Uncertain Fire, page 10
"All right, then. What's so urgent?"
Bradley wasn't sure where to begin, he was even questioning now whether it had been wise to come. "I...I need help."
Howell raised an eyebrow. "Financial help? The company is doing well."
Bradley shook his head. "No, no......personal help. I've acquired a very powerful enemy."
Interest sparked in Harry Howell's brown eyes. "Tell me what's happening."
Taking a deep breath and steeling himself against his own pride, Bradley plunged forward. "Do you know of an attorney named James Kendall?"
Howell nodded once but a twist of his lips showed that not only was he familiar with the name, Kendall was no friend of his. "Go on."
"A....a friend of mine," Then Bradley decided fuck it, he was going to be completely honest. "My boyfriend, who I love very much, was being blackmailed by him. I only learned of it last night and I beat the shit out of Kendall. He's going to come after me, and you are the only man I know that may be able to help."
Howell leaned back, gesturing for Bradley to continue. "Tell me the whole story, Bradley."
So Bradley did, starting from when he met Kamil up until the events of the night before. When he had finished, Howell sat in silence, his face thoughtful. Bradley fidgeted, waiting. It had been incredibly difficult for him to come to Harry Howell, to abandon his dignity and bare his soul to a man he had no reason to expect sympathy from, but then he thought of Kamil. Kamil had sacrificed even more, had let himself be used and degraded and had been willing to give up everything, even his future with Bradley, in hopes of saving Bradley's company. He couldn't let that all have been in vain.
Finally, Howell spoke. "I hate that son of a bitch, Kendall. He has never bothered me so I've left him alone, but I didn't know he was doing this kind of sleazy shit. I've heard a great deal of dirt about him and it won't take much to prove any of it. I'll make some phone calls right away. He won't bother you or your friend....your boyfriend again, I promise you."
Bradley was flabbergasted. He had been grasping at straws by coming to Howell, it was the only course of action he could think to take but he hadn't really expected Howell to help him. After all, why should he? They were only business associates, after all. "Thank you!" he managed to say.
To his surprise, Howell smiled. "Don't look so surprised! I'm not the cold-hearted monster people seem to think I am."
"We don't think that!" Bradley protested without thinking, then he felt he had to elaborate. "It's just that you're, well, not very....um, outgoing." he finished lamely.
To his relief, Howell laughed outright, standing and coming from behind the desk. He didn't respond to Bradley's words, saying instead that he would call in some favors immediately to ensure James Kendall would make no move against Bradley or against Kamil.
"The managers of a few of my clubs have had complaints about him before, but they were intimidated because Kendall acts like he holds a lot of influence. Believe me, he doesn't."
Bradley followed Howell back through the house, glancing into the rooms they passed. One room seemed to be filled with electronic equipment and musical instruments but they passed by too quickly for him to get more than a glimpse. Halfway through the living room three little girls, all seemingly under the age of 12, suddenly descended upon them in a flurry of giggles and squeals. The youngest, who couldn't have been more than six years old, latched onto Howell's legs.
"Daddy, Daddy, Chrissy says I can't ride her bike! Tell her to let me, Daddy! Please?"
Howell laughed, his face softening into an indulgent smile. "It's her bike, Faith. You have your own!"
The little girl suddenly noticed Bradley and went shy, hiding half behind her Dad and putting her fingers in her mouth, her eyes wide. A slightly older girl came over and took her hand to lead her away, but she planted her feet and faced Bradley.
"Hello. Are you a friend of my Daddy's?"
"Hush, now, don't bother him." The other girl tugged on her arm, but Bradley stepped forward.
"Hello, sweetheart. Yes, I'm a friend of your father's. My name is Bradley." He held out his hand to the little girl, who hesitantly reached out and shook it briefly. For the first time, the oldest girl stepped forward and took charge. "Come on. I'll let you ride my bike." She took each of the other girls by the hand and led them back down the hallway they had emerged from.
"They're beautiful girls," Bradley remarked and was amazed by the transformation in Howell's expression.
"They're my life," he said softly. There was a mix of pride and a kind of loneliness in his voice.
"They made quite an impression on Norm's little girls. He's mentioned it a few times. I know he’d like it if you would bring them over to play again."
Howell looked up in some surprise as he opened the front door to escort Bradley out. "Really? Maybe I should, I think they would like that."
Bradley left it at that, thanked Howell again, and turned to leave but suddenly turned back. "You know, you're welcome out at the hangar even when there isn't business to discuss. Drop in for a visit sometime." With a wave, Bradley climbed into his car and left.
When Bradley arrived home he could hear the strains of acoustic music before reaching the door. He entered quietly, knowing Kamil well enough to know he was seeking solace for his troubled mind in the music. He sat on the couch, his fingers moving gracefully over the guitar strings, his eyes closed. The music was something Bradley didn't recognize.
When the song was finished Kamil looked up to see Bradley sitting in the chair opposite the coffee table.
"That was beautiful, but it sounded sad."
Kamil didn't reply, laying the guitar aside, and Bradley came around to sit next to him.
"Don't look so worried, I don't think Kendall will trouble us anymore."
Kamil's eyes widened in alarm. "What did you do!?"
Bradley had to laugh a bit. "I didn't arrange to have him killed or anything like that if that's what you're thinking. I just went to the one person I know who's more powerful than Kendall, and I think he'll be able to put the fear of God in him. Umm...I had to tell him what had been happening, though, I'm afraid."
Kamil shook his head dismissively. "That doesn't matter, the important thing is getting that man out of our lives. Thanks, Bradley. You have every reason to never want to see me again, yet you're helping me."
"The thing most I'm upset about is that you didn't come to me when that asshole first approached you, but I can understand why. Kamil," Bradley reached up and brushed Kamil's hair back from his face, stroking his thumb along his jawline, "we can handle anything if we talk to one another and are completely open with each other. I feel like I've been keeping you out too, but that's going to stop. I want you to be in every part of my life. I want you to come to the airfield more often if you'd like to. Get to know the guys there."
Kamil smiled, his eyes dark with emotion. "That means a lot to me," he admitted, and Bradley couldn't restrain himself any longer, reaching out and taking the blonde in his arms. He brushed his lips softly against Kamil's, feeling the softness of the other's lips mold to his own perfectly. He felt Kamil's long fingers thread through his hair and he cupped the blonde's head, bringing him closer, feeling an overwhelming tenderness as Kamil's lips traveled from his mouth to his cheek and neck. He kissed a torturously slow line of kisses down Kamil's neck, behind his ear, brushing the soft hair aside as Kamil tilted his head back, his lips parted slightly. They leaned back against the back of the couch, Bradley's arms tightening around Kamil's slim waist, pulling him tighter, feeling the little tremor as his kisses dipped lower to the base of Kamil's throat, dipping his tongue teasingly into the hollow of this throat.
"Let's go into the bedroom," he suggested breathlessly, and Kamil nodded. They fell onto the mattress but Bradley felt impelled to go slowly, he wanted to savor Kamil's every touch, every breath, every sensation. At the back of his consciousness, he knew Kamil needed to be reminded of his value after how he had been used as no more than a piece of meat by James Kendall and Bradley wanted to show him exactly how special he was to him. He gently pulled Kamil's shirt off, climbing astride him and covering his chest with kisses, circling each nipple with his tongue until he had Kamil squirming beneath him. Kamil tugged at the hem of his shirt so Bradley pulled it off, loving the feel of Kamil's fingers through his chest hair, brushing against his own nipples as Kamil's mouth fastened to his neck, biting and sucking then licking the skin there.
"You taste so good," Kamil breathed, "I love how you taste..."
Bradley's only reply was a moan and he moved down Kamil's smooth, taut stomach to unfasten his jeans. He didn't want to move too fast, he wanted to prolong this. Recently the mood of their lovemaking had been different, something Bradley now understood to be a result of what Kamil had been going through. It had been tense and almost frantic, less playful, but now they could go back to the lazy, indulgent all-day lovemaking that had marked their first few weeks together. Before unzipping Kamil's jeans he moved back up the blonde's body to kiss his lips again. Long, deep kisses, letting their tongues twine together, learning every nuance of each other's mouths.
Kamil's hands were on Bradley's back, traveling up and down his spine, lowering to cup his arse, squeezing him and pulling him against him.
"Bradley, I want you....." Kamil murmured around their kisses, "I need you.....,"
Bradley couldn't hold back any longer, he lowered Kamil's zipper, fingers trembling in their urgency, peeling the tight jeans down his lover's hips until they were kicked off even as his own jeans were being opened. Kamil's hand crept inside, closing around Bradley's length and he moaned at the sensation. Once they were both completely nude the physical sensation of skin against skin was excruciating, the heat and hardness of their arousal as they ground together almost enough to bring them to climax from that alone. Kissing his way down Kamil's body again, Bradley deliberately teased him with licks and kisses before he took him completely into his mouth, tasting the essence of the other man's excitement on his tongue as he cupped his firm buttocks.
Kamil moved against him, trying not to thrust so hard he would choke Bradley, and Bradley released him only to dip his tongue lower, circling the balls one by one then taking them each into his mouth. Kamil loved this, he knew, and he stroked the blonde to the very edge of orgasm before relenting.
Kamil let out a low whine, his hands in Bradley's hair, and as Bradley raised up again he felt Kamil slip the familiar tube of lubricant into his hand.
"Now, Bradley," Kamil whispered, "don't make me wait any longer."
Bradley wasn't small and as always he was careful to ensure Kamil was ready, but when they came together and he was looking down into those stormy gray eyes he had to force himself to slow down, to make it last as long as possible. Kamil crossed his ankles around Bradley's thighs, meeting every thrust perfectly, and then there was no way to hold back the tide. Kamil always maintained eye contact through the act, at least until orgasm took him away, and though Bradley had found this disconcerting at first, it was incredibly sensual. He was also quite vocal with murmurs, moans, gasps, and cries, but afterward they lay together quietly, still caught up in the phenomenal passion they had just experienced. They spent the remainder of the day in bed, alternately loving and talking, reconnecting after and becoming even closer.
On Sunday the two were in the living room, Kamil idly strumming on his acoustic as Bradley reclined on the couch reading a book on World War Two when a knock sounded at the door. They froze, looking at one another. No one ever came to the flat except utility readers and the postman. Bradley marked his place in the book and answered the door to find Harry Howell on the doorstep. He wouldn’t have been more surprised if it had been the Pope.
“Harry! Come in!”
Howell entered a bit awkwardly and Kamil laid his guitar aside, standing.
“Harry Howell, this is Kamil.” Bradley felt no other introduction was necessary. Howell briefly shook the hand Kamil offered.
“I wanted to let you both know that you need have no further worries about James Kendall. I left word that he wasn’t to be allowed in any of my clubs, and he showed up at one of the midtown places last night. When he was refused access he very stupidly tried to fight the bouncer and the police were called. They found a large amount of cocaine, ecstasy, and other drugs on him. He isn’t going to weasel his way out of this one, he’s going to be put away for a very long time.”
“Oh, thank God.” Kamil breathed, and Bradley echoed that. Howell nodded.
“I wanted to let you know personally.” He turned to leave, then caught sight of the line of electric guitars Kamil kept against one wall of the room. “Those are yours?” He shot Kamil a quick look.
Kamil nodded, and Howell walked over for a better look. “Is that a ‘62 Jazzmaster?”
“Yeah. I’ve had the pickups modified, though.” Kamil told him.
Howell reached for it, “May I?”
“Of course.” Kamil handed him the guitar. Howell looked it over and strummed it experimentally.
“I used to have one like this before I switched to playing bass. It’s in excellent condition.”
“Here, try it.” Kamil plugged the guitar in and switched on an amp. Howell perched on the edge of the couch and played a short piece flawlessly. Bradley had all but forgotten that Kamil mentioned he had once had his own band.
Kamil was telling him about how he had the pickups stacked and which strings he preferred and Bradley watched in some amusement as the two unlikely men connected. Harry Howell became animated when talking about music and accepted the beer Bradley offered him with a genuine smile. He was familiar in a general way with Blue Banshee, Kamil’s old band, and when he heard about Pandamonia he expressed considerable interest, recognizing the names of the other musicians from their former bands. He and Kamil didn’t exclude Bradley from their conversation but Bradley preferred to sit back and listen, he loved to hear how knowledgeable Kamil was and watched as Harry Howell seemed to almost visibly thaw as they talked.
“Why did you stop playing professionally?” he asked Harry out of curiosity.
Howell gave a half shrug. “After I bought my first club there just wasn’t time for both. Then Lisa was born and I bought more clubs and it just got pushed aside, I suppose. I still play at home to relax; I’ve built a small studio at the house just to mess around in.”
Howell stayed at the flat for over an hour. In the end, he and Kamil jammed on a couple of songs and after he left Kamil remarked that he seemed to be a nice guy.
“I suppose he is, if I look past the fact he tries to get too involved in my company.”
“I think maybe he’s just trying to find some kind of purpose, you know?” Kamil sat back down on the couch and accepted the beer Bradley handed him. “I’ve heard he was considered one of the best bassists in the country before he quit.”
Bradley smiled. It was so like Kamil to see the best in everyone.
Chapter Nine
The following weeks rekindled the joy Bradley and Kamil had shared before the shadow of James Kendall had fallen over their lives. The relief Kamil felt with the knowledge that that horrible man could never hurt either of them again was almost physical and he showed it with the unbridled enthusiasm he threw into everything he did. Bradley was realizing now how he had allowed himself to become duller and more humdrum than he had been aware but now, with Kamil in his life, his sense of fun had returned. He found himself more light-hearted than he had felt in years, laughing and enjoying even the most ordinary mundane things simply because of the man at his side.
Kamil was a free-spirited person and, as he had warned Bradley, he sometimes did simply wander off for walks at any hour of the day or night. Bradley was learning not to worry about this, it was simply his way of relaxing and collecting his thoughts. He always returned from these excursions with a sense of peace and Bradley had to learn to trust than Kamil was careful and could take care of himself, in spite of how protective Bradley felt toward him.
Bradley's business was picking up more contracts and both pilots were often busy flying several flights each day. Bradley found that he could rely on Denny more and more to take care of things at the office which freed him up to take some of the flights himself, lightening the burden on Aaron and Norm and also giving him some much-needed flight time. Harry Howell was keeping his input to a minimum and rarely visited the airfield, phoning occasionally to check in but offering fewer of the suggestions Bradley had found so intrusive. Bradley wasn't sure what was behind this change but he was happy about it. He felt more comfortable with Howell now but still preferred to run his business without the other man hovering over him.
Bradley wasn't sure where to begin, he was even questioning now whether it had been wise to come. "I...I need help."
Howell raised an eyebrow. "Financial help? The company is doing well."
Bradley shook his head. "No, no......personal help. I've acquired a very powerful enemy."
Interest sparked in Harry Howell's brown eyes. "Tell me what's happening."
Taking a deep breath and steeling himself against his own pride, Bradley plunged forward. "Do you know of an attorney named James Kendall?"
Howell nodded once but a twist of his lips showed that not only was he familiar with the name, Kendall was no friend of his. "Go on."
"A....a friend of mine," Then Bradley decided fuck it, he was going to be completely honest. "My boyfriend, who I love very much, was being blackmailed by him. I only learned of it last night and I beat the shit out of Kendall. He's going to come after me, and you are the only man I know that may be able to help."
Howell leaned back, gesturing for Bradley to continue. "Tell me the whole story, Bradley."
So Bradley did, starting from when he met Kamil up until the events of the night before. When he had finished, Howell sat in silence, his face thoughtful. Bradley fidgeted, waiting. It had been incredibly difficult for him to come to Harry Howell, to abandon his dignity and bare his soul to a man he had no reason to expect sympathy from, but then he thought of Kamil. Kamil had sacrificed even more, had let himself be used and degraded and had been willing to give up everything, even his future with Bradley, in hopes of saving Bradley's company. He couldn't let that all have been in vain.
Finally, Howell spoke. "I hate that son of a bitch, Kendall. He has never bothered me so I've left him alone, but I didn't know he was doing this kind of sleazy shit. I've heard a great deal of dirt about him and it won't take much to prove any of it. I'll make some phone calls right away. He won't bother you or your friend....your boyfriend again, I promise you."
Bradley was flabbergasted. He had been grasping at straws by coming to Howell, it was the only course of action he could think to take but he hadn't really expected Howell to help him. After all, why should he? They were only business associates, after all. "Thank you!" he managed to say.
To his surprise, Howell smiled. "Don't look so surprised! I'm not the cold-hearted monster people seem to think I am."
"We don't think that!" Bradley protested without thinking, then he felt he had to elaborate. "It's just that you're, well, not very....um, outgoing." he finished lamely.
To his relief, Howell laughed outright, standing and coming from behind the desk. He didn't respond to Bradley's words, saying instead that he would call in some favors immediately to ensure James Kendall would make no move against Bradley or against Kamil.
"The managers of a few of my clubs have had complaints about him before, but they were intimidated because Kendall acts like he holds a lot of influence. Believe me, he doesn't."
Bradley followed Howell back through the house, glancing into the rooms they passed. One room seemed to be filled with electronic equipment and musical instruments but they passed by too quickly for him to get more than a glimpse. Halfway through the living room three little girls, all seemingly under the age of 12, suddenly descended upon them in a flurry of giggles and squeals. The youngest, who couldn't have been more than six years old, latched onto Howell's legs.
"Daddy, Daddy, Chrissy says I can't ride her bike! Tell her to let me, Daddy! Please?"
Howell laughed, his face softening into an indulgent smile. "It's her bike, Faith. You have your own!"
The little girl suddenly noticed Bradley and went shy, hiding half behind her Dad and putting her fingers in her mouth, her eyes wide. A slightly older girl came over and took her hand to lead her away, but she planted her feet and faced Bradley.
"Hello. Are you a friend of my Daddy's?"
"Hush, now, don't bother him." The other girl tugged on her arm, but Bradley stepped forward.
"Hello, sweetheart. Yes, I'm a friend of your father's. My name is Bradley." He held out his hand to the little girl, who hesitantly reached out and shook it briefly. For the first time, the oldest girl stepped forward and took charge. "Come on. I'll let you ride my bike." She took each of the other girls by the hand and led them back down the hallway they had emerged from.
"They're beautiful girls," Bradley remarked and was amazed by the transformation in Howell's expression.
"They're my life," he said softly. There was a mix of pride and a kind of loneliness in his voice.
"They made quite an impression on Norm's little girls. He's mentioned it a few times. I know he’d like it if you would bring them over to play again."
Howell looked up in some surprise as he opened the front door to escort Bradley out. "Really? Maybe I should, I think they would like that."
Bradley left it at that, thanked Howell again, and turned to leave but suddenly turned back. "You know, you're welcome out at the hangar even when there isn't business to discuss. Drop in for a visit sometime." With a wave, Bradley climbed into his car and left.
When Bradley arrived home he could hear the strains of acoustic music before reaching the door. He entered quietly, knowing Kamil well enough to know he was seeking solace for his troubled mind in the music. He sat on the couch, his fingers moving gracefully over the guitar strings, his eyes closed. The music was something Bradley didn't recognize.
When the song was finished Kamil looked up to see Bradley sitting in the chair opposite the coffee table.
"That was beautiful, but it sounded sad."
Kamil didn't reply, laying the guitar aside, and Bradley came around to sit next to him.
"Don't look so worried, I don't think Kendall will trouble us anymore."
Kamil's eyes widened in alarm. "What did you do!?"
Bradley had to laugh a bit. "I didn't arrange to have him killed or anything like that if that's what you're thinking. I just went to the one person I know who's more powerful than Kendall, and I think he'll be able to put the fear of God in him. Umm...I had to tell him what had been happening, though, I'm afraid."
Kamil shook his head dismissively. "That doesn't matter, the important thing is getting that man out of our lives. Thanks, Bradley. You have every reason to never want to see me again, yet you're helping me."
"The thing most I'm upset about is that you didn't come to me when that asshole first approached you, but I can understand why. Kamil," Bradley reached up and brushed Kamil's hair back from his face, stroking his thumb along his jawline, "we can handle anything if we talk to one another and are completely open with each other. I feel like I've been keeping you out too, but that's going to stop. I want you to be in every part of my life. I want you to come to the airfield more often if you'd like to. Get to know the guys there."
Kamil smiled, his eyes dark with emotion. "That means a lot to me," he admitted, and Bradley couldn't restrain himself any longer, reaching out and taking the blonde in his arms. He brushed his lips softly against Kamil's, feeling the softness of the other's lips mold to his own perfectly. He felt Kamil's long fingers thread through his hair and he cupped the blonde's head, bringing him closer, feeling an overwhelming tenderness as Kamil's lips traveled from his mouth to his cheek and neck. He kissed a torturously slow line of kisses down Kamil's neck, behind his ear, brushing the soft hair aside as Kamil tilted his head back, his lips parted slightly. They leaned back against the back of the couch, Bradley's arms tightening around Kamil's slim waist, pulling him tighter, feeling the little tremor as his kisses dipped lower to the base of Kamil's throat, dipping his tongue teasingly into the hollow of this throat.
"Let's go into the bedroom," he suggested breathlessly, and Kamil nodded. They fell onto the mattress but Bradley felt impelled to go slowly, he wanted to savor Kamil's every touch, every breath, every sensation. At the back of his consciousness, he knew Kamil needed to be reminded of his value after how he had been used as no more than a piece of meat by James Kendall and Bradley wanted to show him exactly how special he was to him. He gently pulled Kamil's shirt off, climbing astride him and covering his chest with kisses, circling each nipple with his tongue until he had Kamil squirming beneath him. Kamil tugged at the hem of his shirt so Bradley pulled it off, loving the feel of Kamil's fingers through his chest hair, brushing against his own nipples as Kamil's mouth fastened to his neck, biting and sucking then licking the skin there.
"You taste so good," Kamil breathed, "I love how you taste..."
Bradley's only reply was a moan and he moved down Kamil's smooth, taut stomach to unfasten his jeans. He didn't want to move too fast, he wanted to prolong this. Recently the mood of their lovemaking had been different, something Bradley now understood to be a result of what Kamil had been going through. It had been tense and almost frantic, less playful, but now they could go back to the lazy, indulgent all-day lovemaking that had marked their first few weeks together. Before unzipping Kamil's jeans he moved back up the blonde's body to kiss his lips again. Long, deep kisses, letting their tongues twine together, learning every nuance of each other's mouths.
Kamil's hands were on Bradley's back, traveling up and down his spine, lowering to cup his arse, squeezing him and pulling him against him.
"Bradley, I want you....." Kamil murmured around their kisses, "I need you.....,"
Bradley couldn't hold back any longer, he lowered Kamil's zipper, fingers trembling in their urgency, peeling the tight jeans down his lover's hips until they were kicked off even as his own jeans were being opened. Kamil's hand crept inside, closing around Bradley's length and he moaned at the sensation. Once they were both completely nude the physical sensation of skin against skin was excruciating, the heat and hardness of their arousal as they ground together almost enough to bring them to climax from that alone. Kissing his way down Kamil's body again, Bradley deliberately teased him with licks and kisses before he took him completely into his mouth, tasting the essence of the other man's excitement on his tongue as he cupped his firm buttocks.
Kamil moved against him, trying not to thrust so hard he would choke Bradley, and Bradley released him only to dip his tongue lower, circling the balls one by one then taking them each into his mouth. Kamil loved this, he knew, and he stroked the blonde to the very edge of orgasm before relenting.
Kamil let out a low whine, his hands in Bradley's hair, and as Bradley raised up again he felt Kamil slip the familiar tube of lubricant into his hand.
"Now, Bradley," Kamil whispered, "don't make me wait any longer."
Bradley wasn't small and as always he was careful to ensure Kamil was ready, but when they came together and he was looking down into those stormy gray eyes he had to force himself to slow down, to make it last as long as possible. Kamil crossed his ankles around Bradley's thighs, meeting every thrust perfectly, and then there was no way to hold back the tide. Kamil always maintained eye contact through the act, at least until orgasm took him away, and though Bradley had found this disconcerting at first, it was incredibly sensual. He was also quite vocal with murmurs, moans, gasps, and cries, but afterward they lay together quietly, still caught up in the phenomenal passion they had just experienced. They spent the remainder of the day in bed, alternately loving and talking, reconnecting after and becoming even closer.
On Sunday the two were in the living room, Kamil idly strumming on his acoustic as Bradley reclined on the couch reading a book on World War Two when a knock sounded at the door. They froze, looking at one another. No one ever came to the flat except utility readers and the postman. Bradley marked his place in the book and answered the door to find Harry Howell on the doorstep. He wouldn’t have been more surprised if it had been the Pope.
“Harry! Come in!”
Howell entered a bit awkwardly and Kamil laid his guitar aside, standing.
“Harry Howell, this is Kamil.” Bradley felt no other introduction was necessary. Howell briefly shook the hand Kamil offered.
“I wanted to let you both know that you need have no further worries about James Kendall. I left word that he wasn’t to be allowed in any of my clubs, and he showed up at one of the midtown places last night. When he was refused access he very stupidly tried to fight the bouncer and the police were called. They found a large amount of cocaine, ecstasy, and other drugs on him. He isn’t going to weasel his way out of this one, he’s going to be put away for a very long time.”
“Oh, thank God.” Kamil breathed, and Bradley echoed that. Howell nodded.
“I wanted to let you know personally.” He turned to leave, then caught sight of the line of electric guitars Kamil kept against one wall of the room. “Those are yours?” He shot Kamil a quick look.
Kamil nodded, and Howell walked over for a better look. “Is that a ‘62 Jazzmaster?”
“Yeah. I’ve had the pickups modified, though.” Kamil told him.
Howell reached for it, “May I?”
“Of course.” Kamil handed him the guitar. Howell looked it over and strummed it experimentally.
“I used to have one like this before I switched to playing bass. It’s in excellent condition.”
“Here, try it.” Kamil plugged the guitar in and switched on an amp. Howell perched on the edge of the couch and played a short piece flawlessly. Bradley had all but forgotten that Kamil mentioned he had once had his own band.
Kamil was telling him about how he had the pickups stacked and which strings he preferred and Bradley watched in some amusement as the two unlikely men connected. Harry Howell became animated when talking about music and accepted the beer Bradley offered him with a genuine smile. He was familiar in a general way with Blue Banshee, Kamil’s old band, and when he heard about Pandamonia he expressed considerable interest, recognizing the names of the other musicians from their former bands. He and Kamil didn’t exclude Bradley from their conversation but Bradley preferred to sit back and listen, he loved to hear how knowledgeable Kamil was and watched as Harry Howell seemed to almost visibly thaw as they talked.
“Why did you stop playing professionally?” he asked Harry out of curiosity.
Howell gave a half shrug. “After I bought my first club there just wasn’t time for both. Then Lisa was born and I bought more clubs and it just got pushed aside, I suppose. I still play at home to relax; I’ve built a small studio at the house just to mess around in.”
Howell stayed at the flat for over an hour. In the end, he and Kamil jammed on a couple of songs and after he left Kamil remarked that he seemed to be a nice guy.
“I suppose he is, if I look past the fact he tries to get too involved in my company.”
“I think maybe he’s just trying to find some kind of purpose, you know?” Kamil sat back down on the couch and accepted the beer Bradley handed him. “I’ve heard he was considered one of the best bassists in the country before he quit.”
Bradley smiled. It was so like Kamil to see the best in everyone.
Chapter Nine
The following weeks rekindled the joy Bradley and Kamil had shared before the shadow of James Kendall had fallen over their lives. The relief Kamil felt with the knowledge that that horrible man could never hurt either of them again was almost physical and he showed it with the unbridled enthusiasm he threw into everything he did. Bradley was realizing now how he had allowed himself to become duller and more humdrum than he had been aware but now, with Kamil in his life, his sense of fun had returned. He found himself more light-hearted than he had felt in years, laughing and enjoying even the most ordinary mundane things simply because of the man at his side.
Kamil was a free-spirited person and, as he had warned Bradley, he sometimes did simply wander off for walks at any hour of the day or night. Bradley was learning not to worry about this, it was simply his way of relaxing and collecting his thoughts. He always returned from these excursions with a sense of peace and Bradley had to learn to trust than Kamil was careful and could take care of himself, in spite of how protective Bradley felt toward him.
Bradley's business was picking up more contracts and both pilots were often busy flying several flights each day. Bradley found that he could rely on Denny more and more to take care of things at the office which freed him up to take some of the flights himself, lightening the burden on Aaron and Norm and also giving him some much-needed flight time. Harry Howell was keeping his input to a minimum and rarely visited the airfield, phoning occasionally to check in but offering fewer of the suggestions Bradley had found so intrusive. Bradley wasn't sure what was behind this change but he was happy about it. He felt more comfortable with Howell now but still preferred to run his business without the other man hovering over him.
