Date: Sat, 2 Aug 2008 12:47:26 +0100
From: Gymnopedies <gym@softhome.net>
Subject: My Girlfriend's Brother 5

Copyright of this story is retained by the author and it should not be
reposted to any newsgroup or website without permission. Any form of
commercial use is strictly prohibited without the express permission of the
author. The author can be contacted at gym@softhome.net

The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by location,
are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by explicit
descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not based on any
actual events.


My Girlfriend's Brother - Chapter 5 (of 6)
by
Gymnopedies


Over the next few days, Jez continued to come round every day. He was
always there waiting for me when I arrived home from work and, strangely, I
felt myself actively looking forward to the time that we spent together. I
knew he still had a bit of a crush on me, but he was always careful to try
to keep this hidden, and I no longer felt threatened by my own feelings
towards him. I'd placed him firmly into the "little brother" role. Since
it's OK to care about your younger brother, it allowed me to accept that it
was OK for me to have a certain amount of affection for Jez.

The only real fly in the ointment was Jez's continued insistence that Emma
was no good for me. He rarely missed a chance to take a dig at her, and he
was especially upset by the fact that she would be moving in this coming
weekend. I'd tried to reassure him that it wouldn't make any difference to
him and me, and that he would still be able to keep coming round whenever
he liked, but this didn't seem to convince him.

One thing that hadn't gone down well with me was a call from Emma telling
me that she wouldn't be able to see me at all this week. Not until the
weekend. She said something about exams at school and that she needed to
prepare for them, and I had no choice but to reluctantly accept this
news. The plan now was that we'd go out as usual on Saturday. Then, on
Sunday, it was her eighteenth birthday, and there was a big party planned
with all her friends to help her celebrate. I wasn't especially looking
forward to the party, but knowing that she'd agreed to move in with me on
Monday would help me get through it.

The week seemed to fly by and, almost before I knew what was happening, it
was Thursday. This was a day that I definitely had been looking forward to.

Jez was there waiting for me, as normal, when I arrived home, and we went
up to the apartment together. I watched him drop his school bag in the
kitchen, as he normally did. Then he froze as he saw what was on the
kitchen table. He flashed me a sudden, surprised and delighted smile, and
then turned his attention back to the card and small, wrapped parcel that
sat on the table top.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"You told me a little while ago that it was your birthday three days before
Emma's. Since Emma constantly reminds me that it's her birthday on Sunday,
I figured it must be yours today. I was hoping I'd got it right, because
you've never mentioned it except for that one time. Go ahead, they're for
you, so get them opened."

Cautiously, as if afraid that it would bite him, Jez reached for the
card. He carefully opened the envelope and pulled the card out.

I found I was holding my breath. I'd spent almost an entire lunch hour in
the card shop trying to choose the right card, vacillating between whether
to get a joke one or a cute one. In the end I'd acted on impulse and got
one with a cuddly bear on the front and the words "To my very special
friend". This now seemed a bit over soppy and I was wishing I'd gone for
the joke one instead.

As Jez looked at the card, he gave a broad grin. His hands were shaking as
he opened it. He glanced at what I'd written inside and then read it
aloud. "To Jez, my number-one boy. Happy sixteenth birthday. Love from
Liam." He looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears.

"Hey, it's only a silly card," I told him, a little embarrassed by his
emotional reaction. "Go ahead and open your present."

He carefully stood the card on the table and picked up the parcel, pulling
at the wrapping paper. His eyes widened as the paper came away. "Oh, wow,"
he murmured. "Thanks Liam." It was an mp3 player, identical to my own. I'd
let him use mine sometimes while he sat and did his schoolwork. It was a
pretty good one with lots of memory and so hadn't been cheap, but I had a
friend in the business who could get them for me at cost price so it wasn't
too bad. Besides, the look on Jez's face made it worth every penny.

"I thought it would be nice if you had one of your own," I told him. "I
know you don't have a computer at home, but you're here almost every day,
so you can use my computer to load stuff into it."

"It's brilliant. It's the best thing ever." His arms went around me in a
hug, and I hugged him back, being careful not to squeeze his ribs, which I
knew were still sore.

"I'm glad you like it," I said. "We can take it through into the lounge and
get some tracks loaded onto it. But first I have one more surprise for
you."

"Something else?"

"Yep." I untangled myself from his arms and went over to the fridge. Jez
gave a delighted laugh as he watched me take out a small cake, complete
with birthday candles, and a half bottle of champagne. "Got to do things
properly," I said.

I put the cake onto the table and then quickly lit all the candles. "OK,
now blow them out and make a wish."

He did, his eyes shining.

All this fuss was perhaps a little bit childish, but Jez was obviously
loving it, and if I were to be honest, so was I.

The cork came out of the champagne bottle with a loud pop and I poured two
glasses. "Happy birthday, Jez," I said raising one of the glasses.

"Thanks, Liam," Jez grinned, and, glass in hand, he hugged me again.

We spent the rest of the evening selecting mp3 tracks and loading them onto
Jez's new player, between times eating slices of cake and finishing off the
champagne. Jez appeared happier than I had ever seen him and this in turn
gave me a thrill of pleasure. At last though, it was time for him to go.

"I wish it were me moving in instead of Emma," he said, sadly, as we made
our way down to the car.

"You're here so often it's almost like you live here already," I pointed
out.

He went quiet for a moment, then turned and looked at me. "If anything
happens between you and Emma, the two of us can still be friends, can't we?
It will still be alright for me to keep coming round?"

I laughed. "Nothings going to happen. Besides, even if it did, why should
it make any difference to me and you?"

He appeared at least partially satisfied, but he continued to look at
me. "There are things about Emma that you should know," he said.

"Jez, stop it, please. I don't want to hear it. I know you don't get on
with Emma, so let's just not talk about her, OK?"

"I wish you'd listen to me," he said, sulkily.

"Jez, that's enough."

He went quiet. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice very soft. "I love you
Liam. You're my best friend ever, and today has been my best birthday
ever. There were tears on his face as he hugged me and I realised I had
tears in my own eyes.

"I'm glad you enjoyed today," I told him, trying to keep my voice
steady. "Come on, get in the car and let's get you home."




Jez was uncharacteristically quiet on Friday evening. He obviously had
something on his mind and I had a good idea what it was.

"You're worrying over nothing," I told the boy, as we finished our meal,
during which he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words. "I've told you
that Emma moving in won't make any difference to you coming round. She can
go off and do some of the things that girls do, while the two of us spend
some time together." I didn't expect for one minute that the situation
would lend itself to such an easy solution, and I was prepared for some
protests from Emma when I told her that her brother would be here
sometimes. But she was just going to have to get used to the idea.

Jez looked at me, his eyes clouded. "I need to talk to you about Emma," he
said.

I sighed. "Please, Jez. I'm trying to sort things out so that everyone is
happy. You're going to have to give a little. You've got to accept that
Emma and I are going to be together. I'm sure that if you both made a bit
of an effort, you could get along instead of constantly fighting all the
time."

"Why won't you ever listen to me?" Jez demanded, shaking his head. "Emma
doesn't care about you; she never has. She's just using you."

"I've heard all of this before, Jez, and I'm sick of hearing it. Emma is
moving in with me on Monday and you can either learn to live with that or
you can stay away." I was getting annoyed and my mouth was moving faster
than my brain. That last bit had come out much harsher than I'd intended.

Jez looked hurt but defiant. "She's not moving in," he said.

I gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, and you're going to stop her, are you?"

"She's not moving in," Jez repeated. "She never intended to move in."

"What are you talking about?"

"She only agreed to move in with you to keep you happy, until after her
birthday. As soon as you've given her those diamond things for her ears,
she's going to dump you."

"What, just like that?" I gave him an incredulous look. "Yeah sure. She's
going to dump me. You really need to grow up, Jez."

"Maybe not just like that," Jez admitted. "She might string it out for a
few days, making excuses why she won't move in with you, but once she gets
her present, you're going to get dumped."

"Oh, and I suppose she told you this."

"No. I heard her and Mum talking. They cooked it up between them. Emma
didn't even want to get back with you after that last bust-up you had, but
Mum talked her into it. Mum said that since you had plenty of money, Emma
might as well stick with you until after her birthday."

"You're just talking stupid."

"Am I? Why do you think she refused to move in with you until after her
birthday?"

"It was because... well, I don't know. Why should it matter?"

"You're not listening to me, Liam." Jez was getting more agitated and was
clearly upset. "She's going to hurt you. I don't want to see you hurt. I
care about you even if she doesn't."

"It's not Emma who's trying to hurt me, it's you." I replied, heatedly. Jez
wasn't the only one getting upset by this exchange. "You can't accept that
it's Emma that I'm interested in and not you. I'm straight, Jez, not gay,
straight. I've tried to be nice to you and be your friend, but that's not
good enough for you and you keep throwing it back in my face. Maybe it's
time you stopped coming round here."

"OK, so you're straight," Jez said, getting to his feet, his eyes full of
tears. "But that doesn't change the fact that Emma is going to hurt
you. She's already seeing someone else. That's where she was last Friday
when she said she was going out with friends. That's why she said she
couldn't see you this week."

"I've heard enough of this," I snarled, now standing up myself. "You'd
better go."

"Please listen, Liam," Jez sobbed. "It's Emma you should be mad with, not
me. That's why I didn't say anything before; I knew you'd take her
side. But she's going to hurt you and I don't want that to happen."

"Get out," I snapped, holding the kitchen door for him.

Jez passed me, the tears rolling down his cheeks. The guilt I felt at
seeing him like this only went to further fuel my anger.

"You don't know what Emma and Mum are like. They're not bothered who they
hurt as long as they get what they want," said Jez as I opened the door to
the apartment. He stopped and looked at me, determinedly. "Who do you think
did this?" he asked through clenched teeth, pointing to the marks on his
face. "Who do you think did this?" He lifted his shirt and pointed to his
bruised ribs.

I looked at him incredulously. "You expect me to believe that your own
mother did that to you?" I gave a bitter laugh. "You really have lost it,
Jez. Just go. And please, stay away from now on." I put my hand on his
chest and pushed him backwards through the doorway and then closed the door
in his face.

I was badly shaken by this unexpected confrontation. I'd known that Jez
didn't like Emma, but I'd had no idea that he would carry his vendetta
against her this far. Did he really think I would be stupid enough to
believe all those lies? I went into the lounge and poured myself a drink of
something strong, trying to stop my hands from shaking. Emma had been right
about him when she'd said her brother was weird. How did I ever come to get
so involved with someone like that?

I moved over to the sofa and sat down, tipping my head back and closing my
eyes as I took deep breaths to try to calm myself. Emma would never do
anything like Jez had described, that much I was sure of. Sure, she was no
angel, and she'd done the rounds before we got together, but since then
she'd been completely faithful to me. If she'd been with anyone else I
would have known about it; I would have been able to tell. Besides, you
can't keep anything like that a secret for long; someone would have said
something to me. Yes, I was sure of it. Someone would have told me. Or at
least I hoped they would have told me. I knew that Emma flirted with a lot
of guys, but that was just Emma. There was never anything in her flirting,
it was all just for fun. She'd never take it further than that.

My mind whirled on, spinning out of control, as I kept telling myself that
there could not possibly be anything in Jez's wild accusations. True, they
would have been quite convincing to anyone who didn't know Emma like I
did. Maybe Jez even believed them himself. Maybe he had repeated the story
over and over to himself until it had become credible. Yes, I suppose it
was credible. Except that Emma would never do that to me.

But deep down in my heart, I knew how wrong that was. Emma was quite
capable of doing that. Slowly, feeling steadily more sick, I allowed myself
to consider the possibility that some of what Jez had said may have been
true. Suppose she did have someone else? There had been plenty of weak
excuses about why she couldn't be with me. And what had been her real
reason for refusing to move in with me before her birthday? "To make it
more special?" What sort of a reason was that? Could she really have
someone else? I had to know. I had to find out for sure one way or the
other. But how was I to find out? I could hardly ask Emma. I mulled over
the problem for a while, sipping on the neat whiskey in my glass, letting
the heat from the alcohol calm my nerves. And then the answer hit me.

Dino. No one collected gossip like Dino. He always knew every sordid detail
about who was cheating on who. If anyone knew about Emma playing away, it
would be Dino.

With trembling hands, I flipped through my address book and found Dino's
mobile number. I dialled.

"Dino Di Molto." Dino's familiar effeminate tones came through the
receiver.

"Dino, it's Liam."

"Oh, hi handsome. Surely you're not ready yet for me to work my magic on
your beautiful locks. Or maybe that cute little boyfriend of yours wants to
see me again?"

"Dino, I need a favour."

"Ooh, how could I refuse? Ask away."

"I want to know if Emma has been seeing anyone behind my back."

The sudden silence coming through the phone told me all I needed to know. I
felt molten lead settle in my stomach.

When Dino spoke, he sounded strangely masculine; all the effeminate
inflections were gone from his voice. "I'm sorry, Liam. I always told you
she was no good."

"How long has it been going on?" I asked.

There was a sigh. "As far as I know, she's never stopped seeing other guys.

"Who? Give me names."

"You sure you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

"Recently there has been Dave Morris and Dan Greenwall. I think it's Dan
she's on with at the moment."

I ground my teeth in helpless fury and frustration. I didn't know anyone
called Dave Morris, but Dan was in our immediate circle of friends; he'd
been one of the friends we'd met at the bar the previous Saturday. I felt
like a complete fool. "Thank's, Dino," I managed to get out.

"I'm really sorry, Liam. You're well rid of her. You going to be OK?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks again, Dino."

"No problem, Liam. You take care."

I turned off the phone and felt it slip through my fingers onto the
floor. I had been so stupid. Why had she done this to me? I'd always been
there for her. I'd given her everything she'd asked for. Why? I felt a
burning rage building in my stomach, ready to explode but with nowhere to
go. "Why?" I screamed out, to the empty room. An overwhelming wave of
self-pity washed over me. I sank to my knees. My back against the wall, I
put my face in my hands and I began to cry.




I don't recall very much of what happened after that, except that I hit the
bottle pretty hard. I do remember ringing Emma at some point and telling
her in no uncertain terms what I thought about her. The conversation
quickly turned into a screaming match over the telephone and I called her a
"stupid bitch" and turned off the phone and flung it across the room. I
then drank some more and somehow made it to my bed, where I passed out.

I awoke on Saturday morning, sprawled across my bed, still fully dressed,
and feeling like death. Just raising my head was enough to cause nausea to
wash over me in waves and I had to literally crawl to the bathroom. I used
the sink to slowly pull myself to my feet and I looked at myself in the
bathroom mirror. I even looked like death. This analysis of my appearance
was interrupted by an extra powerful attack of nausea and I dropped to my
knees, my head over the toilet bowl. It was several minutes before I felt
able to let go of the toilet bowl and once more pull myself up to the sink
to splash cold water over my face. God, I felt rough. With an effort, I
pulled off my clothes and turned on the shower, making the water as hot as
I thought I would be able to stand it, and then I climbed into the bath,
where I lay letting the scalding water splash down over my body.

Eventually I plucked up the courage to pull myself out of the bath and,
wrapping a towel around my waist, I managed to get into the kitchen. I
poured myself a glass of juice, restricting myself to small sips. I knew it
would be a while yet before I was ready to face life.

Work was definitely out of the question. I normally work for a few hours on
Saturday afternoons, but today I had no choice but to call in sick. Hell, I
was sick, quite literally.

As the hours passed, I started to feel a little bit more
human. Unfortunately, as the physical discomfort eased, the emotional pain
of the previous day was quick to take its place. I was angry. More angry
than I had ever been before. I realised now that I didn't love Emma; I
never had. But she'd made a fool of me, and that hurt. I'd clearly meant
nothing at all to her. I'd just been someone for her to use and throw
away. How could anyone possibly be that callous? Jez had tried to warn
me. He'd told me time and again what she was like, but I'd refused to
listen to him. But if he knew what was going on, he should have made me
listen; he should have tried harder. Part of this was his fault. I was well
rid of the two of them.

By mid afternoon, I was starting to feel a little bit better and I gave
myself a shave and a proper tidy up and pulled on some clothes. I was
starting to feel almost human. I didn't yet feel ready to face the world,
but at least I was making progress. I realised I hadn't eaten anything
since the previous evening and decided that getting some food inside me
might make me feel better. Looking in the fridge, I came across the plate
containing a small piece of Jez's birthday cake. An image flashed into my
mind of Jez, laughing happily as he'd blown out the candles on his cake and
then closing his eyes to make a wish. I felt a sudden painful pang of
regret that this business with Emma had caused me to lose Jez as
well. Ignoring the lump in my throat, I forced myself to cross the kitchen
and tip the remaining cake into the bin. I discovered that I'd lost
whatever appetite I'd had. I wasn't hungry after all.

Listlessly, I wandered around the apartment. To pass the time, I tried
listening to music and watching TV, but I really wasn't in the mood for
anything, and for some reason, everything I did reminded me of Jez. Even
when I tried to lose myself in something mundane, like cleaning, I recalled
the time two weeks previously, when Jez had insisted on helping me with the
job. It was hard to believe that it was only two weeks since I'd found him
lying semi-conscious in the park, stinking of his own piss and vomit. I'd
brought him back and cleaned him up and bedded him down for the night in my
own bedroom, never realising that over the next two weeks he would become
such an integral part of almost every aspect of my life. I knew now that in
those two weeks, Jez had come to mean much more to me than Emma ever
had. Emma had been great in bed, but beyond that, she had been nothing. Jez
had been so much more. I felt my stomach tighten as I remembered some of
the things I'd said to the boy as I'd pushed him out of the door the
previous evening. I'd told him to keep away. I'd laughed at him. Yet
everything he'd said had turned out to be true. I played through what I
could recall of that conversation. It hurt, but I felt the need to punish
myself both for my own stupidity and for the way I'd treated the boy. He'd
said that he loved me, and somehow I knew that he'd meant it. But how did I
feel about him? I really didn't know. I did know that picturing him in my
mind caused my stomach to knot up, and the thought of not seeing him again
made me feel sick.

Almost before I realised what I was doing, I hunted down the phone from
where I'd thrown it the previous evening. Luckily it didn't appear
damaged. If I could just talk to Jez and tell him that I was sorry... I
dialled the number.

"Hello?" It was Janice, Emma's mother.

"Janice, it's Liam."

"Oh. What do YOU want?" There was ice in her words and I couldn't help but
picture the sneer on her face.

"I want to speak to Jez."

She gave a cold laugh. "Why doesn't that surprise me? He can't come to the
phone right now. So go to hell." She slammed down the phone.

I turned off my own phone, feeling my hands shake. I suppose it was the
response I should have expected. Janice would refuse to let me speak to Jez
just to spite me. I decided that maybe I would try again later and hope
that Jez himself would answer. Though thinking back, in all of the times
I'd called the house, I couldn't recall a single occasion where Jez had
answered the phone.

Janice had said "Why doesn't that surprise me?" almost as if she'd expected
me to ask for Jez. But as far as Emma and her mother knew, I'd never had
anything to do with Jez. Even when I'd taken him home I'd dropped him at
the end of his street. Why would Janice be expecting me to ask to speak to
Jez? Unless they had somehow found out that it was Jez who told me about
Emma. I sure wouldn't like to be in his shoes if that were the case.

Oh shit!

All those bruises. Jez had said he got them from his mother. I'd laughed at
him, not believing it. But what if he'd been telling the truth? I knew
Janice could be a vicious cow; I'd seen it myself. And I knew what a temper
Emma had, and that she'd resort to violence if she really lost it, since
I'd been on the receiving end. What if they had hurt Jez?

I'd picked up my jacket and was halfway to the door before I managed to
catch myself. What the hell was I doing? I could hardly go barging in there
throwing accusations like that. I threw my jacket aside and forced myself
to calm down and try to think things through. I was probably letting my
imagination run away with itself. And besides, after the way I'd treated
Jez, he probably wouldn't want to see me anyway. Maybe I'd misunderstood
what Janice had said. If I were to go round there and insist on speaking to
Jez, they were bound to realise there was some connection between us and
that would probably make things worse for him.

No, it was better to wait and see what happened. I'd give things a chance
to calm down, and tomorrow I'd try to find a way of contacting Jez.

However, as the evening wore on, I found myself unable to think of anything
else. Those bruises that Jez had had on his face, arms and chest had been
pretty bad. Suppose he had been telling the truth and they really had been
caused by his mother? He'd been telling the truth about everything
else. And he'd been beaten on at least two occasions that I knew of. If
she'd done it twice, she could do it again.

I glanced at the clock. It was coming up to 11.00 p.m. It was getting late.

It was no good. I had to know that Jez was OK. I grabbed my jacket and
headed for the car.


By the time I reached Jez's house, I'd wound myself up into a real state. I
marched up to the door and rang the bell, then, for good measure, I pounded
on the door with my fist.

The door was opened a moment later by Emma. "Lee?" She seemed surprised to
see me.

I pushed her aside and stepped into the hallway. Dan Greenwall was
there. It looked like the two of them had been just about to go out. They
were probably on their way to a club. It was nice to know Emma wasn't
taking our splitting up too hard. At least Dan had the good graces to look
uncomfortable by my arrival.

"Don't worry," I told Dan. "You're welcome to her. I hope you've got deep
pockets though, because she'll only stay with you until she gets a better
offer, and then she'll be moving on to the next poor mug. Though in terms
of pounds per fuck, she probably works out cheaper than picking up a girl
off the street." I gave Emma a cold look.

She glared back at me. "What the fuck do you want, Liam?" she asked.

"I want to see Jez."

"What's the matter, can't keep up with the girls so you've decided to try
your luck with little boys?"

"If all the girls were like you, I'd be better off gay," I snapped back at
her.

"What's going on?" Janice had appeared. She looked at me and her mouth
tightened.

"I've come to see Jez," I told her.

"Well you can't. Get out."

I ignored her and stepped towards the stairs, but she moved to intercept
me.

"Jez!" I called up the stairs. Janice got in front of me and tried to push
me back. "Jez!"

"Get out!" Janice was shouting, into my face. "Get out of my house!"

Emma was shouting something from behind me and I felt someone grab my
arm. I shook them off.

"Get out, or I'm calling the police," Janice screeched.

It had turned into quite a tussle. I was fighting to get to the stairs, and
Janice was trying to push me back towards the door. Emma had grabbed me
again and was yanking at my arm. Poor Dan just stood and looked on,
probably wondering what he had gotten himself into.

"Jez," I shouted again.

"Liam?" Jez appeared at the top of the stairs. He was wearing just a pair
of tatty looking shorts that were ripped all the way up one side and
appeared to be held together by little more than a few threads. There were
obvious fresh bruises on his arms and chest, and what looked like dried
blood on one of his shoulders. There was also a cut on his face above one
of his eyes and bruises on his shins as if he'd been kicked. He leaned on
the stair rail for support.

"Get back in your room," Janice ordered the boy.

"Get out of my way," I snarled at her, grabbing her arm and flinging her
aside. Seeing the state that Jez was in had confirmed my worst suspicions
and no one was going to stand in my way now. I charged up the stairs.

"Emma, call the police," I heard Janice call out.

"Yes, Emma, call the cops," I shouted down the stairs. "I think they should
see this. In fact, I might call them myself." Then I turned my attention
back to Jez.

The boy was trembling and there were tears on his face. As soon as I
reached the top of the stairs he fell into my arms.

"Oh God, Jez, why did you let them do this to you? Why didn't you tell me
what was happening?" I knew that he had told me, in the end, and that I'd
laughed at him.

He didn't reply, he just pressed his face against my shoulder, crying.

I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to think. I'd had no plan beyond
ensuring that Jez was OK, and so I had no idea where to go from here. "Jez,
you can't stay here," I told him. "You can't let them keep doing this to
you."

Jez lifted his head and looked up at me with blank eyes.

"I'm taking you home with me," I told him, reaching a decision. "You can
stay with me until you decide what you want to do. Let's get your things."
I glanced down the stairs. Janice and Emma were standing at the bottom,
looking furious, but watching in silence.

Jez led the way into his bedroom. Inside the door he stopped. I stepped up
behind him.

"Holy shit!" It looked like a tornado had swept through the room. Anything
that could be broken or smashed, had been. A wardrobe, standing against the
far wall, stood open with its door hanging off, drawers had been ripped out
and slung around, and even the curtains had been ripped away from the
window. But that wasn't the half of it. The floor was littered with torn
and shredded clothing, much of it ripped into several pieces. There was
nothing in any better condition than the shorts that Jez was wearing.

I let out a slow breath. "Who ever did this sure did a thorough job," I
murmured.

"Most of it was Emma," said Jez, his voice trembling. "After I told her it
was me who told you about what she planned to do."

"What did you go and do that for?" I asked him.

"I wanted to get back at her because of everything she's done to me. And
because of what she was doing to you."

"Oh, Jez," I said, shaking my head. I took off my jacket and put it around
his shoulders and then put my arm around him. "Come on, there's nothing
here worth saving. I'll lend you something to wear until we can get you
something of your own." I started to lead him out of the door, but he
pulled away from me.

"Wait a second." He stepped over to the mattress that lay on the floor, and
lifted a corner and pulled out what looked to be pieces of torn card. He
held these tightly against his chest as he came back to me. "Right, I'm
ready."

Janice stood at the bottom of the stairs, blocking our way, a determined
look on her face.

I was equally determined as I walked down towards her. "Jez is coming with
me. You can either get out of my way, or I'll knock you flat." She looked
at me uncertainly for a moment as if trying to gauge whether my threat was
serious and then she gave way. It was a wise move on her part, because the
mood I was in, I probably would have used force. I glared at her as I
walked past, keeping Jez pulled close to me. The boy was trembling again.

When we reached the front door, I looked back at Janice and Emma. I dearly
wanted to say something to them, but couldn't think of anything that would
show the utter contempt I felt for them. Instead, I spoke to Dan, who stood
back from the scene, his face pale. "I wish you luck," I told him. "You're
going to need it. You're going to need all the luck in the world." With
that, we left the house.

Jez didn't speak during the short drive back to my apartment. He was so
quiet that I wondered if he had fallen asleep. However he was awake enough
when we arrived to be able to give me a smile; it was a bit forced, but at
least it was an improvement on earlier. I put my arm around his shoulders
again and we went up to my apartment. Luckily we didn't meet anyone else in
the building. It would certainly have caused some raised eyebrows if anyone
had seen me sneaking in with a beaten, near-naked teenager in my arms.

Inside, I led Jez directly to the guest room. It wasn't very big, but it
was comfortable. "You can sleep in here," I told him.

Jez, nodded. "Thanks, Liam," he said.

"You get into bed and I'll find you some clothes for the morning."

"OK. Do you have any Sellotape?"

"Yeah, I expect so. I'll dig you some out tomorrow."

"No. I need it tonight." There was something in his eyes that told me that
for some reason, this was important to him.

"OK, I'll get it for you."

When I returned to the bedroom with the requested Sellotape and some
clothes that I thought wouldn't look too bad on him, Jez was already in
bed. The tattered shorts that he had worn lay on the floor. He'd turned off
the main light and the room was lit only by the dim glow of the bedside
lamp.

"Here you go," I said, as I handed him the tape and put the clothes onto a
chair so that they would be ready for him in the morning. "Is there
anything else you need?"

He shook his head.

"Alright. Get some sleep and we'll talk about all of this in the
morning. Everything will seem a bit clearer then. Don't worry about
anything at all, because you're going to be safe now.

Jez gave me a trembling smile and nodded. "Thanks Liam," he said.

I gently patted his shoulder. "Goodnight Jez."

"Goodnight."




I couldn't sleep. I was too wound up and angry. I'd tried forcing myself to
relax, but it was no good. So many different things kept going through my
head: my relationship with Emma, how I felt about Jez, what Emma and Janice
had done to Jez, what Jez was going to do now; everything was a mixed up
blur. I realised that by bringing Jez back here, I'd taken on some sort of
responsibility for taking care of him, at least in the short term. But what
was going to happen after that? Was he going to stay with me on a longer
term basis? Did he want to? I recalled Jez saying recently that he wished
he could move in with me, but how serious had he really been? Did I want
him here all the time? So many questions and no answers. Jez was sixteen
now, so as long as his mother didn't cause problems, there was nothing to
stop him staying with me, and if Janice decided to be difficult about it
she would be stirring up a huge amount of trouble for herself.

The more I thought about the idea of Jez moving in with me permanently, the
more I liked it. There would be some problems, of course, but nothing that
we couldn't sort out. He would be completely financially dependent on me,
but even living here full time he'd probably cost me less than Emma had
done in the time I'd been seeing her. I soon managed to convince myself
that Jez staying here would be the ideal solution. It was definitely what I
wanted.

But what if Jez had other ideas? I felt a sudden twist of fear at the idea
that Jez might decide that he didn't want to stay with me. Though what
scared me even more, was my reaction to that thought. Why did the thought
of losing Jez bother me so much? My heart started to beat faster as I
vividly recalled the time that the two of us had almost kissed, and in my
mind the scene continued to its natural conclusion; this time I didn't pull
back, and Jez's lips on mine were soft and sweet.

Damn! I shook my head to remove the picture and forced myself to think of
something else. Surely this couldn't be healthy; I was becoming infatuated
with a sixteen-year-old boy. Was this some sort of reaction to my splitting
up with Emma? I knew it wasn't. I'd felt this way about Jez while Emma was
still on the scene, even though I'd refused to let myself think about it at
the time. Maybe, considering my confused feelings towards Jez, the best
thing for both of us would be for him not to stay with me after all. I
ground my teeth in helpless frustration. I was going around in circles. Let
him stay, or not let him stay? I didn't know what the hell to do.

On impulse, I decided to check that the boy was OK. I climbed out of bed,
straightening my white boxers, which had become twisted as a result of all
the restless tossing and turning, and made my way silently down the short
hallway to Jez's room. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see that the
bedside lamp was still on. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside.

Jez lay half on his side, apparently asleep. The bedclothes were pulled up
around his chest, and both arms lay bare, on top of the sheets. Quietly, I
moved closer until I was standing over him. I could tell now that he was
indeed asleep; his was face relaxed and peaceful. As I stood watching him,
I felt a strange tightness in my chest. He was so beautiful; even the
bruises on his face and upper arms did nothing to detract from that. He
looked so peaceful and innocent, that I couldn't imagine how anyone could
possibly bring themselves to hurt him. Then I noticed what he held in his
hand and my breath caught in my throat. It was the birthday card I'd given
him. This was what he had wanted the tape for. The card had been torn into
pieces, but Jez had carefully reassembled them and taped them back
together. He'd fallen asleep with the repaired card gripped in his hand,
and it lay open with the words I'd written inside clearly on display. "To
Jez, my number one boy. Happy 16th birthday. Love from Liam."

I turned away, my eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, Jez," I murmured. "What am
I going to do?" I sighed deeply. I had to get a grip. I needed to get some
sleep and maybe things would be clearer in the morning.

Wiping the tears from my face, I moved silently back to my own room and
climbed back into bed. Eventually I fell into a restless sleep.

**********

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