Brave by Alp Mortal
Categories: Contemporary Romance | Gay | Mystery/Fantasy
Word Count: 55,084 Heat Rating: 3 Price: $ .99 Available here:
 |
A destitute and uneducated young man living on the streets is knocked down by a car. The driver, Joseph, a wealthy and influential businessman, takes the young man into his home to better care for him. Thus begins Archie’s journey of self-discovery. Joseph employs a nurse, Nathan, to provide the care and a teacher, Anthony, to help the young man to learn how to read and write. Joseph’s personal assistant, Jacob, completes the principal cast of this story.
Archie and Nathan fall in love. For Archie, love is a both a word and a feeling which he has never known before. However, what appears to be charity and compassion on the part of Joseph begins to take on an altogether different complexion and suddenly Archie and Nathan are in danger. Jacob tips them off to the threat and helps them to escape from Joseph’s house. Seeking refuge in the Comanche grasslands, Archie and Nathan meet Gus, an old Comanche warrior, who gives them sanctuary. Learning to ride and exploring the landscape of love is all-consuming, except for the nagging, burning question which was never answered; why had they needed to flee from Joseph and Anthony? A puzzle, given to Archie by Jacob, once solved, leads them to a hoped for rendezvous with Jacob where the threat becomes both real and deadly. Joseph’s true motives for helping Archie are eventually revealed and all are thrown into mortal danger. Brave is a metaphysical journey which borrows from the Comanche creation myth. The title Brave was chosen to convey both the bravery of the main characters as they triumph over their respective demons and the bravery of the Comanche from whom I have drawn much inspiration, both for this and other stories. Brave combines the three stories, Broken, Mended and Demon Rider. Broken previously appeared in A Liberty Treasury Trio of Gay Romances. Mended and Demon Rider were previously published as stand-alone titles. I am always very happy to receive your feedback. If you wish to contact me directly, please email me at: alpmortal@hotmail.com. Visit the website, alpmortal.weebly.com, for updates on the next gay romantic story or crime thriller which I am working on. Thank you, Alp Mortal |
Chapter One – At least I got a private room
I broke my leg, badly. The first break was near the top and the second just about halfway between the knee and the hip. It was pinned inside and it meant having to stay in traction for six weeks. It wasn’t my fault, this guy lost control of his car on the ice and he really didn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t looking and he hit me. The edge of the bonnet broke my leg just above the knee and the second break occurred as I was thrown over the car and I hit the edge of the kerb as I landed. The rest of my injuries were minor cuts and bruises; they said I was lucky not to have suffered severe head injuries.
Well, the thing is, I don’t have anyone or any place, so when I got to the hospital, there wasn’t any one to call and then they started to treat me differently because I hadn’t washed or eaten in so many days and I couldn’t answer any of their questions because I didn’t understand them. In the end, I just screamed and someone sedated me. When I woke up, I was in this room; everything was white and smelled of bleach. I had a white gown on and do you know, for a second, I thought I was in Heaven. And I would have thought I was in Heaven if I hadn’t been attached to the traction machine and my leg hadn’t hurt like Hell.
No one came; I think they’d forgotten about me. Two days they left me just lying in that room. Then he came, the driver, and all Hell broke loose because he found me. The shouting started and the fussing and the cleaning up and the food and the drink but in the end he said, “Move him to the house.”
He had directed this to a smartly dressed man who was neither young nor old; he looked severe and I was afraid of him. For some reason, I was moved to the man’s house; a large house with a beautiful garden and installed in a room with a window overlooking the garden. The traction machine came too and there was a nurse who tended me all day. At night, she left and I felt very sleepy.
One night, I think she forgot the sleeping pill in my concoction of drugs and I wasn’t sleepy after she’d left. I lay and listened to the noises of the house and I could hear music. Very late, the door opened and the man who had been driving the car came in. He looked startled when he saw that I was awake.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” he said softly.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Usually when I stop by, you are fast asleep.”
“Why am I here?”
“We can look after you better here.”
“What’s your name?”
“Joseph; what’s yours?”
“Can’t remember.”
“The doctor says that you didn’t hit your head so we are puzzled that you seem unable to remember anything.”
“I remember lots of things; it’s just that some things aren’t important enough to remember.”
“Your name is very important.”
“Only if you use it.”
“How long have you been living on the streets?”
“A long time; since I was a child.”
He looked at me for a long time without speaking and then he asked, “Do you need anything?”
“It hurts.”
“Where?”
“Where the pin goes through; the weight pulls on it and it gets sore around the edge.”
“What does the nurse do?”
“She puts some cream around it and then it hurts less.”
“Where is the cream?”
“In that drawer; the blue and white tube not the red and white tube; that’s toothpaste.”
He laughed as he fetched the cream.
“Shall I put some on?”
“I don’t know. She could get upset, I said, ‘let me do it’ and she said, ‘no, you have to be a nurse to do it’ ...”
“I’m confident she won’t mind if I do it.”
“Okay; be careful.”
“I will.”
He folded down the sheet to expose my legs. I was naked ‘cos it made it easier for bathing and changing the dressings, a gown just got in the way.
“Oh,” he said a little surprised.
“I don’t wear the gown. It gets in the way all the time and I get so hot.”
“I understand ... I should put on some gloves.”
“In the second drawer.”
He pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and very, very carefully applied a little of the cream to the pin site which got sore the most.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you tell her that you did it and it wasn’t me?”
“I don’t think she’d believe it was you; you can’t reach the drawers.”
“I guess; still, best if you say.”
“Okay I will ... did you ever go to school?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Do you know how old you are?”
“No.”
“Okay, enough questions; but you need a name; you could choose one.”
“I only know yours.”
“What if I bring a book of names and we choose one together?”
“Could we do that?”
“Yes, we can.”
“Okay ... when?”
“Tomorrow, just before lunch and we’ll have lunch together.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Yes; I shouldn’t but I do.”
“Could we have one now? The nurse says it’s not allowed but I really need one; she doesn’t smoke so she doesn’t know how bad it can get.”
He reached in his jacket pocket and brought forth a beautiful cigarette case which he opened, and he offered me one.
“Thank you.”
He took one too and he lit his and then he held out the lighter, a gold one, to light mine. I sucked and felt the warm, dry smoke fill my lungs.
“Better?” he asked, smiling.
“Like you can’t believe.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes then he asked, “How do you survive?”
“I’m good at finding things.”
He smiled to himself.
“When you are out of the traction machine, you can sit in the garden when it’s not too cold … or in the conservatory.”
“What do you do?” I asked because clearly he was very wealthy.
“I buy and sell shares.”
I must have looked blank.
“Like you, I’m good at finding things; things some people don’t want and then I sell them to other people who want them.”
I felt better for knowing that because it meant we had a sort of connection.
“Do you have a family?” I asked.
“Not really; I was an orphan and made my own way in the world.”
That was astounding to me, that he should have been able to get so much from having nothing. Clearly it meant he was very good at finding the things that people wanted.
“Who is the other man?”
“Jacob; he manages things for me when I don’t have time or if I’m away.”
“Are you going away soon?”
“No; in the Spring I shall take a holiday in the South of France.”
I must have looked blank again.
“It’s a different place, a long way from here … there’s a beach. I could show you in the atlas.”
Too many words I didn’t understand and it was tiring to have to think so much.
“I’m feeling sleepy now.”
“I’ll say goodnight and tomorrow we’ll have lunch and I’ll show you the name book.”
“Okay,” I said, “please tell the nurse I didn’t touch the cream and you smoked in here; she’ll be suspicious.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
He kissed me on the forehead; I don’t know why. He smelled of something nice; least it wasn’t bleach.
“Goodnight,” he said but I was already drifting off.
I broke my leg, badly. The first break was near the top and the second just about halfway between the knee and the hip. It was pinned inside and it meant having to stay in traction for six weeks. It wasn’t my fault, this guy lost control of his car on the ice and he really didn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t looking and he hit me. The edge of the bonnet broke my leg just above the knee and the second break occurred as I was thrown over the car and I hit the edge of the kerb as I landed. The rest of my injuries were minor cuts and bruises; they said I was lucky not to have suffered severe head injuries.
Well, the thing is, I don’t have anyone or any place, so when I got to the hospital, there wasn’t any one to call and then they started to treat me differently because I hadn’t washed or eaten in so many days and I couldn’t answer any of their questions because I didn’t understand them. In the end, I just screamed and someone sedated me. When I woke up, I was in this room; everything was white and smelled of bleach. I had a white gown on and do you know, for a second, I thought I was in Heaven. And I would have thought I was in Heaven if I hadn’t been attached to the traction machine and my leg hadn’t hurt like Hell.
No one came; I think they’d forgotten about me. Two days they left me just lying in that room. Then he came, the driver, and all Hell broke loose because he found me. The shouting started and the fussing and the cleaning up and the food and the drink but in the end he said, “Move him to the house.”
He had directed this to a smartly dressed man who was neither young nor old; he looked severe and I was afraid of him. For some reason, I was moved to the man’s house; a large house with a beautiful garden and installed in a room with a window overlooking the garden. The traction machine came too and there was a nurse who tended me all day. At night, she left and I felt very sleepy.
One night, I think she forgot the sleeping pill in my concoction of drugs and I wasn’t sleepy after she’d left. I lay and listened to the noises of the house and I could hear music. Very late, the door opened and the man who had been driving the car came in. He looked startled when he saw that I was awake.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” he said softly.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Usually when I stop by, you are fast asleep.”
“Why am I here?”
“We can look after you better here.”
“What’s your name?”
“Joseph; what’s yours?”
“Can’t remember.”
“The doctor says that you didn’t hit your head so we are puzzled that you seem unable to remember anything.”
“I remember lots of things; it’s just that some things aren’t important enough to remember.”
“Your name is very important.”
“Only if you use it.”
“How long have you been living on the streets?”
“A long time; since I was a child.”
He looked at me for a long time without speaking and then he asked, “Do you need anything?”
“It hurts.”
“Where?”
“Where the pin goes through; the weight pulls on it and it gets sore around the edge.”
“What does the nurse do?”
“She puts some cream around it and then it hurts less.”
“Where is the cream?”
“In that drawer; the blue and white tube not the red and white tube; that’s toothpaste.”
He laughed as he fetched the cream.
“Shall I put some on?”
“I don’t know. She could get upset, I said, ‘let me do it’ and she said, ‘no, you have to be a nurse to do it’ ...”
“I’m confident she won’t mind if I do it.”
“Okay; be careful.”
“I will.”
He folded down the sheet to expose my legs. I was naked ‘cos it made it easier for bathing and changing the dressings, a gown just got in the way.
“Oh,” he said a little surprised.
“I don’t wear the gown. It gets in the way all the time and I get so hot.”
“I understand ... I should put on some gloves.”
“In the second drawer.”
He pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and very, very carefully applied a little of the cream to the pin site which got sore the most.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you tell her that you did it and it wasn’t me?”
“I don’t think she’d believe it was you; you can’t reach the drawers.”
“I guess; still, best if you say.”
“Okay I will ... did you ever go to school?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Do you know how old you are?”
“No.”
“Okay, enough questions; but you need a name; you could choose one.”
“I only know yours.”
“What if I bring a book of names and we choose one together?”
“Could we do that?”
“Yes, we can.”
“Okay ... when?”
“Tomorrow, just before lunch and we’ll have lunch together.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Yes; I shouldn’t but I do.”
“Could we have one now? The nurse says it’s not allowed but I really need one; she doesn’t smoke so she doesn’t know how bad it can get.”
He reached in his jacket pocket and brought forth a beautiful cigarette case which he opened, and he offered me one.
“Thank you.”
He took one too and he lit his and then he held out the lighter, a gold one, to light mine. I sucked and felt the warm, dry smoke fill my lungs.
“Better?” he asked, smiling.
“Like you can’t believe.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes then he asked, “How do you survive?”
“I’m good at finding things.”
He smiled to himself.
“When you are out of the traction machine, you can sit in the garden when it’s not too cold … or in the conservatory.”
“What do you do?” I asked because clearly he was very wealthy.
“I buy and sell shares.”
I must have looked blank.
“Like you, I’m good at finding things; things some people don’t want and then I sell them to other people who want them.”
I felt better for knowing that because it meant we had a sort of connection.
“Do you have a family?” I asked.
“Not really; I was an orphan and made my own way in the world.”
That was astounding to me, that he should have been able to get so much from having nothing. Clearly it meant he was very good at finding the things that people wanted.
“Who is the other man?”
“Jacob; he manages things for me when I don’t have time or if I’m away.”
“Are you going away soon?”
“No; in the Spring I shall take a holiday in the South of France.”
I must have looked blank again.
“It’s a different place, a long way from here … there’s a beach. I could show you in the atlas.”
Too many words I didn’t understand and it was tiring to have to think so much.
“I’m feeling sleepy now.”
“I’ll say goodnight and tomorrow we’ll have lunch and I’ll show you the name book.”
“Okay,” I said, “please tell the nurse I didn’t touch the cream and you smoked in here; she’ll be suspicious.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
He kissed me on the forehead; I don’t know why. He smelled of something nice; least it wasn’t bleach.
“Goodnight,” he said but I was already drifting off.
