The Russos 12 Read online

  "Oh, don't hurt that," Tony protested.

  Janet shook her head.

  Later, they were all sitting around outside enjoying the sunshine. Abbey was in the pool with Nolan now playing ball.

  "So," Angelo said to his father, "how does it feel to be one year older?"

  "One year older," he muttered. "You didn't bake a cake, did you?" He opened one eye.

  "No. Don't worry. I can cook, you know. Ask Tony."

  "Maybe in the bedroom, but..."

  Angelo laughed. "Sleaze."

  "Yes, and Nolan is grateful."

  "I bet."

  "You know we should all go inside and get freshened up," Angelo announced, looking at Tony.

  Tony nodded.

  There were some protests, then finally people began to move.

  Two hours later, the caterers arrived, and then the guests. Drake pretended to be miffed about the party, but Angelo knew he was pleased deep down.

  There were a lot of friends the family hadn't seen for a long time. The members of Drama, Angelo's group, showed up as well. Anne and Chester had gotten hitched recently, and Mike was still struggling with his latent homosexuality.

  Tony had named the group Drama when just three weeks after he'd joined, Mike walked in one day, really drunk, and announced to Angelo that he'd had a homosexual encounter.

  That night, Angelo had said to Tony that his life was nothing but one drama after another. The name of the group was born.

  And now as Tony watched Angelo with his father, he couldn't help but feel a grateful sense of satisfaction. It had been a hard road. Angelo refused to even speak to his father for two years. Then, Drake had been rushed to the hospital after having collapsed on stage. Luckily, it had been nothing but a simple case of dehydration.

  Angelo had been frantic. Tony could say nothing to comfort him. When they found out it wasn't serious, Angelo had gone to his father's hospital room. They stayed alone together for at least a half hour. Tony had no idea what was said in that room, but when Angelo emerged, everything had changed. It brought them closer than ever.

  Now, Drake was blowing out his candles. Nolan stood close by. Tony could see how much Nolan loved Drake. He was happy for Nolan, and happy for Drake. He knew that no one could take his father's place in Drake's heart, but still, he seemed happy with Nolan.

  And he'd been with Angelo now for five years, and they were still madly in love. They never talked about the past anymore, and Tony truly believed that Angelo had forgiven him. They toured with the band, but Angelo was nowhere as driven as his father was.

  He was never wrapped up in the fame or the fortune.

  They were known, but they'd never be The Russos.

  Tony was content with that, and Angelo seemed to be too, developing more and more of an interest in the business aspect as the years went by.

  As for his guitar playing, Angelo had taught him a lot. He had greatly improved, and he'd developed that confidence Drake told him he would. However, he was like Angelo, content to lead a much quieter life than his father had.

  Now, Abbey was interested in music. Anne was her hero, and she had already started playing the guitar and the piano. Janet went with the flow. How could she not? Abbey was naturally gifted, and surrounded by music.

  Everyone was happy and healthy and for a long time, there hadn't been any dramas. That suited Tony fine. He could hardly believe where his life was today. That young closeted gay man with the stars in his eyes seemed to have disappeared forever. He was still in contact with Sam, who was expected to visit them that summer, and his mother and stepfather called on special occasions, but he belonged here. His life had always been here waiting for him, with Drake and Angelo, and Mac, Pepi, Janet and now Abbey.

  This was his family. They were all a part of his father and a part of him.

  It was true, he was feeling nostalgic. He didn't want Angelo to see the tears in his eyes as he watched him interact with his father. He envied him, their closeness. He wasn't sad, although Angelo would interpret it as that. He was happy. For the first time in his life, he was truly happy. It didn't matter what the future brought, he was where he belonged.

  The party was in full swing about midnight and everyone had been drinking a little too much, including Tony. When the doorbell rang, he danced to the front door, humming one of the newest Russo tunes; one Angelo had actually helped his father write. When he opened the door, he found a really good-looking man in his young twenties standing there. He appeared to be highly agitated. "May I help you?"

  "Is this...ah...is this where Angelo Russo lives?"

  "Yes. Are you are a friend of his?"

  "No, not really."

  "You're here for Drake's birthday then?"

  "Drake's birthday? Drake Russo is here?"

  "Yeah. It's his party. Come in."

  "No, I...got to get going."

  Tony narrowed his eyes. "I'll get Angelo, if you want."

  "No." He backed away.

  "Ah, there you are," Angelo said suddenly, putting his arm around Tony's waist. "What are you doing?"

  He glanced at the figure in the doorway.

  "This guy was looking for you?" Tony shrugged.

  The young man came closer for a second, peering at Angelo.

  "Hi," Angelo said, extending his hand, "do we know each other?"

  He smiled a little, taking Angelo's hand.

  Tony took a breath. He recognised that smile. It seemed so familiar.

  "No, we don't know each other really. My name is Derek, Derek Macintosh."

  "It's nice to meet you, Derek. What can I do for you?" Angelo glanced behind him. "I'm having a party here for my father, and..."

  "I know. I don't mean to interrupt."

  "Well, come in and close the door." He reached out and pulled Derek inside.

  Tony stared at him. "Jesus Christ," he breathed.

  "Who are you?"

  "Tony," Angelo cleared his voice. "Don't be rude."

  Derek was staring at Angelo. "I'm your brother," he said.

  Angelo blinked, then he laughed. "What?"

  "Drake Russo is my father."

  Angelo was speechless.

  "You got to be kidding," Tony said.

  "I'm not. I wish I was. I really hesitated coming here, but...it was nice to meet you, Angelo. I'll be leaving now." He turned away.

  Angelo reached out, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry, but you can't just walk in here and..."

  "I don't want anything from you." He turned around. "I just wanted to...I guess I wanted to see you."

  "Me? Why me? I would think it would be Dad you'd want to..."

  "No. I was adopted. I had a father, a good one. I grew up alone. I've always wanted a brother. Please don't tell Mr. Russo."

  "He doesn't know about you?" Tony asked.

  "No. My biological mother was a big fan, a groupie, really young. It was an impulse thing, in the Russo trailer. She got pregnant and put me up for adoption. Recently, I went looking for my adoption records. She had listed Drake Russo as the father. I looked her up. She told me."

  "It might not be true," Angelo said.

  "Angelo," Tony interrupted, "look at him."

  "Please," Angelo sighed, "don't go. I...I won't say anything to Dad, but...he'd want to know. He's not the same guy now that he was when he was a kid."

  "But I don't want anything. I don't want him to think that I came here for anything."

  Angelo took a breath. "Please stay. Let me take your coat."

  Derek hesitated, then handed his coat over.

  "Go ahead and..."Angelo paused. "I'll catch up to you."

  Tony and Angelo watched Derek walk into the other room.

  "What do you think?" Tony asked, touching Angelo's arm.

  "I don't know what to think."

  "Do you believe him?"

  "Strangely, yes."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  "I'm not sure. A little funny, I guess."

&n
bsp; Tony hugged him. "Are you going to tell your father?"

  "Not yet. Let's wait awhile, see how it plays out. It's Derek's place to tell him, not mine."

  Derek kept a low profile, nodding to people occasionally. He was drawing a lot of attention. He glanced over at Angelo a few times. He couldn't get enough of looking at him. Angelo was perhaps a year or two older, with the same hair and eyes. They had the same shaped forehead and chin, but Angelo was a few inches taller.

  He had avoided looking over at the man he knew to be his natural father. From the moment he saw that name on his birth record, so much became clear. He had been musically gifted from the age of three. His parents had paid for piano lessons. He now played classical piano for a living. All he wanted was to know where he came from, and to feel as if he belonged. He glanced at the piano, which stood silent in the middle of the room and walked over to it. He ran his fingers over the keys.

  "You play?" Angelo asked, coming up to him suddenly.

  Derek smiled. "Some."

  "Play something," Angelo said.

  "Here, now?"

  "Yes. I'll turn off the music." He walked over and turned the volume down on the stereo.

  Derek sat down behind the piano and stroked the keys. Suddenly, a beautiful melody of 'Stranger in Paradise' streamed out over the room.

  People turned and looked, quieted to listen.

  Drake was standing next to Pepi in the next room when he heard the music. He paused. "Who's playing?"

  "I don't know. It's very good," Pepi said, drawn into the other room.

  Drake followed. He stood shock still as he listened, something touching his very soul. "My father was a concert pianist," he said suddenly.

  "Dad?" Pepi laughed, then suddenly sobered, "oh, you mean your biological father, Drake Corderone?"

  "Yes," he said. "He must have sounded like that."

  "Have you even wanted to...you know...go back there and...for Angelo?"

  "I've thought about it," Drake said. "I meant to ask Angelo if he'd like to..." He paused, closing his eyes.

  "Who is that young man?"

  "I don't know," Pepi said.

  The music stopped.

  Everyone applauded.

  "That was sensational," Angelo said. "Do you play professionally?"

  "Yes, well...I'm an amateur, really. I play in a small orchestra."

  Drake came over suddenly.

  Derek backed away from the piano, practically knocking the bench over.

  "That was excellent," Drake said. "Where did you learn to play like that?"

  "It's ah...in the blood," he said, meeting his gaze.

  "Very nice," Drake said.

  "I've ah...got to go," he said.

  Drake narrowed his eyes. He looked at Angelo.

  "What's his problem? He's a little jumpy."

  "Dad, I think we should talk," Angelo said, nodding at Tony.

  Tony nodded back.

  "Talk about what?" Drake asked as Angelo led him out into the entrance.

  "That young man, his name is Derek Macintosh."

  "And?"

  "He says that he's...your son."

  "My...my what?" Drake blinked.

  "It could be a hoax. He said his mother was a groupie, and..."

  Drake didn't say a word.

  "Did you screw a lot of groupies, Dad?"

  Drake sighed. "It happened, yes."

  "I leave it in your hands. Like I said, anyone could come here and say that. I didn't know what to tell him, and..."

  Drake walked to the closet and took out his jacket.

  "Where are you going?" Angelo asked him.

  "To find him."

  "Do you really think that...?"

  "Angelo, your grandfather was a famous classical pianist. We need to find out more about that. We can start with your...brother."

  Angelo was trembling when Tony came up behind him. "It will be all right," Tony told him. "It will be all right."

  "You didn't go very far," Drake said, catching up with Derek at the corner of the street.

  "No," he said, smiling. "I didn't mean to come there tonight and upset everyone...especially on your birthday."

  He shrugged. "I bet you I'll never forget this one."

  He laughed slightly. "Um."

  "Why didn't you come to me earlier?"

  "I didn't bother looking up my records before. I was happy."

  "And now?"

  "I'm a little miserable."

  Drake nodded. "Me too. This life I've led...it's rather an insane one. I'm just beginning to feel as if I know what I'm doing."

  "I understand that, I think."

  "I don't remember your mother."

  "That makes two of us. I only met her a few months ago. She's like a stranger."

  "And you had a happy childhood?"

  "I did. I don't want anything from you, Drake."

  "Okay. But if you are my son, and I have a feeling you could be...I will want to be a part of your life. Is that a problem?"

  He shook his head. "No." He smiled a little. "My parents are both dead now. They were killed in an avalanche, skiing. I wouldn't have bothered searching for my adoption papers if they were still alive."

  "That's noble. You must have loved them a lot. They were lucky to have a son like you."

  "Thanks."

  They started to walk. "Tell me about your life. Are you married?"

  "No. Gay. Hope that doesn't bother you."

  He laughed.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I'm gay, and so is your brother."

  He smiled. "Angelo is very beautiful."

  "Yes. He looks like his mother."

  "He looks just like you."

  Drake smiled. "Are you in love?"

  "Not yet."

  "You will be."

  "Someday. I'm not in any hurry."

  "Good."

  "I had a strange dream the other night. It was the reason I came here tonight." They stopped suddenly.

  "This is my car," he said.

  "What did you dream about?"

  "I dreamt...it didn't make sense..."

  "Tell me."

  "I was in some strange county. The people were talking some foreign language I didn't understand.

  There was music playing, a beautiful piano concerto...sounded like a lullaby. It might have been Brahms...and suddenly there was a man...he looked like...well, like you, but it wasn't you, you know...different haircut and in a black suit...with...old-fashioned..."

  "Go on," Drake urged.

  "He spoke to me, and although it was in this language...I somehow understood what he said."

  "What did he say?"

  "He said the music flowed in my veins like a river...like blood...and that blood was the link."

  "That's all?"

  "No. I saw an angel. This sounds stupid."

  "No. Tell me. Tell me about the angel."

  "He said...it wasn't cold where he was...and that... "I watch over your father every day, and I smile."

  The tears pooled in Drake's eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He took a step and stumbled into his embrace. He held him for a moment. "Thank you."

  Derek smiled, and opened his car door. "Don't mention it. And happy birthday, by the way."

  Drake pulled a card out of his pocket. "Call me tomorrow."

  "We'll do a DNA test if you want," he said.

  "Fine. Although I doubt it's necessary. We already know the answer."

  He nodded and got into the car.

  Drake watched him drive away. He looked up at the night sky, and smiled. "Hi, baby," he said.

  "Thanks for looking out for me. And thanks for sending Derek to me. It's quite the birthday gift you've given me this year. Nolan is good to me. I love him in my own way. He's not you, but he makes me happy. Hope you don't mind."

  Angelo looked stressed when Drake walked in the door. Drake walked over, and hugged his son. "Hey, there."

  "So?" Angelo said impatiently.
/>   "We'll get a blood test and see. My guess is, you have a brother. Are you all right with that?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "Not really. You're a member of this family. Nothing can change that. How would you feel about you, me and Derek taking a trip to Italy this year?"

  He nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

  "Now, where is that man of mine?"

  "Nolan has passed out on the sofa."

  "Looks like I won't be getting any tonight," Drake commented dryly.

  Angelo laughed and shook his head. He walked back into the living room. Tony came to stand beside him. Most people were either passed out, or gone.

  "What a mess," Angelo sighed.

  "House or family?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

  Angelo threw an arm around him, and kissed him softly on the lips. "The house, of course. I have a feeling that this family is going to be just fine."

  This concludes Episode Twelve.

  This brings us to the end of the Russo saga.

  Thank you for coming along for the ride.

  One wonders, however...will Derek fit into the Russo family? Will Nolan and Drake stay together? How about Angelo and Tony? Can anything ever come between them again? Will Pepi ever fall in love?

  The answers to these questions are written in the heavens above.

  D.J. Manly

  D. J. Manly is fast acquiring a reputation for pushing the boundaries of male/male erotic romance. A reviewer once said of Manly's work that it was enough to give the reader "...third-degree burns in an air conditioned room..." and that's putting it mildly. If you adore gorgeous men who can't get enough of each other's bodies...if you like rich plots laced with steamy sex, thick and rich with aching need and glorious adoration and love...Manly's books will satisfy the craving and leave you panting for more.

  "If I wouldn't enjoy reading it, I wouldn't be writing it," says Manly. "I like to tease...but I always please..."

  To check out books by D.J. Manly, you can visit the website at djmanly.com, and take a taste...if you dare.

  "Fair warning, I've been told that it's highly addictive."

  D.J. .