CHAPTER TEN: ANGELS AND DEMONS
By Sadie Rose Bermingham ©2006
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The sealed envelope was propped up on the counter in the Day Room when Ant rose and wandered through for some breakfast. It was addressed by hand, with Rayne's name alone in stark, black ink on the crisp, white cartridge paper. He touched the edges of it warily as if it might be cursed, then picked it up, feeling the weight of the folded documents inside. As he was turning it over in his hand, Daniel wandered back through from the rear deck looking like God on holiday, in a long, almost-translucent white gown and open sandals, his snowy hair spilling over his shoulders like a shroud. Steely eyes glittered a warning but all he said was; "Leave it."
"I need to know," Ant said, tapping one end of the envelope into his open palm irritably.
"Then you can ask him when he gets back and opens it," Dan Leland told him, shaking his head. "If it makes you feel better, Mahmoudi dropped it off in person. He did not suggest that we should be unduly concerned."
For a long moment, Ant just stared at the dreaded envelope as if he could peel away the layers of paper with his eyes and devour the words inside. Then he made himself set it down again and poured some orange juice.
"Who is the little blond in your bed?" Daniel enquired loftily, reminding him that there was nothing going on aboard this vessel that he did not know about.
"Christophe's boy, Thierry," Ant sighed wearily. "The guy who said he'd have Rayne raped. I reckon he decided to take it out on Thierry instead. Isolde and I found him on the way back from the club. He needs somewhere to recover."
Daniel shook his head, apparently bemused by this.
"You're becoming a regular knight in shining armour, Antoine. It's not your duty to rescue every little slut that crosses your path, you know!"
"Thierry's not a slut!" Ant protested. "He genuinely believes he's in love with that bastard. He'd let the guy do almost anything to him, but last night was just too much. He still won't tell me what happened but it looks like Christophe beat the shit out of him."
He followed Daniel out into the morning sunlight, still preoccupied by the contents of the envelope back on the galley counter.
"You spent the night with Arnoldo, I believe?" Dan commented as he joined the older man on the sunlit deck, rubbing tired eyes against the brilliance of the light that shimmered off the dancing waves.
"What if I did?" Ant sat down cautiously and sipped his drink, wincing at the cold, sharp taste.
"I'm not rebuking you, child. If you want my opinion, I think it is a good thing," Leland smiled pacifically at him and helped himself to a croissant. "You have been far too preoccupied with your little pet since you arrived. It will do you good to relax and enjoy yourself. Aldo is an uncomplicated boy. He has more... maturity."
Ant could not argue with that. He had enjoyed Aldo di Boccato's pounding 'maturity' inside him for much of last night and was glad of the cushions on his friend's comfortable lounger this morning.
"I don't have the hots for him though," he told Daniel with a little sigh. "When I look at Aldo I just don't get the feeling I get when I'm with Rayne. I know I'm crazy, but that's how I feel. He... sets me on fire."
"He's consuming your common sense, that's for sure," his companion snorted in a good-humoured tone. "Antoine, you used to be such a level headed boy."
"We all grow up and we all do foolish things for love," Ant said distractedly, staring into space, although his eyes had wandered instinctively towards the huge cruiser moored at the head of the next pontoon.
"Please tell me that you're not in love with the little bitch!" Daniel shook his head gravely. "That would be too excruciating."
"Just because Corin broke your heart, it doesn't mean they're all the same." Ant's serious gaze moved back to his face, more boldly.
"Please! Broke my heart? He was a little junky slut and he went the way of all of them in the end. Good riddance!" Daniel snatched up his newspaper though and retreated behind it, clearing his throat. His casual demeanour had evaporated. Ant experienced a little surge of satisfaction then felt it slowly ebb away as he watched Dan Leland fidget with the broadsheet then slap it down again and retreat back into the cool shadows of the Day Room.
The old man had been alone since Corin Harding left him. And although he was never without company it was not the same as having a lover who knew your every whim. Although Corin was fifteen years Dan's junior, they had been passionately, hedonistically close for almost a decade, living in London and Paris, making movies and enjoying life to full. Everyone they knew smoked a little grass or even took poppers or speed on occasion. Then Corin discovered the temptation of Smack. Before long he was disappearing for days at a time, stealing money and possessions and making excuses for his absences that even a blind, deaf and stupid man would be hard pressed to fall for. Daniel was none of those things and although he was patient, he would not be made to look foolish. He gave Corin an ultimatum, clean up and give his new Dealer friends the push, or move out.
Corin pretended for a little while that he was clean but when Dan found needles in their bedroom he took the initiative. Packing his things and moving everything else into storage, he retreated to his boat on the Cap and had been there ever since. Corin tried to get him back but Dan would not see him or speak to him. The younger man had died of an overdose, alone, in a Parisian hotel bedroom, about eight years ago. Daniel did not even go to his funeral.
The thought of Rayne lying dead in a squalid room somewhere with a needle in his arm made Ant feel sick to his stomach. Then he looked up at the looming, white boat that filled his vision and the idea of the boy being stretched and violated somewhere on board, started a fire in his belly that would not subside. Pushing himself to his feet he walked back into the Day Room, snatched up the envelope and set out for PJ's vessel to find out the truth for himself.
Rayne Wilde woke with a slight headache and an astonishingly sore throat, the only detractions from an otherwise overwhelming sensation of wellbeing that seemed to have wrapped itself around him in the night. It was not the only thing. Paddy McNamara was snuggled up against his back and bottom, his steady breathing like a hot breeze on Rayne's neck. Clay was lying sprawled on his belly in front of the boy, his dark handsome head pillowed in his folded arms, sleeping face turned a little towards them. His long braids cascaded over the rumpled bedclothes like a spill of tiny snakes. For a little while, Rayne just lay still, enjoying the heat and the primal, musky-salty scent of their spent sex, letting the memories of last night come back to him. When he closed his eyes again he could not recall anything beyond struggling to suck on the length of Paddy's cock. His rectum was not aching so he deduced that the men had actually honoured their promise to Daniel Leland after all. Rayne was privately astounded.
He lay in Paddy's arms a little longer, deliberating on recent events. Last Wednesday, Ant had hauled him out of the London snow and thawed him out in the warmth of his bed. Since then, it seemed that he had not gone for more than half a day without getting his mouth or his arsehole fucked. Even working for Johnno, he did not think he had ever been screwed as frequently as he had been during this hectic week. He was not even sure what day it was.
