Bren. Without him, I’d probably be on my way to some prison right now.” He realized he hadn’t thought about life in prison all day.

“Why? What do you mean?” Brendon asked.

“My first lawyer, Mr. Williams told me I would probably spend the rest of my life in prison. That’s what I thought was going to happen. For four months I thought about spending the rest of my life in prison. I thought my life was over, and I just sort of gave up.” Brendon could hear the echoes of despair as Thomas’ words faded into a whisper; He recognized and related to the feeling.

“There have been so many times that I wished your dad had killed me.” Brendon said quietly.

“Please don’t say that, Bren.” Thomas could hear that Brendon meant those words, and it scared him.

“It’s true. Mom and dad told me what we did was evil, and that I needed Jesus to fix me.” Brendon continued quietly. “For a while, I almost believed them. I almost believed there was something wrong with me…. with us.”

Thomas watched as his boyfriend started to cry softly. He leaned in and gently kissed Brendon’s bruised cheek.

“I’m so sorry.” Brendon’s tearful confession stirred Thomas’ recent memories.

“Why are you sorry, Bren?” He asked his boyfriend the same question Roger had asked him.

“I was going to lie to the judge, Tommy! They wanted me to tell everyone I wasn’t gay, and that you made me do things I didn’t want to do!” The volume of his words steadily rose. “I almost betrayed you, Thomas!”

“But you didn’t, Bren. You stood up to your parents. That’s something you’ve never done before. I have the best boyfriend in the whole world.” Thomas kissed Brendon’s cheek again, before gently and playfully nibbling his earlobe.

He would have continued, but they were both startled by a knock on the door. Thomas’ reflex was to scramble out of the bed, but after a heartbeat he thought of Brendon’s words. I don’t care.

The door opened and a nurse entered as she read from a clipboard. She stopped dead when she looked up and saw the two teens side by side with Thomas’ arm still draped over Brendon’s body. Thomas swallowed his fear and shame before offering her a smile.

. . .

Roger and Sandra worked their way back up to the sixth floor carrying a bag filled with various snacks and drinks. They were both exhausted but encouraged by the emotional and honest conversation they had shared in the basement. It would have been unlikely for the two of them to ever become allies, let alone friends, but they shared a common need to love and protect Thomas and Brendon. Each saw something that they lacked in the other.

As they stepped off the elevator, they saw a nurse knock before entering Brendon’s room. They were still five rooms away when her words rang out.

“What is going on here?” The nurse asked hotly.

The adults looked at each other and then back at the door to room 619. They hurried forward, uncertain of what the woman had found. They reached the room and were about to enter, when Thomas’ voice caused Roger to pause. He stopped Sandra with a hand on her shoulder earning him a matronly glare that he hadn’t seen directed at him since his teenage years.

“I’m catching up with my boyfriend ma’am. We haven’t seen each other in quite a while.” Thomas’ tone was upbeat and confident, but Roger’s trained ear could hear the underlying tension clearly.

They stood just outside the room. Roger put a finger to his lips which caused Sandra’s consternation to grow, but she nodded. The lawyer was curious to see how the boys handled the situation but remained poised to intervene if needed.

“Well, you need to get out of that bed immediately. It is highly inappropriate.” The nurse sputtered.

Seeing Brendon again, being with him in such an intimate way was both familiar and extraordinary. Thomas had spent months allowing is hope of a happy future to fade and had resigned himself to a lonely life of misery.

Brendon’s bold declaration of acceptance for both their shared orientation and love had rekindled and stoked a passion, almost a desperation in Thomas. He was still frightened, but rather than cower, he felt the desire to fight once more.

With his father, the battle had been physical, but this woman was verbally attacking them. Fortunately, Thomas had seen how to defend and attack with words.

Roger saw a subtle shift as Thomas adopted a new persona. It didn’t quite fit him, looking somewhat unnatural, but Roger was impressed none the less.

“What do you find inappropriate about two abused teenage boys providing much needed support and comfort to one another, ma’am?” Thomas had seen how Roger used questions; They put people on the defensive and forced them to reveal their thoughts.

“We do not allow people to be in bed with our patients.” She stated authoritatively, although it was obvious by her disgusted expression and disdainful tone that she was not only concerned with the rules.

“And if I was a girl comforting my bruised and battered boyfriend, would that be allowed?” Thomas tried he best to imitate Roger Cicero on cross.

“Well, it would still be frowned on, but that at least would be appropriate.” The nurse moved further into the room, but her original bluster faltered as she once again saw Brendon’s ruined face.

“Did you know that homosexuality has been legal in Illinois since 1962?” Thomas parroted.

“That’s ridiculous. Now get out of that be before I call security.” Roger stepped into the room where the boys could see him; He nodded encouragingly for Thomas to continue.

Thomas grinned, partly because he relished Roger’s unexpected approval and partly from the relief he felt knowing the man was there to protect them. The nurse frowned when she saw what she deemed an inappropriate reaction to her demand. The boys saw her anger rising once more. Normally Thomas would have been frightened by the emotion, but he was in character; rather than danger, he smelled blood.

“Have you heard of the Human Rights Ordinance that was passed four years ago here in Chicago? It makes it illegal to discriminate against gay boys like us.” Thomas tried to put a little challenge into his tone before leaning into Brendon slowly and deliberately to plant a chaste kiss on Brendon’s swollen cheek.

“That’s it, I am going for security!” The woman turned and practically ran into Roger Cicero, who was wearing his own courtroom persona which didn’t look unnatural on him in any way.

“The young man is quite correct, Ms… Nancy R. You clearly have different standards for heterosexual and homosexual couples, which is considered a human rights violation. When you call security, please also call your legal department. We’d hate for them to be surprised by a discrimination lawsuit.” Roger’s gaze was hard and penetrating.

After a second, the nurse dropped her eyes.

“I need to check the patient’s vitals, and then I’ll leave you to your visit.” She suddenly seemed authentically contrite, and Roger wondered if perhaps her response to the boys was more learned than a deeply held bias; regardless, Thomas had had clearly won.

. . .

Detective Juan Ramos had missed this. Real investigation work. After returning from Iraq and leaving active duty, his four years of experience with the Marines as a Military Police investigator had all but guaranteed him a job with the Chicago Police Department.

The Force and Corps were proving to be very different, however. Juan hadn’t climbed the CPD ranks like his peers, and they resented and distrusted him as a result. Even his Chief seemed intent to keep him largely on the bench, only assigning the most insignificant tasks and cases to him.

He had been at the courthouse representing the department in a minor drug case. He hadn’t really been needed, but his boss had insisted he waste the day being available. He had been rescued by the lovely Melissa Motts as she practically dragged him into the third-floor conference room.

Detective Ramos had immediately liked Roger Cicero. The man knew how to cut through the bureaucratic bullshit in a way that reminded him of his former CO. Thanks to the attorney and the DA, who had called his Chief personally to request his involvement, Juan was finally the lead investigator on a case.

Juan had also connected with the kid. They had both grown up in single family homes, and he knew how hard that environment could be. The boy’s dad couldn’t handle it, which made him even more grateful for his mother, whom he adored. Maybe Elijah Miller was just an evil asshole, but after watching his older brother come unglued on the stand, Juan found himself feeling a small amount of sorrow for the man; Not that he would ever forgive him for putting fists on his kid.

He glanced at the overly heavy man still working on the high-tech door lock.

“Are we close?” He asked.

“Yeah, but this thing is a bitch. It’s a good thing you didn’t try to shove your way through, though. The door and doorframe are re-enforced steel under the wood trim and veneer.” The tech nerd had been doing God only knew what for almost ten minutes; Juan was anxious to get into the locked room.

Being in the house made him feel slightly ill. He’d caught most of Thomas’ testimony after sending his Uncle Charlie to the station for booking. Juan needed a judge to sign the warrant, and decided Chris O’Malley was his best bet. He had been surprised to find the large red-headed Irishman in his chambers in tears after the trial. The man barely read the form before signing it.

So far, they hadn’t found anything incriminating beyond questionable housekeeping and too many to go containers for one man living alone. The crime scene unit was still photographing and dusting everything, but Juan was almost certain their efforts were pointless. Uncle Charlie hadn’t been asked to babysit his maturing Nephew for several years so the likelihood of finding anything incriminating was low

He heard an audible click and looked toward the last unexplored space in the small house. Thomas had described the large bedroom he would find behind the ominous, disguised vault door. If there was still any physical evidence of molestation, it would be in that room.

The tech stepped back from the door.

“After you, detective,” he said as he started packing up his gear.

Juan’s gloved hand turned the knob. He pushed the door open, feeling both excitement and dread.

“What the fuck?” He said softly as the large room behind the heavy door came into view.

The detective moved slowly forward. In the center of the far wall was a bed, but Juan could see that the room was no longer used as a spare bedroom. He stepped aside as several forensic technicians filed in behind him.

“Photograph everything!” Juan growled through roiling emotions.

Several camcorders and cameras, mounted on tripods were pointing at the bed from various angles. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Cords and cables from a variety of photography lights crisscrossed the floor. The room looked very different than Thomas had described it, but he hadn’t been to his uncle’s house in several years.

He followed one of the techs to the closet on the right side of the room. He slowly pulled the sliding bi-fold doors open. There was a cheap chipboard bookshelf tucked into the back of the small storage space. It was lined with VHS tapes and hard-sided binders. Each had a handwritten number in marker on the spine. Clothing hung on hangers from the metal rod. Juan couldn’t identify many of the items by sight, but it was clear that few of them would be found in the typical American closet. He growled as he noticed their small sizes.

Once several photos hand been taken, he carefully removed a binder from the shelf. He didn’t want to, but he had to be sure. He inhaled deeply, holding the breath for several seconds. The detective allowed what was clearly a photo album fall open to a random place.

“¡Chingada madre!” Juan swore, as he quickly closed and returned the book.

“Detective?” The tech asked with dread clear in her tone.

“This case just blew up, people. I want every print, every hair, every fucking stain analyzed! Get the lab to do all that fancy DNA shit. And tear the house apart again!” He couldn’t wait to get Charles Miller alone in an interrogation room; First Sergeant Juan Ramos, CID Agent, USMC was once again ready for war.

. . .

Thomas Miller had dismantled Roger Cicero’s impenetrable walls. Melissa had watched her boss break free over the past several days, and she had done everything in her power to help. Watching him connect with his young client had given her hope that maybe she could also find freedom, not from Eddie but from her sister.

Melissa didn’t remember getting out of the car. She didn’t know where she found the strength to push the call button. The thin, blond woman stood nervously at the entryway to a life she had been banished from. She desperately wanted to be let back in, even if only for a moment.

She waited a full minute. Melissa fought the urge to turn and run away. She wondered if she should press the button again. Her indecision came to an end as the door in front of her swung inward. Rebecca Renkin’s face showed her surprise.

“Melissa.” It wasn’t a question or a greeting.

“Hey Becca,” Melissa nervously clutched the small, gift-wrapped book that had been in her car for almost three years to her chest like a shield.

“Where’s Peggie?” There was no love in her tone.

“Who?” Melissa was caught off guard as she tried to figure out who her sister was referring to.

“Your Friend?” Rebecca said.

“You mean Penny,” Melissa said quietly. “We broke up… Over seven years ago.”

Penny was the reason Melissa had no family. They had been in love, or so she thought. The relationship had cost her everything.

“What are you doing here, Melissa. You know I don’t want you near the kids.” Plural, Melissa thought. She was an aunt again, and Becca hadn’t bothered to tell her.

“I brought a birthday present for Mary. It’s a book that I loved when I was her age. I want her to have it.” Tears began to fall down Melissa’s face as she thought of her niece.

Rebecca watched her sister cry for several seconds. She had been close to her older sister once. Somewhere deep in her soul she still loved her, but the girl she had looked up to had become something she couldn’t abide. Melissa’s sadness touched her, however.

“Ten minutes, Mel. We’re getting ready to go out.” Rebecca stepped aside as her older sister entered her home for the first time in eight years.

. . .

Melissa couldn’t believe how much her niece had changed. She was only two the last time she had seen her. The beautiful little blond girl carefully unwrapped the small gift from the aunt she didn’t remember. The book was old and well-loved. Melissa had read it countless times throughout her life; it had always been her favorite.

“Thank you for book Aunt Mel! I love to read,” Mary said excitedly.

She was so genuine. It hurt Melissa greatly to love her so much but know they would never be allowed to be close.

“It’s called The Secret Garden,” Melissa told her. “It’s about another little girl named Mary. It has always been my favorite book, and now it reminds me of my favorite niece.”

“I am going to start reading it tonight!” The girl said as she hugged Melissa tightly.

The moment was interrupted by a high-pitched squeal and the sound of tiny bare feet running across hard wood. Melissa looked up in time to see a bright white blur fly past the sitting room door.

“Joshua James Renkin!” Rebecca scolded loudly.

Seconds later, a very small and very naked boy sheepishly entered the room. He was dragging and equally naked doll by the hair. A middle-aged Hispanic woman entered behind him. She had a large smile on her face, which faded as she saw the scowl on Rebecca’s face.

“Rosa, why isn’t Joshua dressed? We are leaving in a few minutes.” Melissa was shocked at the tone her sister took with the woman.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Renkin. I turned to get a diaper and off he went. He is so much like my Juan was at his age. I spent years chasing his cute little butt around as well.” The older woman’s voice was full of love.

“Who’s that?” Little Joshua asked as he pointed at Melissa.

“Hello, Joshua. I am your Aunt Mel. I’m so happy to meet you!” There were tears in Melissa’s eyes again.

The boy toddled across the room to stand in front of Melissa. He let his toy drop as he raised his arms and said, “up.”

Before Rebecca could intervene, Melissa had scooped him up in her arms. She hugged him tightly and whispered in his tiny ear.

“I love you, Joshua James. I love you so much.” The hug was interrupted as Rebecca took the boy and carried him back to the woman named Rosa.

Melissa picked up the doll and followed.

“You forgot your friend, Joshua,” she said as she held out the toy.

Rebecca snatched it even as the boy reached out his small hands.

“Mary, I’ve asked you to keep your toys in your room,” she said in obvious frustration.

“That’s Penny. Joshy loves her, so I said he could keep her,” the girl said sweetly.

The sisters both winced at the name the girl had given the doll. Rebecca’s tone was cold when she responded.

“That’s very kind of you, but that is not an appropriate toy for your brother. Now say goodbye to your aunt. It’s time she was leaving.”

. . .

“Would you really have sued the hospital?” Thomas asked, causing Roger to laugh as he drove.

“No. I’m certain they have some sort of documented policy against anyone being in a hospital bed with an admitted patient. The fact that nurse Nancy looks the other way in some cases and not others is discriminatory, but your being in the bed was still against the rules.” Roger explained.

“But you didn’t tell her that.” Thomas observed.

“No. I did not. I was very impressed by both your memory and your composure, Thomas.” Roger noticed as the teen sat up a bit straighter and grinned at the simple praise.

“I listened to everything that happened today. I don’t know how you know what to say and how to say it, but I want to learn!” Roger had not heard Thomas so positive about anything since they had met.

“You can be a better lawyer than I ever was or will be if you put your mind to it. Of that, I have no doubt.” Roger Cicero said.

. . .

He dropped his keys in the bowl on the small table by the door, slipping off his dress shoes next. Thomas copied him. Together they moved further into the condo, Roger flipping light switches as they went.

Thomas dropped several Macys bags and a fresh Giordano’s pizza on the granite-topped island as he scanned his new home. It was unlike any place he had ever been. He found it almost unfathomable in comparison to the small cell he had been living in for the past four months. The teen walked slowly across the open living space to the wall of windows that looked out over Lake Michigan. As he neared the glass, the teen made the mistake of looking down.

“Oh, shit!” He said as he quickly took a few steps back.

They were twelve stories up. Thomas heard Roger snicker and turned around. The man had removed his jacket and tie. Thomas realized Roger was even more handsome when he wasn’t dressed for battle. He reached up to remove his tie as well.

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour, and then we can see if Giordano’s was worth the wait.” Roger retrieved the things they had purchased on the way home from the island where Thomas had dropped them.

“This is my room.” Thomas popped his head into Roger’s master suite and noticed that while nice, there wasn’t anything in it that felt personal.

“It looks like a fancy hotel.” He observed.

“You’re right, it does. I’ve never really moved in I guess.” Roger spent a few seconds thinking about Thomas’ revelation before opening the door opposite his own and handing the bags back to the teenager. “This is your room. It’s pretty much like mine, but with even less stuff. We’ll work on that. You have your own closet and bathroom as well.”

“Wow, this room is almost as big as the whole upstairs of my dad’s house.” Thomas stopped moving as soon as he realized what he had said.

“It’s okay, Thomas. It’s going to take some time. It was your home, and he was your family. Nothing can change that. If it helps, that life is what made you who you are. You’re a special young man, in part because of your past. We don’t have to run from the past or pretend it never happened.” Roger placed his hand on the teen’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as his words sunk into both of their hearts.

“Can I change?” Thomas asked shyly, which caused Roger to pause.

“Thomas, listen to me. It’s important to me that you understand. This is your home for as long as you want to stay. You don’t need my permission to do what you want. You are your own man.

“The bedroom door has a lock, and you are free to use it. I will get you keys to the condo in the morning and access to your money as well. You can buy a car of your own if you’d like to and go where you want, when you want. If you’d prefer, I’ll help you look for a place of your own. Do you understand?” Roger asked calmy.

Thomas didn’t respond in words, but again launched himself at the older man. They held the embrace for several seconds before pulling away.

“I’m going to change, and then I am going to eat a slice of pizza before I crash. What are you going to do?” Roger watched as a grin spread across Thomas’ face.

“Would it be okay if I-” Thomas began.

“Objection! Counsel thinks he’s so funny, your honor.” Roger grinned as well but Thomas grew suddenly serious.

“I’m going to take a shit with the door closed… And then take a really hot shower, without anybody watching. I am going to put on fresh boxers that actually belong to me, followed by clothes that are not orange or stiff and scratchy. Then I am going to join you for a giant slice of pizza and a coke. After that, I don’t know, but I’m sure it will be amazing.” The teen’s eyes had filled with tears of relief and joy.

“That sounds like a great plan, Thomas. A really great plan.”