Razzle Dazzle Page 21

  But not Jack. Never Jack.

  He walked to the dresser and touched one of the bottles, running his finger over the foil embossed label. It was exhausting being assaulted by so many different emotions on a daily basis. Roman had been perfectly fine since the Fernando debacle, maintaining a blasé attitude about everything. It made life so much simpler, if a bit boring on occasion. Of course, there had been his romps and endless shopping trips to distract him.

  Jack had changed all of that. There was the thrill of being with him, and the intensity of Roman’s love for him. There was the terror of losing him, and the overwhelming surge of need that the smallest thought of Jack elicited. And the fear. So much fear over whether or not Jack really loved him. The agony of knowing that Jack was so young and may want a new lover one day when Roman was too old to please him.

  So far, the cocaine had been doing the trick, but he knew it made his already impatient demeanour almost uncontrollable. He was constantly on edge. Yet, he didn’t dare stop in case Jack no longer thought him virile.

  Maybe just cut back a little.

  But first, he needed to fix things with Jack. An icy fear pierced him that maybe he had gone too far. He had seen the hurt in Jack’s eyes change to anger in just seconds. He would have to really make it up to him.

  Roman ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. He knocked softly on the door that joined their rooms. There was no response. He tried the knob, and it turned. Opening it with some trepidation, he peered around the door, and saw Jack curled in a ball on the bed, his back to Roman.

  “May I please come in, Jack?”

  Roman heard a sniff, but Jack didn’t answer.

  “Good Lord. Don’t cry, Jack, it absolutely tears me to pieces.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Roman pressed his lips together. Jack said it in such a tiny voice without emphasis, that it was more cute than hurtful. However, Roman was certain that if he burst out laughing, it would not help his case at all.

  “Well. I certainly deserve that and more. I had no right to yell at you the way I did, and I apologise. Please don’t hate me.”

  A sob escaped Jack, and Roman rushed to him, gathering him onto his lap, rocking Jack as he cried.

  “I’m sorry, my angel. So sorry.” Roman kissed the top of Jack’s head over and over. He held onto Jack tightly, trying to convey through his embrace just how important Jack was to him. “Please say something, Jack. My heart is breaking.”

  Jack hiccupped a little and tried to catch his breath. “I don’t hate you, Roman.”

  “Well. That’s a start I suppose. I haven’t lost your love, have I?”

  Jack threw his arms around Roman’s neck and sobbed harder into Roman’s chest.

  Roman enveloped Jack in his arms and caressed his body, desperately trying to soothe his hurt. After a few minutes, Jack’s crying slowed down, and Roman held onto Jack with one arm and reached his other hand into the pocket of his smoking jacket to retrieve a handkerchief.

  “Here, take this. You are leaking everywhere.”

  Jack choked out a small laugh. He wiped his face, but still grasped Roman’s neck with his free hand. There was a small measure of relief for Roman at Jack’s touch. It hadn’t turned into a dreadful scene with Jack telling Roman he never wanted to see him again, or any of the other horrible possibilities that played through Roman’s mind every time he became uncertain of Jack’s feelings.

  “I love you, Roman. I didn’t mean to upset you. But you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to bother you, so I thought if I got you some soda water, it might make you feel better when you woke up.”

  “How delightful. I am a fucking asshole. Of course, many know this already. I had just hoped to hide that part of me from you, my dear Jack.”

  “I don’t think that about you.”

  “That’s because you are much too kind.”

  “And I don’t want you to hide anything from me. I love you, and I want to know everything about you.”

  Roman closed his eyes and smiled, pulling Jack close again.

  I haven’t lost him then.

  “All right. No hiding.” Roman paused. “And I love you—to the point of madness. But next time, could you at least leave a note, or let Hector know where you are going? I become frightened when I don’t know where you are.”

  “Geez, Roman. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I know, Jack, I know.”

  Roman held Jack a little way from him, and saw just how red and swollen Jack’s eyes were. Roman pulled his eyebrows together at the sight.

  “My dear Jack. Don’t give up on me.”

  Roman leaned in to claim Jack’s mouth. The sweet kiss deepened until Roman hardened and claimed the rest of Jack.

  They had made love, slow and gentle, and now Jack lay in Roman’s bed. Jack had brought his root beer, the picture cards and Roman’s book hidden under his coat when they’d returned to Roman’s suite.

  “You won’t need that overcoat in here, Jack. I’m certain I can keep you warm enough,” he’d said.

  Roman’s good humour had returned, and Jack was sure that Roman was just teasing him—that he knew Jack was hiding something. Roman had instructed Hector to bring them a cold plate so that they could stay in for the night. Roman had drunk the soda waters, and thanked Jack over and over for being so thoughtful. Things were okay again.

  “Roman, I want to give you your birthday present.”

  “Excellent, let’s have Hector bring some ice, and we shall chill one of the bottles of champagne from my trunk. Then we can both open our presents.”

  “No—I don’t want my presents tonight.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “I want it to just be for you tonight. I can have my night tomorrow.”

  “May we have champagne for my celebration?”

  Roman had the twinkle in his eye that always charmed Jack, and he wished he knew how to make it so that Roman was like that all of the time.

  “Sure, Roman. But can I give you my present first?”

  “My, aren’t we eager? Of course you may.”

  Jack jumped off the bed, completely naked, and bent over to reach for the book under the coat that he’d set on one of the chairs.

  “I do believe you have just given me my present, Jack, and I want you to know that it is just what I have always wanted.”

  “Huh?”

  Jack looked over his shoulder, still crouched over and digging for Roman’s gift. Roman’s head was cocked to one side, with a devilish grin on his face as he stared at Jack’s ass. Jack stood up stock straight.

  “Roman!”

  Jack took the wrapped book, and hid it behind his back. He approached the bed and climbed in awkwardly, still trying to conceal Roman’s present.

  “Be careful there. We don’t want any injuries.”

  “Come on, Roman, I’m being serious.”

  “Forgive me. But you have me giddy with happiness.”

  “Don’t tease.” Jack wanted Roman to understand how important this was to him.

  “No teasing. I am very serious about how happy you make me.”

  Roman said it with such tenderness that it gave Jack the courage to hand him the poetry book. Roman raised his eyebrows and unwrapped Jack’s gift to him. Once he had the paper off, his mouth dropped open a little. Jack couldn’t quite tell what it meant. The suspense was too much for him.

  “Read what I wrote inside.” Jack was practically jumping up and down on the bed.

  Roman smiled and opened the cover. Jack watched as Roman read his inscription, holding his breath, anxious for Roman’s reaction.

  Roman looked up at Jack, an expression of supreme happiness on his face. “I shall cherish this always, Jack. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

  “Really? You like it?”

  Roman put the book on the nightstand next to him, and held out his arms to Jack. Jack melted into Roman’s embrace. “I love it, Jack, and I love you. It is the nices
t gift I have ever received.”

  Jack pulled back from Roman. “Oh come on, you must have gotten much nicer things.”

  “More expensive, but not nicer. This came from your heart, and that means everything to me.”

  Jack laid his head on Roman’s chest. He wished for them to be like this for always.

  * * * *

  There had been a dreamlike quality to the past few days with Roman. They had walked around the town, been to a couple of the local restaurants, but it had been windy and chilly, so they’d spent most of their time inside. But Jack had taken Roman to the picture card store on one of their outings to see if there were any new ones. Jack had purchased all of the new ones, and Roman had bought Jack a beautiful photo book that he could put them all in as a souvenir of their trip.

  They were relaxing in their room, and Roman had been trying to teach Jack how to play Parcheesi. He was getting the hang of it, but felt nervous under Roman’s watchful eye. As was usually the case, when it got later in the evening, the cards and board games would get put aside, and Roman would reach for Jack.

  “Are you still too sore, Jack?”

  He wanted to be able to give Roman what he wanted, but sometimes it was more than he could handle.

  “I’m sorry, Roman, maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  “Shh, don’t be sorry. I’m a brute. I would love for you to fuck me with your tongue. You have quite the talent.”

  Jack tried to think of something else they could do that might be a little different. He was still worried that maybe he wasn’t enough for Roman. He was well aware of Roman’s life of orgies and romps that no longer existed now that Jack was with him. It would be good for them to have some variety.

  “How about we try something different?” Jack couldn’t keep the shyness out of his voice. Roman had always directed their love-play.

  Roman looked a bit shocked.

  “Well, this is intriguing. What did you have in mind? I am all ears.”

  Jack flushed, in spite of himself. “I was thinking, even though I’m sore, you aren’t. So maybe I could do that to you.”

  Roman’s expression turned dark, and Jack immediately regretted his words.

  What did I say?

  Roman turned away from Jack and grabbed his cigarette case and lighter. He didn’t even offer one to Jack as he always did. He seemed to be in his own universe. After lighting his smoke, Roman stared off at some invisible spot in the room and took a long drag on his cigarette.

  “Roman? What’s wrong?”

  Roman glanced his way, but couldn’t quite meet Jack’s gaze. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just don’t do that. With anyone.”

  Jack frowned. Roman loved doing it to Jack. Jack had fucked Roman with his finger to stroke that special spot. And Roman had just asked Jack to use his tongue.

  “I don’t understand, Roman. Why not?”

  Roman put his head in his hand. “Is it so necessary for you to do that with me?”

  “No. I’ve never fucked anyone before.”

  That got Roman’s attention. He looked up. “Never? Not the boyfriend?”

  Jack shook his head. “I only asked you because it was something we’ve never done, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t satisfying you.”

  Roman’s rolled his eyes before looking at Jack again. “I don’t know how it would be possible for you to satisfy me any more than you do. This has nothing to do with that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Roman squinched his eyes closed and rubbed his forehead. He lowered his hand, picked up his cig and sucked more smoke in his lungs. “Jack—sometimes there are things that happen to people in life that are better forgotten about. They can’t be changed, so there’s no point in discussing them.”

  Jack considered Roman’s words. “But remember when I was ashamed to tell you my story, and you said that there wasn’t anything we couldn’t share between us?”

  Roman muttered a little to himself. “Dear Lord. The boy has a brilliant memory it would seem.” He took a deep breath. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “I just don’t want there to be any secrets between us. When we talk, it helps me to feel closer to you. I want to know everything about your life. I love you.”

  “You know I can’t say no to you when you put it like that. But first, I need you to get the bottle of gin out of my trunk…”

  “But we don’t have any ice.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the ice, or a glass for that matter. Just hand me the bottle.”

  Roman wasn’t saying it to him angrily, but there was an underlying tension to his voice and body language that had Jack a little on edge. Jack handed Roman the bottle. He undid the stopper, and took a large swallow. He paused, took a final drag on his cigarette, smashed it into the tray and chugged some more gin. Jack had never seen Roman like this.

  Roman set the bottle down and turned to Jack.

  “My dear Jack, I will tell you what you want to know. I have never shared this with anyone since that time, not even with that toad Fernando. After tonight, I never want to speak of it again, do you understand?”

  Jack nodded, afraid to say anything.

  “And another thing. I despise pity. I don’t want to see that on your face.”

  Jack nodded again.

  Roman looked away, obviously unable to look Jack in the eye. He went back to staring at the unknown point in the room.

  “I grew up in a filthy little Mexican village. My family was quite poor, but then, many were, so we weren’t unique in that way. From a very early age, we were all expected to do our share to help the family. There were a lot of children in my family, and I went to stay with my uncle for a while, to help him on his farm. I was six or seven years old, who knows?” Roman stopped his story to take another big gulp of booze. “The rapes began from almost the first moment I arrived to live with him.”

  Jack froze, his stomach dropping. Even at its worst, the orphanage had never been that bad.

  “It continued for the three years that I lived there. I never told anyone. As I matured, I knew that I only wanted to be with men. I wondered if it was because of what had happened with my uncle.” Roman chuckled bitterly. “Truthfully, I had so successfully blocked the assaults from my memory that it wasn’t until my first sexual experience that it all came flooding back. The young man I was with had sucked me off—quite pleasantly—but when he tried to…” Roman cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t ever do that.

  “My uncle’s final assault on me was not in the form of anything physical. He had come to visit, and my father shared his concerns that I hadn’t shown any interest in a young señorita that he had hoped I would marry. My uncle told him it was because I was a maricon, a faggot. My father beat me quite badly that day, and my mother told me I was no longer her son…”

  Roman choked a little on his words and reached for the gin bottle. This time, he emptied it in three long swallows, and he listed a little to one side before dropping the bottle on the floor. Jack’s heart was crushed.

  “So I’ve never been back, and good riddance. May they all die horribly.”

  Roman fell back on the pillows, his eyes closed, his head lolling away from Jack. Jack crawled over to Roman and wrapped himself around him. Nothing was said. Roman embraced Jack, seemingly hanging onto him for salvation.

  It was almost time for Roman to begin filming his new picture. Global had been after Jack to star with Trixie in another comedy. The original picture that Jack, Roman and Trixie had been in together had done very well, and Jack suddenly found himself in a couple of the fan magazines. Roman was so proud of Jack and cut them all out. He told Jack he needed to save every one and put them in a scrapbook. None of it seemed real.

  The rest of their stay in Catalina had been tinged with a bit of melancholy, but Roman had been tender and loving the entire time, and Jack had done his best to do everything he could to make Roman happy. The story Roman had told him haunted Jack. It seem
ed impossible to reconcile the abused little boy with the great screen idol. Jack was in awe that Roman had been able to change his life so drastically, and wished he could tell him how proud he was of all that he’d accomplished. But Jack had promised they would never talk about it, so he had to keep his feelings to himself.

  But as the time of being able to spend every hour of every day together came to a close, Roman had become increasingly hostile. Most of the time, Roman saved his wrath for the servants or the studio people, but once in a while Jack was the recipient of Roman’s anger. Jack did everything he could not to upset Roman. But inevitably, there would be something so little that would set him off that Jack would never even see it coming until it was too late.

  The night before had been awful. They had made love over and over, but Roman never seemed satisfied. He would disappear into the bathroom to shower, not letting Jack in with him, then would come back out ready for more.

  They had finally fallen into an exhausted heap at four in the morning, and Roman had told Hector to call the studio and say that he would be late, that he wasn’t feeling well. Roman had left a few hours before, at one o’clock, but not before making Jack promise that he would be waiting in bed for him, naked, when he came back from filming. In the meantime, Global had called, and wanted Jack to come in for a costume fitting—they were demanding that he start his next picture with Trixie the following Monday. Jack was terrified of Roman’s reaction when he returned that night.

  Jack was in the back seat of the Rolls. It was the car that Roman typically used in town, and Juan was driving Jack home after his appointment with the wardrobe mistress. He had hoped that Trixie would be there. They hadn’t talked since the last picture had wrapped. He’d been with Roman non-stop. But he was told that she hadn’t been in yet. He waited as long as he dared, and decided they could catch up on the set.

  The days were much cooler now, and Jack was relieved that the unrelenting heat seemed to be behind them. There was a heaviness inside him that had resumed once he and Roman had returned from their trip together. The idea that he and Roman could only exist in a fairy tale world nagged at Jack all the time now. He pushed it away. He didn’t want to think about bad things. After all, that was how Roman had handled his hurt, and it had worked for him.