Chapter 87 - Wavering Light
Continuing off where we left Hugh and Eric in the descending darkness...
Back to Chapter 86
Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the price is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you're never living twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life
If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?
And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
'If Today was your last day' Nickelback
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQyZBU28q88
Their camping place couldn't come soon enough as far as Hugh was concerned. He had been relieved to find that Bana didn't intend to continue the topic, not wanting anything else to add to the substantial weight of guilt that was already balancing precariously on his shoulders. One small puff and the whole lot would come crashing down, and he really didn't want to know what happened after that particular avalanche. At this point all he had to do was get the man to the boat, set sail, and then hand him over to the others as soon as he got there. All he had to do was focus on the task in hand. All he had to do was ...
Oh, fuck it. Hugh closed his eyes wearily, then opened them again as he guided the cart through the narrow valley, the wheels rumbling and bouncing on the uneven track as they travelled into the area where Hugh prayed they would be hidden overnight. He pulled up Duncan, the long suffering gelding, and breathed a sigh of relief as he surveyed the still-empty clearing. The area still looked as good as he had hoped, protected but not offering too much to possible ambushes, and far enough off the main track that they weren't going to attract too much attention. Slipping off the cart, he glanced once at Eric and decided to simply trust the man to stay where he had been put; Bana wasn't exactly in a position where he was likely to engage in acrobatics anyway.
Hugh moved swiftly to the rear of the wagon and took hold of the firewood he had prepared.
"Stay put for a moment," he said to Eric as he passed him. "Just until I get the fire going. I'll find you something to sit on too."
Jackman paused as he surveyed Bana's naked and no doubt cold chest, then nodded to himself. He was in this far, he might as well go the rest of the journey. "And you'll get your clothes back as well. I don't want you freezing to death,"
It was cooling down quite a lot, so more clothes would be welcome, but Eric had only been wearing his work shirt, which was pretty thin... and he had a hazy memory of Vin splitting it open and the buttons pinging off willy-nilly, now he thought about it.
"Cheers," he managed without much enthusiasm.
The thought of Vin made him think about Freeman's. He wondered if anyone had missed him yet, and how Vin was feeling. Blinking at that thought, he focused on the ache inside him that he hadn't given much thought to so far, and remembered how easily he'd given himself over to what the others had done in the early dawn, and how he'd let Vin fuck him. Fuck! What had possessed him? The idea of getting to do the same to Hugh, of course. What a fool he'd been!
"Tell me something?" he asked, turning to watch Hugh preparing the fire. "Did... Vin said... he told me... well, that you'd bottomed for him, and that you were keen... Was all that a lie to fool me into meeting you?"
Hugh had just finished setting up the fire and had been about to light it when Eric spoke. He glanced up in surprise at the question, then hesitated; Hugh knew that Vin had planned to be a little lenient on the truth to get Eric into the stables, although it seemed that the single digit that had breached him had managed to take on an interesting interpretation. Equally, it seemed clear that Eric had been left with completely unrealistic expectations of what was going to happen during their games, and Hugh wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted to add to the other man's misery by suggesting that he hadn't been the only one to lie on that day. The very least he could do was to make sure Eric's memories of his friends remained unsullied.
"Yes and no," he said quietly, adding a few more twigs and watching them be swallowed by the fire. "We'd slept together, yeah, and he did things to me that probably technically meant I bottomed, although we never got to full penetration. I've never bottomed in my life, mate, not properly. Still a virgin,"
Hugh watched the fire for a moment. "But I did tell him I might reconsider with you guys when we were in the stables together. He wasn't lying to you. As for me... well, I didn't know how it was gonna go,"
And God, had that been the truth. He stood up again and walked to the back of the wagon, taking out Eric's shirt and suddenly realising exactly how ruined the damned thing had managed to get during their activities. He shook his head ruefully. So much for warm clothing. Hugh studied the shirt for a moment, noting the rips and the button-less threads that told of rough handling in the height of passion, and smiled slightly to himself. What would that night have been like had they all gone there with one aim in mind? If the guilt and the tension had been replaced with thoughts of entirely a different nature...
He shook himself mentally and took hold of the long coat he had worn as a disguise, draping it over one shoulder as he walked back to the head of the cart. It would do to keep Bana warm, and the blankets plus fire would do the rest.
"Sorry for leading you on," Jackman said softly, holding out his hand to help Bana off the wagon. "I was more concerned about getting you out without injuries."
Using Hugh's hand to aid his descent, Eric managed to get off the wagon without too much fuss.
Without injuries? The knock to his head had been an accident, but still... All the same, Eric was finding Hugh's manner too hard to be completely angry with. It was disconcerting to actually like your 'enemy' as much as he did, even when Hugh had probably promised things he was doubtful about delivering.
Unsure what to even say now he had the 'truth', Eric eyed the items in Jackman's hands. "Am I allowed to be untied now, or you got some magical way to get those on me with the ropes still in place?"
"If you had given me a few moments I would have untied you," Hugh replied as patiently as he could. "Just don't play silly buggers, okay?"
He untied the rope and passed the man the ruined shirt and the thick coat before gesturing to the fireplace.
"Take a seat. I've got some blankets and a pillow for you to use overnight. Best to get some sleep before you're stuck on that boat for a long period, it gets a bit claustrophobic after a while." Or five minutes, but that wasn't tactful to say. Hugh waited until he was confident that Bana wasn't about to fall over from the drug or simple tiredness, then stepped away. A thought struck him, and he looked back at Eric in interest.
"You any good at cooking?"
Eric raised his brows as Hugh spoke. So he was going to be allowed a little more freedom. Good. There was hope for an opportunity to get away from him, if he could figure out where in hell they were headed, how far they'd come, and what he was likely to run into if he did manage to escape.
"Thank you," he murmured, putting the shirt on despite its obvious lack of buttons, and then gratefully slipping into the warmer coat and doing up a couple of buttons.
He headed towards the fire, then snorted back over his shoulder at the question, "You mean you don't have a gourmet chef tucked behind a rock somewhere? What needs cooking? I've been known to manage beans and coffee, but it's not exactly why I'm employed at... why I was employed at Freeman's."
"Beans and coffee in the same pot? Sounds exotic," Hugh replied solemnly, then gave him a little smile to show he was joking, and fetched the food supplies. "Mostly beans. There's a bit of bread and meat, but we'll have to eat that pretty quick otherwise it'll go off."
He tossed the bag to Bana, and went back to fetch the blankets and pillow. Hugh glanced at him as he set up the little bed.
"How's the head?"
"Ha ha," Eric almost laughed. It was hard to be angry with this bloke. "Head's been worse. Food'll help, I think."
Catching the bag deftly, Eric dug around inside and chose a loaf of bread and some dried beef, along with a couple of tins of every wanderer's ideal food: beans. There was an opener and a couple of pots to cook in, so he quickly got to work, digging around again once a pot full of beans was settled into a suitable-looking spot in the fire. Coffee! Yes, just what they probably both needed.
"You've got more water for the coffee?"
"Yeah. Hang on a tick." Hugh finished his task and returned to the cart where he fished out more water. After tending to the horse, he moved back to the fire and passed the water to Bana before sitting down and poking the fire.
"D'you need me to do anything, or do you have it in hand?" he offered, glancing to one side to observe the other man mess around with the pots and items.
"You could give me a horse," Eric muttered under his breath, but he shook his head, settling the pot with water for the coffee on the fire next to the other.
He located a couple of tin plates and some forks in the bag, and set them in the dirt. Once he'd judged the beans were hot enough, using the long sleeve on the coat to grab the pot handle, Eric pulled it out of the fire, and tipped beans onto each plate. Ripping some bread and plonking down some dried beef on each plate, he handed Hugh one plate and picked up the other.
"Bon Appétit. Real romantic, this, isn't it?"
Thinking as he began shovelling food in, Eric decided to see how much he could find out about what Lucelli had threatened Hugh with. After all, Eric had better connections now than when he'd run away from Australia. Maybe he could convince Jackman that they could do something about Lucelli's threats, with some help from Mr. Freeman and Mr. Bean etcetera.
"I'm betting Lucelli threatened your family, right? Is there many of them? You got a wife and kids back there?"
Not only was he trying to find out all he could about Hugh in order to try and convince him to help Eric, he had to admit he was curious. Did Hugh screw around with men on the side, or was this completely new for him?
Hugh glanced up at the question, surprised. He finished his mouthful of beans, although he couldn't quite stop the little snort of amusement from escaping. Oh yeah, the wife and kids had once been on the schedule, but that had slowly been rewritten as Colin had increasingly become his partner of choice. And hell, he couldn't exactly see a wife being too pleased with his main source of dubiously-acquired income.
"I don't have a wife. Might have some kids somewhere about, but if I don't know about them, then your mate isn't likely to either." Hugh poked the beans with his fork as though they might scuttle away unless they were herded.
"My mother and my sisters, though... they relied on my money and at the moment they're doing well. But if I failed to do what I was sent to do, or at least to have the bad grace not to die attempting it, it was made perfectly clear that this would change." The beans were subjected to further poking. Hugh sighed softly, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "I had a best mate. We did everything together: work, play, talk, live. Would have died for him... if your friend hadn't made sure Colin died for me instead."
Eric stared back sadly. So Hugh had had a lover-a best mate he said, but the way he spoke of him, Eric knew exactly how close they had to have been-and somehow Lucelli had done something to cause his death, if not actually killed him.
"He wasn't my 'friend'," was all Eric could think of to say. It hardly seemed worth going into how little Lucelli had thought of him, even before the whole thing with Jesse. Just because he'd married the boss's daughter didn't mean the boss actually liked him.
Hugh's eyes were distant as he poked the beans, his hunger vanishing as his mind replayed the moment over in his head, unwanted and unbidden, but so damned vivid that it made his hand shake slightly as he tormented his food; the shot followed by the heavy thud as Colin's body struck the dusty floor... his own anguished cry in the far too empt wilderness as he watched Colin's life blood begin to pool over thirsty ground that sucked it up so greedily. It had all seemed so real, as though the colours had somehow been sharpened. He could still see the glint on the barrel of the guns, the scuff marks on battered leather boots, the foam from the horse's mouths and the blood, oh, too much blood, glittering in the sun like it was made of molten ruby. They had always talked about the possibility of being fatally injured, but he had never realised how dark the blood would seem. Perhaps the ground would still bear the statement of Colin's life, a smudge in the landscape and the only headstone the man possessed unless he returned.
Hugh was silent for a few more moments as his mind dwelled over things he never wanted to remember, his dark eyes raising to study the other man in front of him as another uncomfortable thought struck. Vin had thought highly of this man, he knew. Very highly. There had been fondness and near adoration in his voice whenever he spoke of Eric. Jackman felt a sick, heavy feeling enter his stomach as he looked at the other man. What was he doing? Was he doing to Vin what the two bastards in Australia had done to him with Colin? Did Eric have someone else? Could he truly look at himself in the mirror each day with the knowledge he had helped put another man to death and his partner through the nightmares that he himself had suffered?
"Did the members of Freeman's know you were likely to get people hunting you when they offered you safety?" he asked instead, unable to voice the additional fears that had been building.
"No." Eric shook his head, and concentrated back on his beans. Hugh's raw pain regarding Colin was hard to take. "Mr. Freeman knew I'd left Australia under a cloud, and a few of them know... well, never mind... but in all honesty..." He looked up again as he paused. "I haven't told too many people the whole story, and I never actually thought Lucelli would bother looking for me once I was out of his hair."
Well, not much. No doubt there were one or two reasons why Lucelli would make the effort, the very least of which was probably Jenny. Hugh hadn't asked about the money or anything else, so Eric was beginning to think he might not know. Did Lucelli know he'd have the ring on him all the time? It probably was his best bargaining chip, and maybe that's why he hadn't sold it. The rest of the money was long since gone.
"I'm sorry about your mate," he added softly, as Hugh's eyes didn't seem to get any happier. "And you know... if you took me back, I'm sure Mr. Freeman would have some idea what we could do about your mother and sisters. He's a resourceful man, and with his and Mr. Bean's connections..." he trailed off, looking away into the night.
He wasn't really sure they'd help, even if they could. Hugh's family was in Australia, Lucelli practically owned the state, and Eric hadn't exactly made Mr. Marton aware that he was a wanted man.
"Hmmmmm," Hugh made a non-committal noise and poked the beans a little more, putting the plate down before it tipped over entirely. There were some conversations that food didn't need to get involved with. Instead he stared at the fire, chewing things over in his mind. The confusion was so damned loud now, conflicting needs fighting within him. He needed to get back to help Colin, and his family. He needed to remain sane. He needed his home. He needed not to be a murderous traitor. He needed to get Bana back to his friends. Hugh needed to live.
But at what cost?
"I'm sure Mr. Freeman and Mr. Bean are well connected here, but there's not much they're gonna be able to do so far away." he said reluctantly. "Anyway, that's not gonna solve your problem. If I can track you down, so can someone else, and trust me, this bloke really wants your hide. This isn't something you can pay back or smooth over with a heartfelt apology, if you get my meaning. He's already spent a ton hunting you down, and unless something else seriously big grabs his attention, he's gonna continue until he's got what he wants. Your hide on his wooden floor as a rug."
Unable to think without his hands doing something, Hugh picked up a long stick and began to poke the fire instead of the beans. He had never believed the money theory he had been fed, the theft being annoying but not worth this level of vengeance, and revenge had a nasty habit of growing bigger and bigger with each year that passed unless 'justice' was seen to be done. He sighed internally. God, if only he had Colin with him... Colin would have known what to do, what plan to try. Farrell had been the plotter, the guy who came up with the bones of the scheme. Hugh just manipulated and followed and ...
Jackman's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him and slowly began to take shape. It was risky, but if Marton's influence was as Bana maintained...
He poked the fire again in agitation. If he did it, that was it. He could never go home again. He could never go back to find Colin, and never give him the burial he needed. But what was home if he couldn't think about what he had done, or meet his own gaze in the mirror? Was his home worth enough to help murder a man who had never done him any harm and who could have easily tried to attack him already? Hugh's eyes grew distant again as he looked into the leaping flames of the fire, remembering Colin's deep brown mischievous eyes, his strong body, and his infectious 'whoops, what did I just do' laugh. But then there were his morals; there would be no question in Colin's heart in this situation, Hugh knew. You could excuse the naughty behaviour, but there were some lines that could never be crossed. Some costs never got repaid.
Poke, poke, poke went the stick. His head hurt. His heart was confused. And his stomach wasn't entirely sure it was coping with either beans or coffee. Hugh tried to focus on the important, structural stuff. His possible plan would depend on co-operation from the household if he did it, and there was absolutely no guarantee that this would be provided. Sure, Bana had vouched for the house's helpfulness, but then again Hugh had no doubt the man would have said such things regardless of the truth. In hard times, you said whatever you needed to in order to get out. He would have done exactly the same himself.
"I snuck into your club and stole you from under the noses of your friends," Hugh said softly, subjecting the fire to more poking. "Why would your Mr. Freeman want to help me?"
What could Eric say to all that? He poked at his own plate a little and then put it down too. "Look, I'm pretty sure Lucelli's more concerned about getting his valuables back than he is about having me spread out on his floor. He thinks I'm a degenerate sodomite and he wouldn't want me within ten miles of his son and daughter after what happened... even if he does want me flayed. You could take back the goods and tell him I met a nasty end. Mr. Freeman and everyone else at the house would back you up..."
Eric's eyes met Hugh's briefly before he continued. "Mr. Freeman is a generous man. He, and everyone at the house, believe everyone should have a chance to be themselves and have as good a life as possible, no matter who they love.
"If you cared about your mate as much as it seems, then it's pretty obvious you're exactly the sort of man Mr. Freeman set up the Gentlemen's Club to cater for. You did this because you felt you had no choice; you were press-ganged into it, in a manner of speaking. Come back with me, and I promise you, I'll convince him to help you. It won't be as hard as you think."
His voice was low but steady, and he offered the advice with his full heart, meaning every word. If Hugh wasn't spinning a lie this time - and Eric sincerely believed he was telling the truth; surely, his eyes couldn't lie that well - then he would do everything in his power to make things work out. And he knew Marton would see what Eric had.
Offering Hugh another careful look, Eric reached for the coffee pot, and dragged it away from the fire. Dropping his eyes to follow his own movements as he poured out the coffee, he hoped like hell Hugh would be convinced.
"Couldn't go back with a tale." Hugh shook his head, trying not to think of the Freeman's element yet. "It's not just the theft he's got himself in a knot about, it's the insult. If I turn up there without either you living or dead, then I might as well start running in the opposite direction now. I'm a thief and a con artist, and he knows it. Wouldn't be any skin off my nose to nick your pretty little bauble and then make up some wonderful story about how you ended up splattered. The ring'll make him happy, but this guy's gone through a lot to get you back. If there's even a hint of you living happily ever after, then he's gonna do his nut. You may want to take the risk, but I wouldn't and I doubt whether your pals at the house would either. Would draw too much attention to them."
Hugh's eyes were darker as the light began to dwindle, his shoulders hunched as he heard his own voice set out the terms of his exile. Could he honestly go through with it? Could he honestly not? He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes unfaltering as he stared back at the fire. If he couldn't put the man on the boat then he couldn't return either, there was no question of that. Rich Bastard was not going to let him squirm off the hook with a tale and a smile, not after this strength of anger. But what he might have lost in his home, he may well gain in peaceful sleep.
"But I've got another way along the same lines, though," Hugh said slowly. "Be more extreme, though, and I'll need your friends."
He sighed through his teeth and poked the fire once more, sending a log crackling into ash.
"There's a boat I used to get here and I'm supposed to use to get back again," he said reluctantly. "Captain's under the employment of you know who, so he could turn a blind eye if you were a little more banged up than the usual passengers, if you get my drift. Guess it wouldn't be too unexpected that I would arrange a messenger in the case of my death to send back a note, plus that ring you nicked from the family, detailing a little tale of what I've done. What would be needed is a report from your copper mate--Nick, was it?--to say in police terms that we both died in 'Boss approved' circumstances. Could be that we were caught coming out of the city and got into a firefight... You got hit in the crossfire and I just got shot in the head. Police identify the bodies, close the case, and tidy everything up. Not gonna be worth his time to send someone over to get your carcass over there, and it's gonna be better than me looking all sweet and innocent as I try to lie through my teeth without getting a bullet in my guts for my troubles."
His eyes slid across to study Eric, trying to judge his body language and expression. Would the man exchange the favour of deceit and simply tell him what Hugh wanted to hear? Finally, Jackman leaned back and threw a stick into the fire. It didn't matter if he was. He couldn't be a part in this man's death.
"But I'll take you back tomorrow, regardless."
Eric blinked several times, unsure if he was hearing correctly. After going to all this trouble to get Eric out, Hugh was just going to turn around and take him back? Just like that? Whether or not Eric agreed to Hugh's plan? It all seemed a bit sudden, and Eric wasn't sure if he could trust the man. After all, he'd admitted he was a con artist.
But, on the other hand, why admit that if he was trying to fool Eric? What purpose would the admission serve, and why lie about taking him back if he'd got this far? He had been forced into this, after all, if his words could be trusted.
Perhaps it was as simple as him having a change of heart. The haunted look in his eyes didn't seem faked, and Eric was beginning to feel that although Jackman might be a 'thief and a con artist', he was clearly less than comfortable with being a party to what he probably imagined would end up as murder.
Handing Hugh his coffee, Eric held his own, warming his hands as he considered the plan. Marton would certainly go along with some kind of charade to keep Eric out of trouble, he was fairly sure, and it wasn't too much of stretch to believe that he'd include Hugh in that if necessary. Protecting the man's family in Australia somehow if Hugh didn't complete the job he was sent to do seemed a lot harder, but if Lucelli thought he was dead... he'd have no reason to go after Hugh's relatives.
As for Nick... he was a sodomite too, breaking one of the laws he was supposed to uphold. If he wouldn't agree to help simply because he'd save two men from a likely death-because frankly, Eric couldn't see how Lucelli would simply let Hugh go once he had Eric; too many loose ends and it would be a service in Lucelli's mind if he got rid of another bush-ranger that the cops hadn't got to yet-then there was always blackmail.
It wasn't going to be an easy job though; Hugh was right. They'd need help from Freeman's inhabitants, and it would have to be worked out just so, in order to convince Lucelli... but it might just work.
He finally looked at Hugh and nodded. "I think your plan might hold water."
Hugh chuckled softly, and looked down at his mug.
"You're being generous. It's fucking terrible, but I can't think of anything else that's gonna stop them coming after both of us. Ship's not gonna sink conveniently, after all." He took a mouthful of coffee, and put the mug down to prowl around the fire in a sudden but urgent need to move. There had been a strange sense of solid relief as soon as he had said the words, but simply saying that he was taking the guy back to his friends wasn't exactly the end of it. He looked towards the route that led to the ship, then groaned softly and ran his hand through his hair once more. Jesus, what a mess.
"D'you miss it?" he asked, still looking towards an invisible far away ship and the seas. "Australia."
It probably was fucking terrible, but it was better than no ideas at all. If Hugh wasn't just leading Eric up the garden path again, they'd make it work somehow.
"Miss it?" Eric repeated, looking up at Hugh's back as he pondered the question. "Sometimes; when I think about the people I left behind. Not all of them, of course," he added with a snort. "Lucelli for one, although his daughter... Jenny was my wife and I did love her... no matter what he might've told you. I never meant to hurt her, but..." He shrugged, unable to finish.
He didn't really want to get into what had happened with Jesse right now, nor think about how the ache he always felt when he thought about him too much was threatening to surface right now. Pushing the pointless thoughts away, he sipped at the hot drink, then turned the subject back on Hugh. "What about you? Will you miss it if you can't go back?"
"Yeah," Hugh replied softly. "It's my home. Everywhere else is just..."
He trailed off, uncertain on how to end that particular sentence. Finally he shrugged, mostly to himself. Everywhere else was just a place. Australia was home. It called to him, the beauty and the deadliness, and nowhere compared to it. When he was in the Outback, he felt a part of something much bigger than himself. Australia complimented him, supported him and relaxed him, even during the hardest of times. Here he was a fish out of water, an outsider wary of his new surroundings, although if he was lucky he might avoid the fisherman's club to finish him off.
Hugh closed his eyes and growled softly to himself. Jesus, he was going to have to stop with the poncy romance. He was in this situation because he had sleepwalked into it through grief and uncertainity, and then hadn't the strength to fight the knowledge that the task he had been given was wrong. The situation was as it was, and there was nothing he could do to change it without adding unnecessary risks or knocking Bana out again to drag him to the boat.
"I take it Jenny was the source of the disgrace to the family," he commented finally. "Always did think murder and kidnap was a bit much for a simple theft, even if it was something shiny."
He glanced at Bana curiously. "When you say 'hurt' her, I'm assuming you're not talking the physical side, yeah? You don't look the sort."
"Yeah." Eric nodded in sympathy to the obvious sadness Hugh was feeling for what was essentially going to be the loss of his home, if their 'plan' worked. "Everywhere else... yeah."
Eric's gut tightened at Hugh's question. So Lucelli hadn't told him the full story. Shaking his head, Eric answered, "No, not physical; I couldn't ever hit a woman. But..." Eric still wasn't sure he wanted to get into this territory, but he probably should say something. "Let's just say I let her down. I embarrassed her and hurt her by doing something I really shouldn't have done... and, well... she told her father, who really didn't like what he heard.
"I didn't have much choice but to leave in a hurry, and I made the mistake of taking not only money, but the wedding ring I should have handed back. It's a family heirloom and worth quite a bit. Goes back generations. Dumb, but... I just... forgot, more than meant to take it." He shrugged again, scratching at his beard.
"Okay. Good. Didn't think you seemed like the type, which was half the problem." Hugh sighed, but felt another weight lift from his shoulders. Some bastards were obvious, but some bastards were snakes under rocks, unseen until they struck out to sink fangs into an unwary leg. Eric had never seemed the type to be the dangerous sort, but then that was what made the threat so damned dangerous in the first place. He glanced at Bana, and hastened to explain. "When I set out, I assumed you were gonna be... different. A bastard. Someone like Lucelli, just coming from a different angle. Not that I had a huge choice of course, but it made a difference. For a bloke who works in a brothel, you're bloody innocent."
He ran his hand through his hair again and let it drop wearily. So incredibly innocent. Truth be told, if the man was as dangerous as Hugh was hoping for, the damned plan wouldn't have worked in the first place.
"If it helps, I think the ring was just the icing on the cake. He'd have come after your hide regardless." Jackman gave him a sideways glance. "That is, if the embarrassment wasn't something minor like really poor dancing at your wedding."
Eric coloured slightly, but said nothing about the whole embarrassing affair. "I'm not that bloody innocent," he snorted. "And thanks; I'm so glad you don't think I'm a bastard. Not that Lucelli would agree."
He paused, sipping at his cooling coffee and frowning over the cup. "You know it was more than bad dancing. I..." He huffed out a breath as he paused again. Hugh had to have guessed at least part of it. Eric had already told him Lucelli thought he was a 'degenerate sodomite'. "Why do you think I ended up in a male brothel, fucking men?"
"Fairy godmother?" Hugh replied, straight faced, then smiled slightly. "So, she walked in on you and the stable-hand having unexpected close encounters? And you are that innocent. You trust people. You have that puppy dog bewildered expression when things don't turn out fine."
It was hard not to laugh slightly at the 'Fairy Godmother' remark, even in the face of their situation.
"Wasn't quite the stable-hand..." Eric muttered, then half-growled, "and I don't need you to bloody start on the puppy-dog references, thanks."
Tossing the remains of his coffee in the dirt, he put it down next to the half-eaten dinner on his plate. Rubbing his arms, he drew the coat closer. "Gonna be cold tonight. Autumn's cooler here than home."
"You're right though; I shouldn't trust people so easily. Look what happened... I was a perfect innocent about sodomy before I met Jesse... Shit. Ah, fuck it, you may as well know. It's not like it's that big a damned secret any more, anyway.
"Jesse was Jenny's twin brother. And that's the reason Lucelli's really got it in for me; not just because I'm a sodomite who got caught in bed with some 'stable-hand'. He thinks I corrupted his son. Jesse, his pride and joy-sick little fuck-had the nerve to seduce me, then when we got caught, insisted to 'daddy' that he didn't know anything about 'the perverted ways of men' and that I'd been the one to get into his pants.
"The little shit abandoned me; not that he even cared in the first place. I was just another fuck; just another 'toy' to steal from his pretty sister, like he'd been doing all his life. The worst thing was... I actually cared. What kind of fucking innocent fool does that make me?" Eric swallowed hard, and then sniffed angrily.
"But hey..." He waved a hand vaguely and stood up. "Tomorrow's another day, eh? No point in dwelling on the past. We should get some sleep, yeah? Long way back tomorrow?" he queried, still unsure how far they'd actually come.
Hugh glanced at him sympathetically, but allowed the man his silence over the topic. Confusion in sexuality he could understand and appreciate; Jackman could remember the panic and discomfort he himself had encountered with Colin, and that was without any fears on trust. Colin had loved and supported him without question, allowing him to develop as he had wished. Without that... yeah, he could probably end up in a brothel himself. Hugh gently rested his hand on Bana's shoulders as he moved back to the main fire, giving him a little squeeze of support before withdrawing it just in case he caused Eric to be more unnerved than comforted. People who had been kidnapped and dragged out into the wilderness tended not to want much physical contact unless they had a seriously burning need.
"It'll probably take a day to get back," he said instead, walking to the wagon and getting another blanket. Jackman walked back and passed it to Eric. "That bedroll over there is for you, when you want to go to sleep. Just check the blankets before you get in... don't want anything uninvited sneaking in."
Hugh sat back down on the log next to the fire, and poked it once more in case it had managed to get lonely in the short period he had left it.
"As for what sort of guy it makes you," he said quietly, watching the flames as they licked over the wooden fuel. "Yeah, you think the best of people, but that's not exactly a bad thing. The world's nasty enough without immediately seeing the darkness. Anyway, you have your friends."
He stared into the fire as he spoke, feeling the numbness begin to take him over once more. Was he making a mistake even now? Were they too far along to even attempt going back? Perhaps he should simply accept the fact that a change of heart should have occurred a long time ago and have a bit of strength when it came to carrying out the more unpleasant tasks. Colin always did used to joke he was an old softie, but then was this just being soft or a bit of compassion? Hugh ran his free hand through his hair and sighed to himself, poking the fire again and causing a lump of wood to slide further into the heart of the flames accompanied by a crackle of outrage.
They had the night to think things over, after all. And if they were lucky, they'd see the dawn as well.
Word Count: ~6545
Back to Chapter 86
Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the price is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you're never living twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life
If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?
And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
'If Today was your last day' Nickelback
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQyZBU28q88
Their camping place couldn't come soon enough as far as Hugh was concerned. He had been relieved to find that Bana didn't intend to continue the topic, not wanting anything else to add to the substantial weight of guilt that was already balancing precariously on his shoulders. One small puff and the whole lot would come crashing down, and he really didn't want to know what happened after that particular avalanche. At this point all he had to do was get the man to the boat, set sail, and then hand him over to the others as soon as he got there. All he had to do was focus on the task in hand. All he had to do was ...
Oh, fuck it. Hugh closed his eyes wearily, then opened them again as he guided the cart through the narrow valley, the wheels rumbling and bouncing on the uneven track as they travelled into the area where Hugh prayed they would be hidden overnight. He pulled up Duncan, the long suffering gelding, and breathed a sigh of relief as he surveyed the still-empty clearing. The area still looked as good as he had hoped, protected but not offering too much to possible ambushes, and far enough off the main track that they weren't going to attract too much attention. Slipping off the cart, he glanced once at Eric and decided to simply trust the man to stay where he had been put; Bana wasn't exactly in a position where he was likely to engage in acrobatics anyway.
Hugh moved swiftly to the rear of the wagon and took hold of the firewood he had prepared.
"Stay put for a moment," he said to Eric as he passed him. "Just until I get the fire going. I'll find you something to sit on too."
Jackman paused as he surveyed Bana's naked and no doubt cold chest, then nodded to himself. He was in this far, he might as well go the rest of the journey. "And you'll get your clothes back as well. I don't want you freezing to death,"
It was cooling down quite a lot, so more clothes would be welcome, but Eric had only been wearing his work shirt, which was pretty thin... and he had a hazy memory of Vin splitting it open and the buttons pinging off willy-nilly, now he thought about it.
"Cheers," he managed without much enthusiasm.
The thought of Vin made him think about Freeman's. He wondered if anyone had missed him yet, and how Vin was feeling. Blinking at that thought, he focused on the ache inside him that he hadn't given much thought to so far, and remembered how easily he'd given himself over to what the others had done in the early dawn, and how he'd let Vin fuck him. Fuck! What had possessed him? The idea of getting to do the same to Hugh, of course. What a fool he'd been!
"Tell me something?" he asked, turning to watch Hugh preparing the fire. "Did... Vin said... he told me... well, that you'd bottomed for him, and that you were keen... Was all that a lie to fool me into meeting you?"
Hugh had just finished setting up the fire and had been about to light it when Eric spoke. He glanced up in surprise at the question, then hesitated; Hugh knew that Vin had planned to be a little lenient on the truth to get Eric into the stables, although it seemed that the single digit that had breached him had managed to take on an interesting interpretation. Equally, it seemed clear that Eric had been left with completely unrealistic expectations of what was going to happen during their games, and Hugh wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted to add to the other man's misery by suggesting that he hadn't been the only one to lie on that day. The very least he could do was to make sure Eric's memories of his friends remained unsullied.
"Yes and no," he said quietly, adding a few more twigs and watching them be swallowed by the fire. "We'd slept together, yeah, and he did things to me that probably technically meant I bottomed, although we never got to full penetration. I've never bottomed in my life, mate, not properly. Still a virgin,"
Hugh watched the fire for a moment. "But I did tell him I might reconsider with you guys when we were in the stables together. He wasn't lying to you. As for me... well, I didn't know how it was gonna go,"
And God, had that been the truth. He stood up again and walked to the back of the wagon, taking out Eric's shirt and suddenly realising exactly how ruined the damned thing had managed to get during their activities. He shook his head ruefully. So much for warm clothing. Hugh studied the shirt for a moment, noting the rips and the button-less threads that told of rough handling in the height of passion, and smiled slightly to himself. What would that night have been like had they all gone there with one aim in mind? If the guilt and the tension had been replaced with thoughts of entirely a different nature...
He shook himself mentally and took hold of the long coat he had worn as a disguise, draping it over one shoulder as he walked back to the head of the cart. It would do to keep Bana warm, and the blankets plus fire would do the rest.
"Sorry for leading you on," Jackman said softly, holding out his hand to help Bana off the wagon. "I was more concerned about getting you out without injuries."
Using Hugh's hand to aid his descent, Eric managed to get off the wagon without too much fuss.
Without injuries? The knock to his head had been an accident, but still... All the same, Eric was finding Hugh's manner too hard to be completely angry with. It was disconcerting to actually like your 'enemy' as much as he did, even when Hugh had probably promised things he was doubtful about delivering.
Unsure what to even say now he had the 'truth', Eric eyed the items in Jackman's hands. "Am I allowed to be untied now, or you got some magical way to get those on me with the ropes still in place?"
"If you had given me a few moments I would have untied you," Hugh replied as patiently as he could. "Just don't play silly buggers, okay?"
He untied the rope and passed the man the ruined shirt and the thick coat before gesturing to the fireplace.
"Take a seat. I've got some blankets and a pillow for you to use overnight. Best to get some sleep before you're stuck on that boat for a long period, it gets a bit claustrophobic after a while." Or five minutes, but that wasn't tactful to say. Hugh waited until he was confident that Bana wasn't about to fall over from the drug or simple tiredness, then stepped away. A thought struck him, and he looked back at Eric in interest.
"You any good at cooking?"
Eric raised his brows as Hugh spoke. So he was going to be allowed a little more freedom. Good. There was hope for an opportunity to get away from him, if he could figure out where in hell they were headed, how far they'd come, and what he was likely to run into if he did manage to escape.
"Thank you," he murmured, putting the shirt on despite its obvious lack of buttons, and then gratefully slipping into the warmer coat and doing up a couple of buttons.
He headed towards the fire, then snorted back over his shoulder at the question, "You mean you don't have a gourmet chef tucked behind a rock somewhere? What needs cooking? I've been known to manage beans and coffee, but it's not exactly why I'm employed at... why I was employed at Freeman's."
"Beans and coffee in the same pot? Sounds exotic," Hugh replied solemnly, then gave him a little smile to show he was joking, and fetched the food supplies. "Mostly beans. There's a bit of bread and meat, but we'll have to eat that pretty quick otherwise it'll go off."
He tossed the bag to Bana, and went back to fetch the blankets and pillow. Hugh glanced at him as he set up the little bed.
"How's the head?"
"Ha ha," Eric almost laughed. It was hard to be angry with this bloke. "Head's been worse. Food'll help, I think."
Catching the bag deftly, Eric dug around inside and chose a loaf of bread and some dried beef, along with a couple of tins of every wanderer's ideal food: beans. There was an opener and a couple of pots to cook in, so he quickly got to work, digging around again once a pot full of beans was settled into a suitable-looking spot in the fire. Coffee! Yes, just what they probably both needed.
"You've got more water for the coffee?"
"Yeah. Hang on a tick." Hugh finished his task and returned to the cart where he fished out more water. After tending to the horse, he moved back to the fire and passed the water to Bana before sitting down and poking the fire.
"D'you need me to do anything, or do you have it in hand?" he offered, glancing to one side to observe the other man mess around with the pots and items.
"You could give me a horse," Eric muttered under his breath, but he shook his head, settling the pot with water for the coffee on the fire next to the other.
He located a couple of tin plates and some forks in the bag, and set them in the dirt. Once he'd judged the beans were hot enough, using the long sleeve on the coat to grab the pot handle, Eric pulled it out of the fire, and tipped beans onto each plate. Ripping some bread and plonking down some dried beef on each plate, he handed Hugh one plate and picked up the other.
"Bon Appétit. Real romantic, this, isn't it?"
Thinking as he began shovelling food in, Eric decided to see how much he could find out about what Lucelli had threatened Hugh with. After all, Eric had better connections now than when he'd run away from Australia. Maybe he could convince Jackman that they could do something about Lucelli's threats, with some help from Mr. Freeman and Mr. Bean etcetera.
"I'm betting Lucelli threatened your family, right? Is there many of them? You got a wife and kids back there?"
Not only was he trying to find out all he could about Hugh in order to try and convince him to help Eric, he had to admit he was curious. Did Hugh screw around with men on the side, or was this completely new for him?
Hugh glanced up at the question, surprised. He finished his mouthful of beans, although he couldn't quite stop the little snort of amusement from escaping. Oh yeah, the wife and kids had once been on the schedule, but that had slowly been rewritten as Colin had increasingly become his partner of choice. And hell, he couldn't exactly see a wife being too pleased with his main source of dubiously-acquired income.
"I don't have a wife. Might have some kids somewhere about, but if I don't know about them, then your mate isn't likely to either." Hugh poked the beans with his fork as though they might scuttle away unless they were herded.
"My mother and my sisters, though... they relied on my money and at the moment they're doing well. But if I failed to do what I was sent to do, or at least to have the bad grace not to die attempting it, it was made perfectly clear that this would change." The beans were subjected to further poking. Hugh sighed softly, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "I had a best mate. We did everything together: work, play, talk, live. Would have died for him... if your friend hadn't made sure Colin died for me instead."
Eric stared back sadly. So Hugh had had a lover-a best mate he said, but the way he spoke of him, Eric knew exactly how close they had to have been-and somehow Lucelli had done something to cause his death, if not actually killed him.
"He wasn't my 'friend'," was all Eric could think of to say. It hardly seemed worth going into how little Lucelli had thought of him, even before the whole thing with Jesse. Just because he'd married the boss's daughter didn't mean the boss actually liked him.
Hugh's eyes were distant as he poked the beans, his hunger vanishing as his mind replayed the moment over in his head, unwanted and unbidden, but so damned vivid that it made his hand shake slightly as he tormented his food; the shot followed by the heavy thud as Colin's body struck the dusty floor... his own anguished cry in the far too empt wilderness as he watched Colin's life blood begin to pool over thirsty ground that sucked it up so greedily. It had all seemed so real, as though the colours had somehow been sharpened. He could still see the glint on the barrel of the guns, the scuff marks on battered leather boots, the foam from the horse's mouths and the blood, oh, too much blood, glittering in the sun like it was made of molten ruby. They had always talked about the possibility of being fatally injured, but he had never realised how dark the blood would seem. Perhaps the ground would still bear the statement of Colin's life, a smudge in the landscape and the only headstone the man possessed unless he returned.
Hugh was silent for a few more moments as his mind dwelled over things he never wanted to remember, his dark eyes raising to study the other man in front of him as another uncomfortable thought struck. Vin had thought highly of this man, he knew. Very highly. There had been fondness and near adoration in his voice whenever he spoke of Eric. Jackman felt a sick, heavy feeling enter his stomach as he looked at the other man. What was he doing? Was he doing to Vin what the two bastards in Australia had done to him with Colin? Did Eric have someone else? Could he truly look at himself in the mirror each day with the knowledge he had helped put another man to death and his partner through the nightmares that he himself had suffered?
"Did the members of Freeman's know you were likely to get people hunting you when they offered you safety?" he asked instead, unable to voice the additional fears that had been building.
"No." Eric shook his head, and concentrated back on his beans. Hugh's raw pain regarding Colin was hard to take. "Mr. Freeman knew I'd left Australia under a cloud, and a few of them know... well, never mind... but in all honesty..." He looked up again as he paused. "I haven't told too many people the whole story, and I never actually thought Lucelli would bother looking for me once I was out of his hair."
Well, not much. No doubt there were one or two reasons why Lucelli would make the effort, the very least of which was probably Jenny. Hugh hadn't asked about the money or anything else, so Eric was beginning to think he might not know. Did Lucelli know he'd have the ring on him all the time? It probably was his best bargaining chip, and maybe that's why he hadn't sold it. The rest of the money was long since gone.
"I'm sorry about your mate," he added softly, as Hugh's eyes didn't seem to get any happier. "And you know... if you took me back, I'm sure Mr. Freeman would have some idea what we could do about your mother and sisters. He's a resourceful man, and with his and Mr. Bean's connections..." he trailed off, looking away into the night.
He wasn't really sure they'd help, even if they could. Hugh's family was in Australia, Lucelli practically owned the state, and Eric hadn't exactly made Mr. Marton aware that he was a wanted man.
"Hmmmmm," Hugh made a non-committal noise and poked the beans a little more, putting the plate down before it tipped over entirely. There were some conversations that food didn't need to get involved with. Instead he stared at the fire, chewing things over in his mind. The confusion was so damned loud now, conflicting needs fighting within him. He needed to get back to help Colin, and his family. He needed to remain sane. He needed his home. He needed not to be a murderous traitor. He needed to get Bana back to his friends. Hugh needed to live.
But at what cost?
"I'm sure Mr. Freeman and Mr. Bean are well connected here, but there's not much they're gonna be able to do so far away." he said reluctantly. "Anyway, that's not gonna solve your problem. If I can track you down, so can someone else, and trust me, this bloke really wants your hide. This isn't something you can pay back or smooth over with a heartfelt apology, if you get my meaning. He's already spent a ton hunting you down, and unless something else seriously big grabs his attention, he's gonna continue until he's got what he wants. Your hide on his wooden floor as a rug."
Unable to think without his hands doing something, Hugh picked up a long stick and began to poke the fire instead of the beans. He had never believed the money theory he had been fed, the theft being annoying but not worth this level of vengeance, and revenge had a nasty habit of growing bigger and bigger with each year that passed unless 'justice' was seen to be done. He sighed internally. God, if only he had Colin with him... Colin would have known what to do, what plan to try. Farrell had been the plotter, the guy who came up with the bones of the scheme. Hugh just manipulated and followed and ...
Jackman's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him and slowly began to take shape. It was risky, but if Marton's influence was as Bana maintained...
He poked the fire again in agitation. If he did it, that was it. He could never go home again. He could never go back to find Colin, and never give him the burial he needed. But what was home if he couldn't think about what he had done, or meet his own gaze in the mirror? Was his home worth enough to help murder a man who had never done him any harm and who could have easily tried to attack him already? Hugh's eyes grew distant again as he looked into the leaping flames of the fire, remembering Colin's deep brown mischievous eyes, his strong body, and his infectious 'whoops, what did I just do' laugh. But then there were his morals; there would be no question in Colin's heart in this situation, Hugh knew. You could excuse the naughty behaviour, but there were some lines that could never be crossed. Some costs never got repaid.
Poke, poke, poke went the stick. His head hurt. His heart was confused. And his stomach wasn't entirely sure it was coping with either beans or coffee. Hugh tried to focus on the important, structural stuff. His possible plan would depend on co-operation from the household if he did it, and there was absolutely no guarantee that this would be provided. Sure, Bana had vouched for the house's helpfulness, but then again Hugh had no doubt the man would have said such things regardless of the truth. In hard times, you said whatever you needed to in order to get out. He would have done exactly the same himself.
"I snuck into your club and stole you from under the noses of your friends," Hugh said softly, subjecting the fire to more poking. "Why would your Mr. Freeman want to help me?"
What could Eric say to all that? He poked at his own plate a little and then put it down too. "Look, I'm pretty sure Lucelli's more concerned about getting his valuables back than he is about having me spread out on his floor. He thinks I'm a degenerate sodomite and he wouldn't want me within ten miles of his son and daughter after what happened... even if he does want me flayed. You could take back the goods and tell him I met a nasty end. Mr. Freeman and everyone else at the house would back you up..."
Eric's eyes met Hugh's briefly before he continued. "Mr. Freeman is a generous man. He, and everyone at the house, believe everyone should have a chance to be themselves and have as good a life as possible, no matter who they love.
"If you cared about your mate as much as it seems, then it's pretty obvious you're exactly the sort of man Mr. Freeman set up the Gentlemen's Club to cater for. You did this because you felt you had no choice; you were press-ganged into it, in a manner of speaking. Come back with me, and I promise you, I'll convince him to help you. It won't be as hard as you think."
His voice was low but steady, and he offered the advice with his full heart, meaning every word. If Hugh wasn't spinning a lie this time - and Eric sincerely believed he was telling the truth; surely, his eyes couldn't lie that well - then he would do everything in his power to make things work out. And he knew Marton would see what Eric had.
Offering Hugh another careful look, Eric reached for the coffee pot, and dragged it away from the fire. Dropping his eyes to follow his own movements as he poured out the coffee, he hoped like hell Hugh would be convinced.
"Couldn't go back with a tale." Hugh shook his head, trying not to think of the Freeman's element yet. "It's not just the theft he's got himself in a knot about, it's the insult. If I turn up there without either you living or dead, then I might as well start running in the opposite direction now. I'm a thief and a con artist, and he knows it. Wouldn't be any skin off my nose to nick your pretty little bauble and then make up some wonderful story about how you ended up splattered. The ring'll make him happy, but this guy's gone through a lot to get you back. If there's even a hint of you living happily ever after, then he's gonna do his nut. You may want to take the risk, but I wouldn't and I doubt whether your pals at the house would either. Would draw too much attention to them."
Hugh's eyes were darker as the light began to dwindle, his shoulders hunched as he heard his own voice set out the terms of his exile. Could he honestly go through with it? Could he honestly not? He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes unfaltering as he stared back at the fire. If he couldn't put the man on the boat then he couldn't return either, there was no question of that. Rich Bastard was not going to let him squirm off the hook with a tale and a smile, not after this strength of anger. But what he might have lost in his home, he may well gain in peaceful sleep.
"But I've got another way along the same lines, though," Hugh said slowly. "Be more extreme, though, and I'll need your friends."
He sighed through his teeth and poked the fire once more, sending a log crackling into ash.
"There's a boat I used to get here and I'm supposed to use to get back again," he said reluctantly. "Captain's under the employment of you know who, so he could turn a blind eye if you were a little more banged up than the usual passengers, if you get my drift. Guess it wouldn't be too unexpected that I would arrange a messenger in the case of my death to send back a note, plus that ring you nicked from the family, detailing a little tale of what I've done. What would be needed is a report from your copper mate--Nick, was it?--to say in police terms that we both died in 'Boss approved' circumstances. Could be that we were caught coming out of the city and got into a firefight... You got hit in the crossfire and I just got shot in the head. Police identify the bodies, close the case, and tidy everything up. Not gonna be worth his time to send someone over to get your carcass over there, and it's gonna be better than me looking all sweet and innocent as I try to lie through my teeth without getting a bullet in my guts for my troubles."
His eyes slid across to study Eric, trying to judge his body language and expression. Would the man exchange the favour of deceit and simply tell him what Hugh wanted to hear? Finally, Jackman leaned back and threw a stick into the fire. It didn't matter if he was. He couldn't be a part in this man's death.
"But I'll take you back tomorrow, regardless."
Eric blinked several times, unsure if he was hearing correctly. After going to all this trouble to get Eric out, Hugh was just going to turn around and take him back? Just like that? Whether or not Eric agreed to Hugh's plan? It all seemed a bit sudden, and Eric wasn't sure if he could trust the man. After all, he'd admitted he was a con artist.
But, on the other hand, why admit that if he was trying to fool Eric? What purpose would the admission serve, and why lie about taking him back if he'd got this far? He had been forced into this, after all, if his words could be trusted.
Perhaps it was as simple as him having a change of heart. The haunted look in his eyes didn't seem faked, and Eric was beginning to feel that although Jackman might be a 'thief and a con artist', he was clearly less than comfortable with being a party to what he probably imagined would end up as murder.
Handing Hugh his coffee, Eric held his own, warming his hands as he considered the plan. Marton would certainly go along with some kind of charade to keep Eric out of trouble, he was fairly sure, and it wasn't too much of stretch to believe that he'd include Hugh in that if necessary. Protecting the man's family in Australia somehow if Hugh didn't complete the job he was sent to do seemed a lot harder, but if Lucelli thought he was dead... he'd have no reason to go after Hugh's relatives.
As for Nick... he was a sodomite too, breaking one of the laws he was supposed to uphold. If he wouldn't agree to help simply because he'd save two men from a likely death-because frankly, Eric couldn't see how Lucelli would simply let Hugh go once he had Eric; too many loose ends and it would be a service in Lucelli's mind if he got rid of another bush-ranger that the cops hadn't got to yet-then there was always blackmail.
It wasn't going to be an easy job though; Hugh was right. They'd need help from Freeman's inhabitants, and it would have to be worked out just so, in order to convince Lucelli... but it might just work.
He finally looked at Hugh and nodded. "I think your plan might hold water."
Hugh chuckled softly, and looked down at his mug.
"You're being generous. It's fucking terrible, but I can't think of anything else that's gonna stop them coming after both of us. Ship's not gonna sink conveniently, after all." He took a mouthful of coffee, and put the mug down to prowl around the fire in a sudden but urgent need to move. There had been a strange sense of solid relief as soon as he had said the words, but simply saying that he was taking the guy back to his friends wasn't exactly the end of it. He looked towards the route that led to the ship, then groaned softly and ran his hand through his hair once more. Jesus, what a mess.
"D'you miss it?" he asked, still looking towards an invisible far away ship and the seas. "Australia."
It probably was fucking terrible, but it was better than no ideas at all. If Hugh wasn't just leading Eric up the garden path again, they'd make it work somehow.
"Miss it?" Eric repeated, looking up at Hugh's back as he pondered the question. "Sometimes; when I think about the people I left behind. Not all of them, of course," he added with a snort. "Lucelli for one, although his daughter... Jenny was my wife and I did love her... no matter what he might've told you. I never meant to hurt her, but..." He shrugged, unable to finish.
He didn't really want to get into what had happened with Jesse right now, nor think about how the ache he always felt when he thought about him too much was threatening to surface right now. Pushing the pointless thoughts away, he sipped at the hot drink, then turned the subject back on Hugh. "What about you? Will you miss it if you can't go back?"
"Yeah," Hugh replied softly. "It's my home. Everywhere else is just..."
He trailed off, uncertain on how to end that particular sentence. Finally he shrugged, mostly to himself. Everywhere else was just a place. Australia was home. It called to him, the beauty and the deadliness, and nowhere compared to it. When he was in the Outback, he felt a part of something much bigger than himself. Australia complimented him, supported him and relaxed him, even during the hardest of times. Here he was a fish out of water, an outsider wary of his new surroundings, although if he was lucky he might avoid the fisherman's club to finish him off.
Hugh closed his eyes and growled softly to himself. Jesus, he was going to have to stop with the poncy romance. He was in this situation because he had sleepwalked into it through grief and uncertainity, and then hadn't the strength to fight the knowledge that the task he had been given was wrong. The situation was as it was, and there was nothing he could do to change it without adding unnecessary risks or knocking Bana out again to drag him to the boat.
"I take it Jenny was the source of the disgrace to the family," he commented finally. "Always did think murder and kidnap was a bit much for a simple theft, even if it was something shiny."
He glanced at Bana curiously. "When you say 'hurt' her, I'm assuming you're not talking the physical side, yeah? You don't look the sort."
"Yeah." Eric nodded in sympathy to the obvious sadness Hugh was feeling for what was essentially going to be the loss of his home, if their 'plan' worked. "Everywhere else... yeah."
Eric's gut tightened at Hugh's question. So Lucelli hadn't told him the full story. Shaking his head, Eric answered, "No, not physical; I couldn't ever hit a woman. But..." Eric still wasn't sure he wanted to get into this territory, but he probably should say something. "Let's just say I let her down. I embarrassed her and hurt her by doing something I really shouldn't have done... and, well... she told her father, who really didn't like what he heard.
"I didn't have much choice but to leave in a hurry, and I made the mistake of taking not only money, but the wedding ring I should have handed back. It's a family heirloom and worth quite a bit. Goes back generations. Dumb, but... I just... forgot, more than meant to take it." He shrugged again, scratching at his beard.
"Okay. Good. Didn't think you seemed like the type, which was half the problem." Hugh sighed, but felt another weight lift from his shoulders. Some bastards were obvious, but some bastards were snakes under rocks, unseen until they struck out to sink fangs into an unwary leg. Eric had never seemed the type to be the dangerous sort, but then that was what made the threat so damned dangerous in the first place. He glanced at Bana, and hastened to explain. "When I set out, I assumed you were gonna be... different. A bastard. Someone like Lucelli, just coming from a different angle. Not that I had a huge choice of course, but it made a difference. For a bloke who works in a brothel, you're bloody innocent."
He ran his hand through his hair again and let it drop wearily. So incredibly innocent. Truth be told, if the man was as dangerous as Hugh was hoping for, the damned plan wouldn't have worked in the first place.
"If it helps, I think the ring was just the icing on the cake. He'd have come after your hide regardless." Jackman gave him a sideways glance. "That is, if the embarrassment wasn't something minor like really poor dancing at your wedding."
Eric coloured slightly, but said nothing about the whole embarrassing affair. "I'm not that bloody innocent," he snorted. "And thanks; I'm so glad you don't think I'm a bastard. Not that Lucelli would agree."
He paused, sipping at his cooling coffee and frowning over the cup. "You know it was more than bad dancing. I..." He huffed out a breath as he paused again. Hugh had to have guessed at least part of it. Eric had already told him Lucelli thought he was a 'degenerate sodomite'. "Why do you think I ended up in a male brothel, fucking men?"
"Fairy godmother?" Hugh replied, straight faced, then smiled slightly. "So, she walked in on you and the stable-hand having unexpected close encounters? And you are that innocent. You trust people. You have that puppy dog bewildered expression when things don't turn out fine."
It was hard not to laugh slightly at the 'Fairy Godmother' remark, even in the face of their situation.
"Wasn't quite the stable-hand..." Eric muttered, then half-growled, "and I don't need you to bloody start on the puppy-dog references, thanks."
Tossing the remains of his coffee in the dirt, he put it down next to the half-eaten dinner on his plate. Rubbing his arms, he drew the coat closer. "Gonna be cold tonight. Autumn's cooler here than home."
"You're right though; I shouldn't trust people so easily. Look what happened... I was a perfect innocent about sodomy before I met Jesse... Shit. Ah, fuck it, you may as well know. It's not like it's that big a damned secret any more, anyway.
"Jesse was Jenny's twin brother. And that's the reason Lucelli's really got it in for me; not just because I'm a sodomite who got caught in bed with some 'stable-hand'. He thinks I corrupted his son. Jesse, his pride and joy-sick little fuck-had the nerve to seduce me, then when we got caught, insisted to 'daddy' that he didn't know anything about 'the perverted ways of men' and that I'd been the one to get into his pants.
"The little shit abandoned me; not that he even cared in the first place. I was just another fuck; just another 'toy' to steal from his pretty sister, like he'd been doing all his life. The worst thing was... I actually cared. What kind of fucking innocent fool does that make me?" Eric swallowed hard, and then sniffed angrily.
"But hey..." He waved a hand vaguely and stood up. "Tomorrow's another day, eh? No point in dwelling on the past. We should get some sleep, yeah? Long way back tomorrow?" he queried, still unsure how far they'd actually come.
Hugh glanced at him sympathetically, but allowed the man his silence over the topic. Confusion in sexuality he could understand and appreciate; Jackman could remember the panic and discomfort he himself had encountered with Colin, and that was without any fears on trust. Colin had loved and supported him without question, allowing him to develop as he had wished. Without that... yeah, he could probably end up in a brothel himself. Hugh gently rested his hand on Bana's shoulders as he moved back to the main fire, giving him a little squeeze of support before withdrawing it just in case he caused Eric to be more unnerved than comforted. People who had been kidnapped and dragged out into the wilderness tended not to want much physical contact unless they had a seriously burning need.
"It'll probably take a day to get back," he said instead, walking to the wagon and getting another blanket. Jackman walked back and passed it to Eric. "That bedroll over there is for you, when you want to go to sleep. Just check the blankets before you get in... don't want anything uninvited sneaking in."
Hugh sat back down on the log next to the fire, and poked it once more in case it had managed to get lonely in the short period he had left it.
"As for what sort of guy it makes you," he said quietly, watching the flames as they licked over the wooden fuel. "Yeah, you think the best of people, but that's not exactly a bad thing. The world's nasty enough without immediately seeing the darkness. Anyway, you have your friends."
He stared into the fire as he spoke, feeling the numbness begin to take him over once more. Was he making a mistake even now? Were they too far along to even attempt going back? Perhaps he should simply accept the fact that a change of heart should have occurred a long time ago and have a bit of strength when it came to carrying out the more unpleasant tasks. Colin always did used to joke he was an old softie, but then was this just being soft or a bit of compassion? Hugh ran his free hand through his hair and sighed to himself, poking the fire again and causing a lump of wood to slide further into the heart of the flames accompanied by a crackle of outrage.
They had the night to think things over, after all. And if they were lucky, they'd see the dawn as well.
Word Count: ~6545