The Bond of Brothers

Patrick could have predicted their responses. He didn't have to know them to figure that out. The office was quiet like the few seconds before the detonation of a bomb. Just time enough for someone to ask themselves, "What have I done?" The studio was pulsing with the anger and resentment that filled up every nook and cranny.

Morris Gentry couldn't even look at him. A pained expression darkened his face and his fists clenched together. Patrick stared at him and waited for something to happen. He visibly trembled causing Elisa to reach for his arm. He nodded that he was okay, but kept his mouth shut. Why did this man scare him so badly? No one else had that kind of effect on him. He glanced around the room. No random thought came to him as he looked upon each one. His eyes lingered on Pete the longest. He knew that this man’s reaction should have been the most important. He felt the urge to explain himself to Pete, but didn’t know why. That was weird. No other hints of times past came to him. It was just a quick fleeting feeling. Could have been a fluke. Nothing to get himself worked up over.

"You signed a contract, Patrick." Morris was the first to speak up. No real surprise there. He usually was. Again, Patrick felt that queer feeling and shivered. "You can't just waltz in here and hand us a bombshell like this. We have a half finished album and obligations."

"I realize that this...."

"No, you don't realize anything!" He snapped and came to his feet. Patrick stepped back in surprise by the sudden movement of the man who had been identified as upper management, whatever that meant. It looked like he was about to find out what that title entailed. Morris had him by the shirt before he could even utter a protest. "This isn't just about you. You can't decide the fate of all of us like this. I won't let you do this."

"Do this? Do this to you, you mean!" Patrick countered. The phony pretense of understanding was dropped, and each looked at the other with unbridled anger. After months of tip-toeing around him and the guys, the gloves were gone. Morris was willing to fight to keep this all together. Even fight Patrick if need be. But Patrick was not the same now. He was not the same kid who could be timid. He wasn't going to be able to bully Patrick into following along like a good boy. "You don't give a fuck about what this has done to me."

"Everything is about you, isn't it. Poor Patrick." Morris’ voice lowered to a cold cruel tone and spittle hit Patrick’s cheek. Neither seemed to notice. "You're not the only one involved in this. The goddamn world doesn't revolve around you. This is a group, and you signed on for better or worse. I'm not going to let you ruin this for the rest of us."

"Morris, please." Elisa forced her small frame between the two men, and Morris was forced to release his hold. "This isn't personal. Patrick’s not doing this to hurt any of you."

"Could have fooled me." Pete mumbled loud enough to be heard. His brown eyes had yet to look up from the carpet, but now they bore holes into Patrick’s chest. "Let's face it, Morris. Since Patrick has been back, things have been all wrong. He hasn't come back to us fully. Probably never will."

This man, who had once been his best friend in the entire world, stood up and crossed the office and stood directly in front of Patrick. They stared at each other waiting for something to be said. Patrick’s heart beat like a mad machine behind his ribcage and sheen of perspiration had broken out across his face. He didn't realize his own breathing came out in short quick bursts. The need on Pete’s face for recognition was gone. Patrick looked in to a pair of frigid russet eyes. "Pete. I know we're friends and..."

"We're not friends." Pete cut him off. For someone who claimed to not care about any of them, a look of agony seized control of Patrick. But Pete would not let himself be moved by that. "Like you said, Patrick. It's over. Go back home. Close your doors, play house with your wife. Pretend like that is going to be enough for you. Do whatever the hell you want to do, Patrick. That's all that matters to you."

"Pete...I..."

"Fucking spare me." He snapped, not allowing Patrick the chance to say one damn thing. Especially that he was sorry. He didn't want to hear it. Not now. "I don't even care anymore. I'm out of here."

Patrick could only watch Pete walk out. Shock kept him rooted to his spot, but he knew not to pursue him anyway. That would not do any good. In his gut, he knew this was what he had to do. No matter how much this hurt them.

Andy had been the quietest of them all. That was the way he always handled things. He had this quiet strength about him, and sometimes it was the strongest. He sighed and pushed himself up from the folding chair and headed towards the door. He paused in front of Patrick and hesitated. Patrick grimaced as he waited for what he had to say, and, sure enough, Andy found the right words to gut him. "He was your best friend. You don't treat friends like this, Patrick."

Well, I don't even know you. Not my fucking friends at all. Someone else’s that you just can't let go of.

"I'm sorry, Andy." Patrick offered. He wasn't sure why he said that. It seemed like the appropriate thing to say in a time like this. Andy didn't accept his words, only walked away. This was going to end exactly as he had predicted. Badly. Joe filled his vision and brought Patrick’s thoughts to him now. His bare arms of tattooed art crossed his chest while he just shook his head. "Joe."

"Didn't think it'd be you to do this, man." He waved off any words Patrick tried to speak. "Figured I'd be the one to fuck all of this us up."

Patrick bit on his lip. Why couldn't they just call him a fucking dickhead and just leave! This was getting harder by the moment. His head lowered and his eyes closed. He just wanted them all to leave.

"Happy now, Patrick?" Morris asked. When Patrick refused to respond, he shook him harshly by the shoulders until the man had no choice but to look up and meet his stare. "Is this making you happy?"

"Yes!" Patrick snarled. It didn't matter that it was a lie. The look of hate on Morris’ face stole away the guilt he had been feeling for what he had said to them all. Now, he wanted to stick it in Morris like a knife and twist until it hurt. "I'm so fucking happy. I'm free of you. Free of your constant pressuring. Free of your cocky, know-it-all superior attitude! Thank you, God! Free at last! Free at last!"

Morris’ fist swiftly connected to Patrick’s jaw and silenced his tirade. The smaller man could not resist the blow and stumbled to the floor. Elisa cried out his name, but pain throbbed in his head like a massive parade of drums drowning her out. Morris had knocked the shit out of him. The tall brooding man stood over them, his breath coming out like an enraged bull. "You deserved that. And a lot more. You selfish bastard!"

If Patrick could have dug a hole in the floor to hide in, he would have. Elisa cupped his jaw and dabbed at the blood that flowed from his split lip. Morris stalked off, and they were finally left alone. There was no one there to see him in his weakened state. Tears fell from his eyes, but he did not let the scream locked in his throat have its freedom. Elisa whispered loving terms of support to him. Things would be okay. They needed time to cool off. It just looked really bad right now, but things always change. Patrick closed his eyes and cursed himself. He had to do this. He knew he couldn't go back. But this was not just because of his lack of ability in the music department. He didn’t have it in him anymore. "I want to go home."

***********************

Three very hurt and angry faces were forever burned in his mind. Like a mental scrapbook of foul-ups, he had added another page. The list of those that he hurt along his agonizing voyage of self-discovery was growing longer as his "book" grew thicker.

He pushed them all away in a dark corner of his mind and slumped in the front seat of the car. Elisa sat rigidly behind the steering wheel, still too shaken up to turn the engine on. She had sworn to be supportive, but that had been far harder than she had ever imagined. She felt bad for the guys, but relieved at the same time. Maybe, this was for the best. Without the pressures of fame, they could finally scratch out a reasonably comfortable life together. After all, it was Patrick whom she loved. It had nothing to do with the group. "Are you okay?" She finally spoke up dispelling the silence that had engulfed the vehicle and put miles between them.

"Yea." He didn't bother diverting his gaze from the tan colored dashboard. He wasn't going to waste his energy trying to convince Elisa of something he wasn't even sure of. "Getting used to all of this now. I've become an expert at letting people down."

"They're just upset right now." She said. Her tone was soothing, like it was whenever she had to calm Matt's hurt feelings. Just like their son, Patrick needed to be treated gently too. "Once they calm down, they'll see it’s for the best."

"Morris said I was being a selfish bastard."

"Well, he was being an immature jerk.” She coaxed, trying to get at least a little smile out of him. "He loves you, in his own hard-ass way. He'll come around in time."

Patrick fell silent and other thoughts began to bounce around in his head. “Think I’ll get hate mail?” He cocked his head to the side, resting against the cool glass of the window. “They’ll see this as a betrayal. Just like the guys do.”

“I don’t care what any of them think.” His diverted gaze met hers. No disappointment was there. Only love. “Screw them all.”

A grin erupted across his face, and a soft chuckle parted his lips. “You’re right. Screw them all!”

Before he allowed himself to think he had her in his arms and pressed his lips to her tender ones. They felt soft and a bit tentative, but the hesitation did not last. The awkwardness melted away, and they both leaned closer for more. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to enter and explore. She tasted like peppermint.

It didn’t matter that they were in an empty parking lot outside of the recording company. They could have cared less. Patrick held on to her for the first time, and a fire began to smolder within him. As his hands began to explore her trim body, that heat grew into a ravenous blaze. She allowed his hands to roam up under her blouse and moaned when his right hand cupped her left breast firmly. His hot kisses left her mouth and traveled down her neck. Elisa easily released each button of Patrick’s shirt and stroked his bare chest with her fingers, circling each nipple. Like horny teenagers, they eagerly pawed each other and undid clothing that hindered what they both were wanting. His hands slipped up her skirt and yanked the lacy barrier down.

“I want you right now.” Patrick whispered in a husky voice while he nibbled on her lower earlobe. He couldn’t seem to move his hands fast enough and he began to pant from the raging need in him. The blood rushed to his groin forcing his erection against her thigh, further illustrating his urgent need for her. His eyes fell on her and he could make out every curve of her body in the soft glow of the parking lot lamps. They lit up with desire as he looked at her really for the first time. She could barely breathe. It was the way she had wanted him to look at her again. The look he had lost.

She saw him in a different light too. He was a changed man now, but she was learning it wasn’t such a bad thing. The new Patrick was growing on her, totally disregarding any resistance she had put up. Kevin had been right. Once she just accepted this man, things would be so much easier. For them both. The past was gone and no longer important. Kevin could be very smart at times.

Elisa wrapped her arms around his neck as he positioned himself between her tanned slim legs. She let out a gasp as he thrusted his hard cock into her wet center. His eyes locked with hers and watched them widen as he connected with her cervix. A mixture of pain and pleasure spread through her groin. Her moans increased while his rhythm grew quicker. All the tension left them, and both found themselves completely emerged in the act. All the doubts, pain and confusion was gone for that time he held her close to him and touched her the way a husband was supposed to.

“My God!” He managed through his clenched teeth. His eyes closed while his mouth went slack. Elisa could feel every muscle stiffen as he exploded inside of her. His cock pumped everything it could out and stole Patrick’s strength right along with every drop spilt. His shaky arms gave way under him, forcing him to lean on Elisa’s bare breasts. His cheek rested against the tender mounds of sweet flesh with a feeling of total contentment brought a smile to his face. For Elisa, it had been more than a year since they had done this. For Patrick, it was the very first time.

They laid there, their bodies entwined together. She curled her fingers around strands of his short blond hair as he gently stroked the skin of her left thigh. Every-now-and-then, he would kiss her warm skin. In a very soft voice, he spoke the words that was the cure all for every painful moment they had shared and harsh word he had spoken. The very thing that would finally help her heal.......

“I love you, Elisa.”

*********************************

For the first time since coming home from the hospital, Patrick awoke in the master bedroom beside his wife. He opened his eyes and focused on the clock numbers. It was just barely dawn, but he felt well rested and alert. Last night had not been filled with the constant confusing images of dancing lights and mangled tortured sounds. It had been a dreamless sleep. Something he needed desperately. Of course, he knew that being in the arms of the beautiful woman beside him was the main reason. Letting his guard down finally had done far more than release the tension that had weighed heavily on his heart. It had freed him from a prison. Bars that were constructed of doubt and fear had been stripped away.

He rolled over carefully so that he did not accidentally jostle her awake. He propped himself up on his right elbow and gazed down at her calm serene face. She slept with a sense of peace that she had not seen either in months. He could see it clearly in the smooth skin around her eyes and mouth. The lines of worry were gone and faded away. The dreams that had haunted her nights had too been expelled. It was a chance of rebirth for them. A step into their new future together. And since that day he had finally opened his eyes to a strange unfamiliar world, and that thought did not terrify him.

He slipped out from under the covers and pulled his thick navy bathrobe around his nude body. In bare feet, he padded across the thick carpet and onto the cold hardwood floors. He tip-toed down the hallway, down the spiral staircase that led to the foyer below, and through the rooms to the kitchen. He searched the cabinets for coffee, not really remembering if this had been a part of their daily routine before. He lingered on the thought just briefly before dismissing it entirely. He knew he needed the jolt of caffeine most mornings now. Except for this morning. He had other reasons to fix the rich black substance. Today, it was just for the pleasant scent and warmth it brought. He would brew a few cups, and then take some up to Elisa. They could watch the sun rise together while sipping the steaming brew.

Without realizing it, Patrick happily hummed a little tune to himself. As he hit the brew button, his ears finally picked up on the melody, causing him to stop what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly the humming type. He ceased, but the tune played on his head. It sang to him as he searched for something quick and easy to go with the coffee.

“You’re very perky this morning.” Elisa smiled at him from the kitchen doorway. Her sudden appearance took Patrick by surprise. So much for being quiet.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” He pointed a can of cinnamon rolls at her with a teasing grin on his dapper face. Elisa’s breath caught, and her heart leaped in her throat. She gazed at her husband. That old mischievous twinkle was back in those amazing cerulean eyes. The “windows to the soul” that had been closed to her for a long time were clear and bright. A genuine happiness was there. Not the forced look of affection she had feared would never leave his stare.

“You left my side. Couldn’t help but wake up.” She glided over the kitchen tile like a dancer and engulfed him in her embrace. “I was all warm and toasty, and then I got all cold.”

His smile widened. It was this feeling inside him that was going to help him get through the rest of the obstacles that would be undoubtedly cast in his way. He wished there was a way he could bottle this feeling like a tangible gift and save it for the days that would prove to not be so good. But, without that gift available to him, he could only savor moments like these, and thank God for each one. He tossed the can of uncooked pastries, and wrapped his arms around her small waist. His kiss was met by a sigh of serenity.

It was a slow one that blended them into one. Their breath matched as their hearts joined in rhythm. Elisa’s head began to tingle, and she went weak in his arms. “I love you, Patrick. I love you so much.”

His lips pulled away, but he still held onto her firmly. His smile was not in full bloom as it had been before yet, the look of love continued to glow from him like an aura. His voice grew deeper as he adopted a slightly more serious tone. He caressed her right cheek and pushed the stray hairs behind her ear while he spoke. “This is day one. We start over from this spot. Nothing else is going to matter. From now on, it’s just you, me, and Matt. To hell with everyone else. I only want two things from my old life back, Elisa. You and Matt.”

She cupped his hands with hers and brought his palm to her lips. Her kiss was just a gentle graze but powerful enough to send shivers and waves of passion through him. “You’ve got me, babe. And Matty. He loves you no matter what. God didn’t take you away from us, and nothing can rip us apart.”

“Not even Morris and the guys.” He added letting a hint of bitterness to creep back into his normally soothing voice.

“Still smarting, huh?” She asked, taking a fresh cup of coffee from him. He leaned against the counter without reaching for his own cup. Instead, his eyes dropped to the floor as faces of four angry men flashed in his mind. “Not going to be easy thing for any of you to get over.”

“I think...” Patrick began slowly, keeping his eyes diverted while he gathered his thoughts in a more orderly bunch. “What kind of bothers me is this lack of remorse. On my part. Morris sees this as an act of betrayal. And his anger does bother me in some ways, but not enough to make me change my mind. I have absolutely no regrets.”

“That’s incredibly brave of you though.” Elisa offered. “You have made up your mind and comfortable with your decision. Not many can ever say that. They are always plagued by regret. The guys are not coming from the same place that you are. They can only see things from their point of view, not yours. They’ll just have to come to grips with this, which they will if given enough time.”

“Babe.” He reluctantly ended his study of the tile floor and met her relentless gaze of support and understanding. “Don’t ask me how I know this, because I have no answer for you. You could call it a gut instinct. Or deep feeling. Or maybe even wishful thinking. Something to make myself feel better about turning four other men, for starters, lives upside down. But this need to withdraw is not a new one. In my gut, I know there is a lot more to it. Before the accident, I think I had these same feelings. This need was already planted in my mind.”

“You remember anything specific?” She tried to keep her voice level, but the pesky little devil known as Hope had a habit of creeping in and taking over.

“No. Nothing specific.” He shrugged. He hated talking about this, knowing that no matter how much she tried not to, her hopes always rose. The few inclinations he had about their previous time had been very vague and grasping at the slightest detail was tough. “A lot of it feels like gut instinct. Something in me pulls me in certain directions. I feel things that I can’t explain. But I guess that does stem from experience. Morris’ temper. It didn’t shock me. Felt like something I had experienced before, even though I don’t remember any specific time or event. I can imagine that I was a target for his wrath more than once.”

“It’s still a start.” Elisa set her mug down on the granite counter top and took both of his hands in hers. “At first, you didn’t feel anything towards the guys. Or me. I’m just thankful you’ve let yourself feel something for me.”

“I don’t just feel something for you.” He kissed her gently on her forehead. “I love you.”

The power in that kiss was strong enough to wipe any doubts or fears from her mind. But thoughts plagued him as they journeyed back up the stairs to their bedroom. Had he “remembered” their love? Or had he just fallen in love with her again? Maybe this time he had fallen for her for different reasons than the ones that had originally drawn him to this woman years ago. The second he fell into her loving arms, he decided that such questions really no longer mattered. He loved her. The rest was just semantics. He pushed those troubled thoughts aside and took the woman he now could honestly see as more than just a beautiful stranger. He had been granted a second chance with her. He wasn’t going to blow it with questions and doubts. It simply was what it was. Why read more into it?