Colorado Game - 49. Chapter 49

CHAPTER *49*

"So...you're finally going up there to bring him home?" Mother asked me after I informed her of the trip up to Vancouver.

"And in no small part thanks to you, Mother," I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, even if I have to drag him back, kicking and screaming. He's coming back here, one way or the other. He's not allowed to say no."
I grinned confidently.

"Good. You've been moping around here for weeks; good lord, a funeral would've looked like a rave compared to the mood around here."

I gave her a tight smile; yeah, not one of my better moments. Then again, how would she feel when her heart had been ripped out of her chest, and stomped on by a gang of Hell's Angels?

But if it hadn't been for her, I'd probably still be trying to work myself to death. It had all started about two weeks after the breakup...

--== Begin flashback ==--

I came home a little after 11:30pm, exhausted, and went into the salon to pour myself a drink. A double. Downing half of it in one gulp and loosening my tie with a finger, I sighed deeply and sat down in the dark. All was quiet, for which I was thankful; I didn't want to deal with my mother right now.

Too late.

I started when suddenly a lamp came on at the far side of the salon, revealing my mother sitting on the sofa farthest from me.

"Good evening, Ross."

"Mother," I acknowledged, "what are you still doing up?"

"Waiting for you. There is something you need to see."

"Mother...," I warned.
I really wasn't in the mood.

I noticed a large envelope on the sofa beside her. She padded it with her hand. It looked familiar. Too familiar.

"I really don't feel like talking, right now... especially not about what I think you have there."
Definitely not.

"We all want things we can't have," she replied, putting some steel in her voice. "Come. Sit."
I sighed again, downed the rest of the drink, and joined her.

"Fine. What is it now?"

I knew I was being rude to her, but she didn't call me on it. Instead, she revealed a remote control for the video-recorder, starting it with the press of a button. The screen came to life, revealing an empty hallway and she paused the tape. I thought I'd seen it before.

"You know I have a... ‘friend' who helps me sometimes, to find out some things people do not want generally known, yes?"

She was referring to Jack Mahey, a private investigator. Why she felt the need to keep him on retainer I had no idea, and I probably didn't want to know. The circles of high society and its secrets didn't really interest me.

"Who slept with whom this time, Mother?"

"That's quite an appropriate choice of words, dear. It turns out; no one. Watch, please."

She started the video again. There was no sound, only picture. Suddenly some people walked into frame and the hairs in my neck rose immediately. Mark and Kyle.

"Before you start throwing a fit, bare with me. It gets interesting real fast."

I didn't want to watch. Seeing Mark for the first time again, even on a video with no sound, was too much. It immediately brought home that I missed him terribly. Seeing what followed really didn't help.

The screen showed them hugging and they were talking. Mark smiled while they hugged.

"I really don't apprecia...," I began, making a grab for the remote.

Then something happened. I could tell that Mark suddenly became uncomfortable, by his body language. He said something. Then Kyle moved to press his lips below his ear, while it was clear that Mark was trying to break out of the hug.

Even though it hurt a great deal to watch this, I couldn't rip my eyes away from the screen. Kyle's mouth traveled down his cheek towards his mouth, and he seemed to say something. Mark froze and said something, to which Kyle replied and then suddenly he moved in. I closed my eyes at that exact moment; I did not want to see it.

"Watch, Ross. I know it's painful, but just watch. You'll thank me for it in the end," Mother said softly, and I opened my eyes again.

At first, Mark didn't do anything.

If I wanted to continue dark thoughts about Mark, I'd have said he probably liked it. But I knew him. He didn't like this. His body was too rigid, I could tell; I knew every inch of it. Then the screen froze, right as Kyle opened his lips.

"I'm sorry to make you see this, but compare this image with this photo, please," mother said softly, holding out a black and white photo.

I knew the photo by heart, and was about to tell her I didn't want to see it, when I noticed the similarities between the photo and the video.

The angle was the same, as was the color, the shades, the light.

As I stared between the two, she continued the video. What had looked like Mark kissing him back was not what happened. Instead, Mark pulled back and said something, shaking his head. Kyle didn't back off, which somehow made me very angry; blood was rushing through my veins. He rested his forehead against Mark's and spoke, then tried again; this time Mark definitely tried to hold him off. Then Kyle obviously used more force, and pressed his hips noticeably forward, continuing to speak and trying to kiss him.

Then Mark spoke, obviously louder as if trying to get through to him, and suddenly Kyle backed off.

Half a minute later, Mark left, and Kyle appeared to think. But when he turned, I saw the coldest smirk I've ever seen on anyone, and he stared straight into the camera.

**********

"Turn it off," I rasped, after staring at the now empty screen for a long minute. "Please..."

Nothing had happened. It had all been an illusion, made to appear as something it wasn't, designed to make me jealous, and to break up Mark and me. And it had worked.

"Where did you find this?" I asked. "Are you sure it's real? Not tampered with?"

"If they tampered with it, don't you think some scenes would have looked quite differently?" Mother asked, softly. "I'm sure, Ross; it's real. He set you up, he set Mark up. He knew how you'd react and you did as if it was scripted."

I groaned softly.

"And Jack recovered it from Kyle's apartment."

"I'll kill him," I hissed, hot anger overwhelming me.

I rose from the sofa, intent on doing it right now. I was going to go over there and wring the life from that miserable horror of a human being!

"Ross..." mother called, "ROSS! Don't! Don't do something you'll regret later. He isn't worth it."

I bit my lower lip until I tasted blood, unable to keep my hands from balling into fists. Then, suddenly, I felt my mother's hand on my shoulder.

"Shh... come. Sit down. Have a drink. You need it."

I heard her walk over to the bar and pour; then she came back and handed me a glass with a bottom of whiskey.

"I need a lot more than that," I sighed, setting it on the table in front of me when I had emptied it in one gulp. "God, what a mess."
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, rubbing my eyes.
"What have I done..."

"What exactly did you do, son? In my opinion you didn't do anything any normal human being wouldn't do, when betrayed."

"But he didn't betray me..."

"Mark lied to you, Ross. Lying is also a betrayal. He deliberately lied when he said he wasn't friendly with Kyle anymore, knowing you wouldn't approve. I'm not trying to put the blame entirely on him; I'm trying to tell you that you're not the only one at fault here."

"I know," I sighed, "but Mark did try to tell me what happened and I didn't listen. And now it's too late."

"It's never too late, dear. Do you love him?"
I looked up, sending her a smile.

"To the point of insanity."

"Then go get him back."

"You think so? You think he'll want me back?"

"I know for a fact that he does."

"You kn... you spoke to him? When? Where?"

"About a week ago. At the loft."

"And he said he wanted..."
I needed to see him. Right now! I couldn't wait another moment, and went over to where I had draped my jacket over the back of a chair.

"I'm going to him, right now. Wish me luck."

"Well, that's going to be a bit of a problem."
I halted in mid-air, as I put my arms through the sleeves of the jacket.

"What... why?"

"Because he's gone. He’s left the country."

--== End Flashback ==--

I remember that moment as sobering; first feeling hope, and then having it snatched away again. But Mother quickly explained what had happened.

I really didn't want to wait; I wanted to see him, convince him to take me back and get past all this. But I couldn't, and it was aggravating to say the least. I opted to call Mark right away but Mother convinced me to take a different approach. In the meantime, she'd take care of Kyle.

Whatever she did, I'd probably never find out. I was told in no uncertain terms to back off; it was a project she'd been looking forward to for a long, long time, and that was all she would tell me. But I did remember a day, last week, when she came home with a very satisfied air around her, telling me Kyle was never, ever going to be a problem again.

"You didn't have him killed, did you?" I asked suspiciously, but with a smirk. Of course she wouldn't. Even Sofia Forester wouldn't go that far.

"Oh no. I just...taught him a lesson."

"Do I want to know?"

"Someday, perhaps. For now, just let your old mother appreciate the few
scraps in life she still gets to enjoy."

I shuddered involuntarily; no, I didn't want to know. Ever.