Page 42 of A Dream of Redemption
“Not well done of you, Clary. What sort of relationship can be built without truth?” He added, “Neither of us have anything to be ashamed of. We did what we needed to survive.”
Clary had often wondered if he’d tried hard enough. Not when he was a boy, but when he was older. He could have left and found different work if he’d been on his own but surviving with Simon, a child of only seven? He sat back down. “I tried to tell her but she didn’t want to know. She said if Marisa let me into her home that was good enough for her. She insisted only our future mattered.”
Simon sighed. “She has a point. I’ve been telling you for years that the past is best left buried behind us, trampled into the ground like the ashes of a campfire. But still, there will be plenty of others quite happy to tell her.”
Lord Fairfax’s face flashed before his eyes.
“I suggest you tell her before someone else does. I was too young for anyone to really remember me but you…Your face is one not easily forgotten.”
Clary knew Simon was right and that he would have to tell her. Only there really was no point if he decided not to risk them all and follow his heart. He, more than anyone, knew that wanting something badly enough did not mean it would be good for him.
Simon rose to make them supper and Clary sat dangling the brandy balloon glass in his hand. He had a decision to make, one that affected Helen and Simon too. All his previous life-changing decisions had not ended well for those he loved.
He thought about his life in the brothel, the men who had used him, and panic and bile rose from deep within his gut. He began to shake, and he could feel the brandy rising back up his throat. He wanted to rip his clothes off because having the cloth close to his skin reminded him of the hands that roamed his body even when his skin crawled at their touch. But they owned him. Bought and paid for. The fingers of those many, many men, who had explored every crevice of his body as if he were a piece of meat…he had wanted to break each and every bone of each finger.
It had taken him three months to numb his mind and body and soul to the men who sodomized him. He found if he relaxed and separated his mind from his body it hurt less. He would dream while they used him. Dream he was a prince and one day his father, the king, would come and rescue him. And then he would hunt down and extract revenge from those who had treated him so cruelly.
And yet today he’d met Fairfax in the park. A man who had taken his body however he’d liked, and Clary still could not retaliate. He had to stand facing him as if they were complete strangers enjoying a polite, civilized conversation when he’d really liked to have smashed his face to pieces and torn Fairfax’s heart from his chest. The anger still boiled in his soul and he hated himself. Hated the impotence he felt in his situation.
The pain and humiliation and disgust stayed with him, and Clary thought he might never lose the self-loathing that came with allowing men to use him.
He knew he’d never forgive himself for not protecting Simon. The panic of knowing that any day Simon would be put to work servicing clients had almost stopped his heart from beating. So he’d tried to find a way in which escape and survival were possible. As Simon had approached ten years of age, Clary had known he had to act and he made a plan to flee. His clients often secretly gave him coin and he’d saved it all. One night after he’d worked servicing men until dawn, he entered his room to find all the money he had hidden was gone.
Angelo had taken it. He’d known. Clary had sunk onto the floor in his room and cried and cried. The first time he’d cried since his first client.
And Angelo made him pay by making Simon take his first client the very next night.
Angelo had shown them both there would be no escape. Not until Her Grace arrived, Angelo was killed, and she took pity on two boys who to this day wondered why she had saved them.
Simon re-entered the room with bread, cheese, and an assortment of meats. His brother must have noted the look on his face. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t think about our past. It’s not your shame to carry; it’s Angelo’s and the men who paid to use us. Angelo’s rotting in hell and I won’t let my past define me.”
Simon had not experienced eight years of a living hell. Only a few months. He still could not understand how his brother could forgive him for not protecting him. He’d wanted to curl up and die the night Simon lost his innocence. Simon had become another person that night, and the way he’d looked at Clary—he’d known Simon would never forgive him and that’s what hurt the most.
“I ran into Fairfax today, and God forgive me I wanted to kill him but I didn’t. I should have.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You made a very wise decision. The only person you’d have hurt was yourself and men like Fairfax have hurt us enough.”
“Don’t you ever want to rail at the world? At the injustice of our lives?”
Simon was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded his head. “I did. Sometimes I still do, but I also thank God every day because he answered my prayers. He sent us Her Grace.”
Clary wished he could believe in God but his God had deserted him and left him to the mercy of those who had no mercy.
“That is why I have to be careful. Lady Helen is Her Grace’s sister and I can’t do anything that would disappoint or anger her.”
“There is one person who would give you advice.”
He’d just come to that conclusion. “His Grace.”
Simon nodded. “He will be fair and truthful.”
Clary nodded. Simon looked up to His Grace. Clary sometimes envied Simon’s worship of the Duke of Lyttleton. Simon would never look up to him that way. His Grace was the first man Simon had learned to trust and respect. He was a father figure to a boy who’d never known his father. He was the man who’d told Simon that his past was not his shame but the shame of the men who’d abused him. He’d told Clary the same thing, but Clary could not forget that he’d brought Simon into that world, be it by naivety. Guilt was something he lived with every day of his life, and he did not want to increase his guilt by doing anything that would destroy Helen.
“I’ll talk with His Grace tomorrow. And then I will make a decision.”
