10 comments/ 41733 views/ 67 favorites Lost & Found Ch. 04 By: beachbum1958 As there have been a lot of requests, demands and blackmail of the "I'm gonna hold my breath until I turn blue..." variety, I finally got down to beginning to finish the story (eh?) I started in 'Lost & Found'. This is not the last part, but you'll find that out if you manage to make it to the end (go on, I dare you...). As always, comments, suggestions (except for the anatomically impossible ones)and critique are welcomed and pored over before being taken to heart or blatantly disregarded, but I am grateful to those of you who actually take your time to read and enjoy. There's no moral here, no message, and only a nod toward reality; remember, this is my world, storyland, if you will, and if you superimpose it over the real world, very little of it will match up perfectly, perhaps the odd corner or two, but not much else. Read it with a willing suspension of disbelief and have some fun, that's all I ask or expect from it! My heartfelt thanks go to Mriceman1964 for editing, suggesting, poking, prodding and generally making sure I at least kept a bead on reality while writing this, and as he's been there every single step of the way with this whole story arc, for whatever pleasure this story gives he deserves thanks and equal praise for being there from Day 1. It was his idea to clean up and post the original story when I'd given up on it, so thanks a million, Michael! _________________ Dramatis Personae: Colleen Hennessy, married Martin Novak (1), Michael Moran (2) Three Children; Sarah 'Sally' Novak, married to Joseph Anderson Francis Xavier Novak Caitlin Roisian Colleen Moran * Joseph Dolan, married to Roisian 'Rosy' Shelagh Caitlin Moran, sister of Michael Moran One Child; Steven Jude Dolan, married to Angel Jessica Raynes Two Children, Robert 'Robbie' Dolan (name later changed to Anderson) Casey Roisian Dolan Joseph Anderson Jr Unacknowledged illegitimate son of Steven Dolan by Sarah Novak Anderson _________________ Part 4:Owe no man anything, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law -- Romans 13:8-10 Something was troubling Robbie, Casey was sure. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was definitely bugging him. Robbie had been a little subdued since Sarah's wedding, and Casey understood that; he and Joey had given her to someone else, so his mom had less time for him, especially with little Caitlin to care for, but Casey sensed it was more than that. Maybe she'd ask Karen to have a quiet word with him; he'd open up to his sister for sure; he was used to confiding in and talking things out with Karen, something Casey entirely agreed with; everyone needs a confidante, and Karen was hers as well. Their day had started well enough; she'd woken at first light, automatically sliding out of bed to check on the baby, only to find Robbie's hand on her arm. "Where are you going, young lady?" he grinned, and Casey smiled and slid back under the covers, Robbie pulling her close as his hands roamed over her. She could feel his cock already hard and insistent, and grinned minxily at him as she rubbed her mound against him. Robbie responded by sliding his hands down to her ass and squeezing her cheeks, pulling them apart as he squeezed, simultaneously pulling her against his hardness, making her groan softly. He dipped down to nuzzle and nibble at her rapidly erecting nipples, the tingle as they did so sending a warm flush of anticipation through her, and she could feel her labia tingling as they swelled in response to her growing arousal. Casey wriggled against him, her lips brushing his neck as she grazed lightly on the clear skin of his neck and shoulder, and his cock twitched against her as she got to him, as she knew she would. She reached down between them to squeeze and fondle his cock and balls, enjoying as always the feel of his big velvety balls pouched together against the ivory hardness of his insistent erection. She knew what he wanted to do, but she also knew what she wanted, and kissing her way down his chest, ruffling the fine hairs beginning to shroud his chest and savouring the sensation of the silky, not-yet wiry hair against her tongue, she moved steadily, slowly, inexorably down to her target. When she licked the tip of his throbbing cock, Robbie gave a whispered gasp at the sensation of her warm, wet tongue against the slick velvety flesh of his cock head, groaning slightly as she slowly sucked him into her hot mouth, savouring, as always, the first hot wetness he found there. Casey lightly squeezed and fondled his scrotum as she rhythmically squeezed and pumped him as she sucked, wanting him to give her what she'd craved from the instant she'd taken him into her mouth. Her movements became more insistent, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked in earnest, all her skills working to bring him to orgasm, and she was rewarded in the way she most craved. "Oh God, Case, oh God...!" he groaned, his cockhead swelling in her mouth and ejaculating long, salty-sweet spurts that filled her hungry mouth almost faster than she could swallow; pulse after pulse of hot semen sprayed into her willing mouth, Casey thrilling to the taste and texture of her man's tribute as he gave it up to her. His cock pulsed and twitched until there was no more to give, and with a satisfied sigh, Casey licked him clean, before wriggling up alongside him, kissing him soundly. "Good morning darling, did you like your wake-up call?" she grinned. For answer, Robbie rolled her onto her back, her legs drifting apart as he settled between her thighs, his unyielding erection gently butting against her. Casey smiled as she reached down to take hold of him and adjust him so he was pointing directly as her swollen labia, then smiling in assent as he leaned forward. He speared into her in one long, relentless glide, filling her the way she liked, her head going back as she gasped out loud at the sudden pleasurable invasion, her pussy tightening involuntarily around him, pleasuring him as he pleasured her. Their coupling continued, Robbie insistently sliding himself in and out of her, thrilling her with every thrust and withdrawal, the rhythmic clasping of her vagina around his cock in time to his thrusts telling him how much she loved what he was doing to her. Robbie began to speed up, his movements harder, more insistent, and Casey began thrusting back against him, taking him all the way into her as she pumped her tight pussy against him, and so they thrust and pumped, racing toward the climax they both wanted so much now, the explosive release they both needed. Casey orgasmed first, the feel of her man, her lover, her brother inside her finally driving her over the edge as he powered into her, and as she came, in rippling waves that sucked and squeezed him buried deep inside her, Robbie cried out as he too reached climax, the hot sperm roaring out of him to spray inside her in long, satisfying jets. The feel of him filling her with his rich, fertile spunk triggered a blaze of sensations inside her, memories melding with fantasies about him to merge into one, long satisfying comber that surged and crashed inside her, blinding and deafening her with its intensity, her love for him burning high and hot deep in the center of the tumult as her body shook and shuddered with the strength and power of her orgasm. They lay in silence as their storm quietened and gradually faded, content to touch, hold, lightly kiss, no longer trying to arouse or stimulate, merely maintain contact. It was this time that Casey most appreciated with Robbie; he was never so close and accessible as when he held her close and shyly whispered his love for her, and these moments together were those she treasured the most, when only the two of them existed, there was no world out there except the one they saw in each other's eyes, and no possible life except the one they lived together. Eventually, reality intruded; the sound of young Robbie grizzling in the other room reminded Casey that it was time for his morning bottle, and that he probably needed a new diaper. It was the start of another day. She started getting out of bed, to have Robbie pull her back for one last kiss, before looking away. "Uh, Case, I'll have to go into work for a few hours; Steve called last night about the new game, there's a few problems he wants me to look at, it's kind of urgent; really, I should have gone back in, but, well... you know how it is; if I don't fix this soon, it'll just get worse; sorry, babe, I knew you wanted today to ourselves. I'll only be gone a few hours, I promise, and I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?" He was looking at the ceiling, not at her as he spoke, which immediately alerted her that something was up; Robbie always looked into her eyes when he spoke to her, it was the only way he knew how to communicate; now she knew he wasn't telling her everything; actually, he wasn't telling her anything, he was holding something back, and, as had been happening all too frequently recently, she could feel the shutters going up. Casey sighed; it troubled her that Robbie wasn't sharing whatever was troubling him with her; she knew just how compulsively honest he was, and the thought that he was holding something back troubled her deeply; it felt almost as though he didn't trust her enough to tell her, and that hurt. This wasn't the first time she'd gotten the feeling he was hiding something, or holding back, and it worried her that something was worrying him and he couldn't, or wouldn't, share it with her. Maybe Karen could get to the bottom of all the finger-tapping and drumming, all neck-scratching and channel-hopping he seemed to be doing constantly these days, his concentration totally shot, nervous tics he'd never had before. Robbie was always so laid back he was totally immersed in the moments he had alone, still and contemplative, but always ready with a sweet grin or a brush with his fingertips as she passed. Now that had stopped, and instead he was jumpy, restless, almost nervous, if that were possible. While he took a shower, Casey called Karen, and asked her to come over; aside from Sarah, Karen was the closest he had to a female relative, and was the one person who knew him better than Casey, perhaps she'd have an insight into what was going on with her boy. She knew Angie would jump at the chance to connect with Robbie and dig into what was troubling him, but her own family commitments kept her close to home these days; her baby was due in a few weeks, and while 43 wasn't too old or risky to be having a baby, Elio was taking no chances and had decreed total rest for her. While she waited for Karen, Casey pottered around the apartment, playing with and talking to little Robbie, and considered the ramifications of having a little sister for herself, and a little aunt for young Robbie to play with; it tickled her to think young Robbie, whose parents were brother and sister, would be older than his aunt; and she had to laugh as she thought: did that mean they were all now officially trailer-trash? Grinning at the thought, she glanced out of the window to see Joey's pride and joy, the Bentley Continental GT Robbie had given him as a wedding present, pull-up outside. After all the family greeting and hugging, and obligatory nuzzling of babies, Casey sat down with Joe Jr. firmly in her arms, Joey in turn walking around holding his nephew like some kind of precious object as he gurgled baby-talk at him. Casey leaned in to speak softly with Karen. "Kay, I need to confess; I had an ulterior motive for asking you to come over. It's Robbie, I'm really worried about him." Karen looked over at Joey, busily talking baby gibberish to little Robbie, who was gurgling happily back at him. "Is something...?" Casey shook her head. "No, it's his father I'm worried about. Something's really bugging him, it's making him twitch and tic like crazy, and he won't talk to me; there's something going on with him and he won't tell me about it; he just insists I must be imagining things, but he goes all red when he says it. I'm worried, Kay, he's never been able to keep secrets, and whatever this is, it's really troubling him, and it hurts so much to know he's keeping secrets. Talk to him, Kay, please, I know he'll tell you things he can't tell me, find out what's wrong with my boy!" Karen looked into Casey's eyes, seeing the fear and anguish lurking there, and noted the slight quiver of her bottom lip. She quickly pulled her up and took her into the bedroom. Joey looked up, and Karen flashed him a quick glance that told him to stay put. Joey already had a good idea why they were there, so he nodded in affirmation and went back to entertaining young Robbie. Once the door was closed, Casey settled Joe on the bed in a nest of pillows, and burst into tears. Karen gathered her in, letting her cry all her fears out as she soothed her. Eventually the storm abated as she calmed down, Karen still holding her close, and Casey clung tight to her, taking comfort in her sister's presence. While Casey cried, Karen had been having an internal debate over whether to tell her what she already knew, and as she wiped her tears away she made up her mind; this was a family matter, and Casey deserved to know. "Casey," she began, "I already know what's bugging Robbie; he and I had this conversation at Sarah's wedding. I'm just a little disturbed he hasn't already had this out with you!" At Casey's look of alarm, she smiled. "Calm down, Case, it's nothing sinister, or dark and deadly!" she smiled, watching her as she carefully picked her words. "Robbie's nervous, real nervous. This whole 'getting married' thing has really thrown him for a loop." She held up her hand to forestall any comment from Casey. "No, it's not like that. He talked to me all about this because he didn't know how to tell you without sounding like he was trying to bail on getting married. He wants to marry you so bad it hurts him, but he's afraid. He's afraid he's not good enough, that he'll get it wrong, that he's somehow going to mess up and you'll hate him for being his father's son. Robbie thinks the sun rises and sets on you and that little boy out there, and he can't handle the thought of somehow not being enough for you, or not being everything you wanted. The truth is, he's frightened that you'll think he trapped you into marrying him. Robbie's scared that marrying you will stop you loving him because you'll feel trapped!" Casey sat in open-mouthed shock; she'd never picked-up a single hint from him that this whole situation had him so jittery, and for so little reason. Had she really somehow indicated to him that she might feel trapped one day? God forbid! The one thing Casey wanted more than anything in the world was Robbie, she knew that with a depth and profundity impossible to plumb; he was an essential part of her now, his soul so closely twined around hers that there was no way to separate them. She came to reality as she realised Karen hadn't finished speaking. "Joey knows, he and Robbie had a talk about this, and Joey gave him the best advice he could; go see Frank. When we were first engaged, after the gloss wore off, Joey started getting the jitters, and for pretty much the same reasons -- he and Robbie really are more alike than either one of them realises. Anyway, Sarah told him that he needed an older male perspective, and sent him to talk to Frank; whatever Frank told him seemed to do the trick because, well, you know the rest!" Casey thought over what Karen had told her. Robbie was such a serious young man, so committed to his family, she could see how the thought of anything coming between them would make him jittery, but she still felt dismayed that he'd not confided in her. Weren't they partners now? Didn't young Robbie prove how much she loved him? Her eyes filled again as she thought of him grappling alone with his fears, unable to tell her because he thought she'd reject him for not loving her enough. Karen saw the precursor to her tears, and held her close. "Casey, you know how much he loves you, but you have to understand, this is something he has to work out himself; there's nothing we can do except be there for him, especially you. Remember when I first met you again, back when Robbie first brought you from Sacramento? I was scared for him then, afraid you'd hurt him, and maybe damage him in some way that none of us would be able to fix. I was wrong then, thank God, but nothing about Robbie's changed very much since then; he's still a very young boy inside all that meat and muscle, and even with that incredible mind of his, there are some areas he just doesn't know how to connect with, or even realise that he needs to; this is one of them." Karen paused, marshalling her thoughts before continuing. "Someone is going to have to show him the way, and it has to be someone who's already been there, done that, and come out okay. That's why he needs Frank now; Frank and Caitlin had to go through what you and Robbie are going through now, they know the way through it, and only they can show him how. They did it for Joey, although we don't have the...complication you and Robbie have, but other than that, it took the two of them to show Joey what to do and how to be who he should be." She paused, smiling a little at the memory of how Joey had been after his own crisis had been resolved. "Relax, it will all be fine; Robbie loves and trusts Frank and Caitlin, and they love him, you, and that little boy out there like their own. In a very real sense Caitlin's as much his mom as Sarah is, she loves him fiercely and unquestioningly, so she's not going to let any harm come to him, to you, or your baby, I promise you!" Casey tried to push her misgivings down in the face of Karen's breezy confidence that Robbie could handle this, and would, and managed a tremulous smile. "There you go, that's better!" smiled Karen, "Now let's go rescue Robbie Junior before Joey decides to see if he likes Five-Alarm Chilli as much as his father!" Casey laughed and gently picked up her nephew, handing him to Karen and patting her face to wipe away the signs of her recent tears. As they rejoined Joey, they found him stretched out on the carpet, young Robbie lying on his chest and laughing as he tried to poke his fingers into Joey's eyes, nose and mouth, and giggling as he avoided Joey's attempts to nip his fingers between his lips. Every time she watched her bright, happy, inquisitive, affectionate little boy as he explored his world, Casey was struck by the thought that this was how Robbie might have been before his family decided to deny his existence, and the thought was always accompanied by a wave of sadness for his loss, and a stab of guilt for her part in that. "Look Robbie, it's mommy! She's my sister! Can you say sis-ter?" Robbie burbled happily, and Joey grinned. "Yes, I knew it, what a clever boy you are, you're definitely my nephew, blood will tell! Your mean Aunty Karen says you can't talk yet, she bet me ten bucks it was just gas, she's a meanie, can you say 'meanie'? Good boy, now your meanie Aunty Karen owes me ten bucks!" Casey laughed and picked up Robbie, allowing Joey to clamber to his feet. "All good now?" he asked, taking Joe Jr. from Karen. "I think so," Said Casey, "but I still wish he'd confided in me a little. At least I know what the trouble is, and he's got a way to sort it out, so I'm at least a little reassured. I'll make sure he goes and see's Frank, he adores Robbie and hopefully he'll be able to make things right for my boy!" Joey looked a little shamefaced, something Casey spotted immediately. "What, Joey, what are you not telling me?" Lost & Found Ch. 04 Joey grinned. "Robbie called me last night, we had another talk about this; I think he just wanted me to tell him again that Uncle Frank was the way to go with this, and I made sure I let him know that he needs to sit down with both of them, Uncle Frank and Aunt Kat, so I called them and kind of...pushed Robbie into going there today; he's not "dealing with an emergency" at work today, he's in Morgan Hill, getting the benefit. I hope you don't mind?" Casey smiled at her older brother, both her smile and her eyes softening as she considered how much he cared for his younger brother. Casey pulled his head down and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Thank you for still looking out for our boy!" she whispered, grinning back at Joey's quick grin. ++++ Robbie pulled into the driveway of his former home, Frank and Caitlin Novak's residence in Morgan Hill, a suburb of San Jose, noting both Frank and Caitlin's cars already parked there, so he swung off to the side and parked across them. He walked into the house confidently, not bothering to knock; this had been his home for several years, and he was still a member of this family. As he walked through to the back, he heard the twins, arguing as usual, Frank mediating, and Caitlin clattering in the kitchen, and suddenly he was back; it was as though he'd never left. Morag looked up and spotted him, immediately giving a shriek and pelting toward him, followed closely by Moira. The red-headed identical twins mobbed him every time, Frank suspecting that they just wanted to hit him up for more cash or freebies, but the truth was the two girls adored Robbie and wanted their brother back again, even though they loved Casey and worshipped little Robbie, and every chance they had to have him to themselves they took with both hands. Caitlin heard the commotion, and slipped up behind Robbie to slide her hands around his waist and kiss him lightly on the neck. "Robbie, welcome home! You should come down more often, we all miss you!" Robbie spun round to hug his aunt in a bear hug, suddenly glad and relieved to see her, opening his arms to gather in the twins as well so he could hug them all at once. After squeezing them all soundly, Robbie released them, letting all three of them breathe again. Caitlin took his hand, kissing him softly on the cheek, motherly and concerned. "Joey tells us you need to talk, come on through to the den. Girls, your dad and I need to talk to Robbie, this is private, and I mean that, so go find something to do, we're going to be a while." The twins finally left after all their protests were dismissed, muttering darkly about how they weren't really members of this family, that they got shoved out the door for the least little reason, and that no-one ever told them anything about what was really going on. Caitlin grinned as she listened to them, feeling for them, but knowing full well that what she and Frank were going to tell Robbie was definitely not for their ears, and never could be. Frank ushered Robbie into the den, and waited for Caitlin to settle the girls and ensure their privacy. As he waited, his mind cast back to the circumstances that led him here, to this moment, if truth be told, to help him set out in his mind what and how he was going to tell Robbie about what had happened, what the family was all about, and what he meant to all of them. **** My name is Francis Xavier Novak; blame it on a Catholic upbringing, and call me Frank, everyone else does except Caitlin; she, out of everyone, always called me Frankie, and only she could get away with it; anyone else who called me that would end up picking their face up off the sidewalk. My mom was Colleen Hennessey, and her parents were immigrants from the depression-hit tenements of Chicago in the 1930's, her father lured here by the promise of work. It was hard work, too, back-breaking labor in the factories owned by the Dolan family, long hours for pittance wages. I know my grandpa resented it, but the alternative was no money at all in Chicago, so they stayed and sweated it out. Mom was born here in Springfield, and she could remember Grandpa working long hours to put barely enough food on the table, while the Dolan's and their relatives in Springfield and surrounding towns got rich, fat and arrogant. There were damned few Cadillac's to be seen in this part of the world, but those that were belonged to that family and their myriad offshoots. My dad was a first-generation Ukrainian immigrant named Marcin Novacek, anglicised to Martin Novak. He'd come to the USA as a small boy but he never forgot his roots, and always pined for the chance to one day return home to the old country. It never happened; when I was less than a year old, he was killed by a hit and run driver on Serramonte Avenue downtown. Initially, all the eyewitnesses identified the car as a late-model black Cadillac Coupe DeVille, which struck him so hard he was thrown 20 feet, killing him instantly. My sister Sarah was four years old when it happened, and she remembers my father clearly, but I have only pictures mom gave me; I don't remember him at all. Strangely, when the sheriff of our fair town investigated the accident, all the eye-witnesses thronging the sidewalk at the time either had no clear recollection of what had happened or claimed they hadn't really seen what happened; these same people were also the recipients of some kind of windfall, as they all somehow managed to afford new cars that week. The only black 1972 Coupe DeVille in town belonged to Jerry Dolan, son of the owner of the factories that had made the Dolan family fortune, and a notorious drunk driver. As the sheriff was also his cousin, as was the mayor, the investigation was pretty cursory and closed as 'Unsolved'. It was an interesting point that Jerry Dolan's DeVille was reported 'stolen' that same day, and found burned out in a field behind Bad Indian Wood a couple of days later. Just over a year later, mom married Michael Joseph Moran, the man who brought me up, and who I thought of as 'dad'. He was a huge man, with hands like shovels, but the sweetest, mildest temperament you could hope to find. I was never wary of him, and he was never too tired to pick me up and swing me on to his shoulders when I got tired or fed-up with walking. I looked forward to when he'd tuck me in on a cold night, or hold me on his lap with his huge arm around me, sitting in the big armchair in front of the fire reading nursery rhymes to me, or Pooh, or his favorite, The Wizard of Oz, until I fell asleep. I was almost three when mom brought a new baby home; her name was Caitlin Roisian Colleen. Mom told me that she made me promise I would look after her, because I was her big brother, and that's what big brother's did, and then she made me hold Caitlin's hand while I promised to always take care of her, and she always swore Caitlin smiled at me as I promised mom I would always look after and protect my little sister. I always loved my baby sister anyway, and I belonged to her for as long as I could remember; all she ever had to do was want something and I'd get it for her, or do it for her, or make it happen for her; she was my responsibility, and she owned me outright from as early as I can remember. Growing up in the 1970's and 80's was the same for us as any other family in the Midwest; we went to school, did family things, squabbled, fought, fell-out, made-up, lived normal, everyday lives. Sarah (known in the family as 'Sally', probably because as a small child it was easier for me to pronounce) was almost five years older than me, so growing up we never played together a lot; I think she felt that age gap quite keenly; when she was ten years old she was nearly twice as old as me, and more so between her and Caitlin. We all loved each other fiercely, but it was my job to look out for Caitlin, and Sarah left me to it (unless someone threatened one of us younger ones; then my big sister turned into an avenging angel, a sight scary and awesome to see. Every smart kid in town (and a lot of the stupid ones, too) learned early-on just how much hell would rain down on them if they messed with Sarah Novak's family... I progressed through school at pretty much a walking pace; there was nothing much I was interested in, except sport, specifically boxing, but the school didn't offer much in the way of coaching, concentrating as it did on track & field, football, and wrestling. Sarah tried to get me interested in other things, even suggesting church activities, which should have indicated how worried she was about me; she didn't like the idea of me hitting people and getting hit back, and we had several almost-arguments about it. The only one who didn't get on my case was Caitlin; she was only three years younger than me, so I could talk to hear more easily and freely than I could with Sarah. Don't get me wrong, I loved and adored Sarah, but I had a closer, more confidential-type relationship with Caitlin. Eventually I stumbled on the gym at the YMCA on Harvey Street, where I discovered our parish priest, Father Bernardi, showing rights over lefts to some of the kids training there. I found out he was a fanatical follower of the kings of the ring and a disciple of the squared-circle who could quote statistics all the way back to the 1920's, a true boxing aficionado. As I was a natural southpaw I had a distinct advantage in the ring, something he saw immediately, and took it upon himself to coach me from age 12. So, on Saturday nights, while my friends were out getting into trouble, learning how to smoke, or caged-up and locked-down indoors, I would be down at the gym with him after Benediction, working the speed-bag, jump-rope and weight-bench, circuit training, or sparring endless rounds with everyone the good Father could dig up who'd climb into the ring with me. I soon developed a reputation as a snappy counter-puncher, with a tight, close guard, a solid chin, a smoking short right jab and a blurring left hook that caught many opponents completely unawares. When not training, the good Father would tell me blow-by-blow stories about the fights at Madison Square Garden he'd watched, seeing undercard boxers eventually go on to become world champions; he told me about hitching to Philadelphia to watch Jersey Joe Walcott and Rocky Marciano, and 'the hardest punch ever thrown', ditching school to watch Floyd Patterson fight Archie Moore, and Ingemar Johansson, Sweden's first heavyweight world champion and take back the title, and blowing off his studies at the seminary to see Patterson's punishing matches against the immortal Cassius Clay, now known as Muhammad Ali, and the notoriously brutal Mob puppet Sonny Liston, and as a boy way back in 1951, slipping into the Polo Ground, New York, to share in the magic of 'Sugar' Ray Robinson's famous fight against the English boxer Randy Turpin to regain the world Middleweight title. I knew all those names, I'd been an avid reader of 'Ring' magazine ever since I discovered the sport, and to be trained by a man who'd actually been there and watched those legends fight was an enthralling experience for me. I was inspired by his stories, and I promised myself one day I'd be a champion at whatever weight I found myself when my chance came. In the meantime, I trained, I worked the bags and the weight-bench, and I sparred endlessly. Mom and dad were concerned at my lack of interest and mediocre progress in school, but they were also encouraging and supportive that I'd found something I liked and could do well, and that kept me out of the trouble all my friends seemed to find so easily. Oddly enough, my biggest fan was Caitlin, or Kat, as everyone called her, although, with hindsight, maybe not so odd. Also, as a side benefit, almost no-one picked on me or my sister at school; when word got around that I was the real thing, all the school bullies and wannabe tough-guys avoided me, which was gratifying, but also disappointing; if only one of them had tried something with me, just once... And so things progressed, until I was nearly sixteen. Sarah was in college over in Monte Vista, just a few miles away, and had a steady boyfriend, Joe Anderson, who seemed like a nice guy. Joe was always polite and respectful to Sarah, and obviously into her, friendly and interested in me without being condescending in any way, and effortlessly good with Caitlin, who had her own not-so-secret crush on him, which amused Sarah and tickled Joe pink. Then it all seemed to go wrong for Sarah. One night she went to a party with some of her college friends; Joe wasn't with her, they'd had some kind of argument in the car outside the house that afternoon, she'd gone to the party without him, and she'd come back in a hell of a state, dishevelled, in tears, mom ready to call the sheriff, and dad trying to calm everyone down. I admit it, I eavesdropped; no-one was going to tell me anything, but it was obvious something had happened to Sarah, something bad, something to do with whoever's house the party had been at. As I snooped further, I heard more than I wanted to, about what had happened to my big sis, where it happened, and most of all, who did it. I knew what they were saying, and the sound of my big sis, who'd never been anything but the best thing in my life, crying desperately as she told mom and dad what had happened to her, made my blood boil. For the first time in my life, I wanted to hurt someone real bad; in all my bouts in the ring I'd never lost my temper, my opponents were just that, opponents, not my enemies, not objects of hatred, and I'd respected them. But now I wanted to grab that piece of shit and pound him until he was just a lifeless red ruin for what he'd done to my beautiful big sister. The following afternoon I waited outside the campus until the man I wanted to see came ambling out like he owned the place. I walked next to him along the sidewalk as he walked to his car, until we passed an alleyway, then I pushed him as hard as I could, watching him sprawl full length among the garbage and litter. He may have had almost five years on me, but I had 20 lbs and four inches on him, and he hit the ground with a satisfying thud. "Hey, what the fuck...?" he bellowed, jumping to his feet, and that's when I let him have it, a looping roundhouse left, powered by all my rage and disgust, that spun him round and dumped him back in the garbage. As he climbed to his feet, he got a quick one-two that slammed him back against the wall and as he came back off the wall, he got another left hook, this one right into the bridge of his nose. I heard the craacckk! as his nose broke. Today I feel ashamed of it, but right there and then I felt a huge burst of satisfaction watching him bleed like a stuck hog. To give him his due, he came back out swinging, but he had no chance; he was used to having his teammates on the football field protect and defend him, the star quarterback, and his half-wit gang of bullies and yes-men to help him throw his weight around in the corridors in high school, but when he was alone, he was easy meat, and every punch he threw missed, while every punch I threw connected somewhere painful. I battered him to his knees, feeling immense satisfaction that this pig who had hurt my sister was on his knees before me, asking, no begging me to stop, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, his eyes bruised and blackening, large bruises all over his face where I'd connected again and again. Eventually I decided I'd beaten him enough to get some answers out of him; if I didn't get enough answers out of him, I was going to beat him some more. Right then I didn't care if he scuttled home to mommy and she kissed his current trivial set of boo-boo's better, or he got carried into the ER because I'd beaten the living shit out of him, but he was going to tell me everything or the ER was going to be the least of his worries. I held him upright by his expensive bouffant hairstyle, which I guess was supposed to make him look like someone out of Wham! or something, but just looked stupid surrounding his meaty thick-lipped face. As I questioned him, piece by piece I got the whole sordid story out of him, how he'd decoyed Joe out to a motel on the town line with a message supposedly from Sarah, that she wanted to meet him there and talk, and how he'd paid Laurie Hollister, the school tramp, to tell Sarah that she was Joe's new girl, that she and Joe had been doing the business, and how she was going to be with him after the party in a room they had in an out-of-town motel, and then how he'd lured Sarah up to the bluffs, and what he'd done to her there. To this day I don't know how I didn't just chop him in the throat and watch him choke to death there and then. When he'd finished, I dragged him to his feet and gave him another couple of vicious lefts and rights to the face, just for spite, to make him fear me, and to hurt him some more for what he'd done to my beautiful sister. As I left him sitting there in the garbage, slumped against a wall covered in dog-piss stains, bloody and afraid, he looked up at me, his little weasel eyes darting around like rats in a barrel. "Who are you?" he croaked, "what's Sarah Novak to you?" He flinched as I walked back toward him and reached down to haul him closer by his collar so I could look him in his scared little eyes, now puffed and bruised where I'd given him something to remember me by. "Sarah Novak's my sister, and for what you did, I should kill you; maybe one day I will. You should know one thing, you little dog's dick; I'm fifteen right now, and I fucked you up good, imagine what I'll be able to do to you in five years time. Stay away from my sister, and from my family, or I'll do this to you every chance I get, and every time it'll be worse, you hear me, you little prick? And while you're down there in the dog-piss, think on this; you were lucky it was me; my mom wants to cut off your balls, then shove a double-barrel up your quacker and pull both triggers for what you did, and if you think it's just talk, then you don't know my mother, so thank your lucky stars I got here first!" He nodded, unable to speak for nervously swallowing. I left him there minus his dignity, his bravado, and several of his teeth, surrounded by garbage and dog urine, his expensive Michael Jackson 'Thriller' jacket and trendy Lee Cooper jeans covered in smears from the rotting garbage and nameless filth he'd spent so much time sprawled in. By the time I got home I was shaking in reaction and my hands were burning, the skin of my knuckles split and bleeding in places. As I came in, Caitlin spotted me. "Frankie, have you seen...oh my God, Frankie, what happened to your hands? Frankie, honey, what is it?" she held my arms tightly, unnerved by the sight of me shaking. She towed me into the kitchen and sat me down while she got a bowl of water and dumped some ice into it. "Here, put them in here!" she ordered, taking my hands and pushing them into the ice water. It felt good, alleviating the stinging and allowing them to unclench. While my hands were soaking, she went and found some gauze and some antiseptic, and spent the next 20 minutes drying, cleaning and taping-up the worst of the cuts. When she'd finished, she sat back and looked at me appraisingly. One of the things I'd always found most appealing about Kat was her ability to look right into you and work out what was going on inside; she had that in common with Sarah, which was why I've never been able to sneak one past either one of them. "I...got into a fight, okay?" I lied, Kat looking me with one eyebrow raised, a gesture she'd inherited or copied straight from mom. "Don't even bother trying to lie to me, Francis Xavier Novak!" she gritted, leaning forward and poking me in the chest. "I know no-one in that school will touch you. This is to do with whatever it was that happened to Sally, isn't it? What happened? No-one will tell me anything, Sally just stays in her room crying, and mom and dad look like they've been fighting, now mom just sits there crying, so Don't. You. Start. Lying. To. Me!" Lost & Found Ch. 04 She emphasised each word with a prod in my chest, and I realised she was furious, her eyes flashing like emeralds in firelight, and I was suddenly just a little afraid of her. She sensed this, and patted my knee, drawing herself closer so she could rest her head on my shoulder. "Frankie, what happened to Sally? Was it what I think? Did someone hurt her...you know...like that?" I looked at her, unable to bring myself to say it, to tell my kid sister what I knew, why I'd done what I'd done. I saw tears gather in her eyes, concern and horror, anger, fear and outrage all flitting across her face. "No, Frankie, no, please say no, not...not Sally, oh God, who? Who could have done that to her? Why? She never hurt anyone..." she whispered. Two big tears rolled down her cheeks, compassion for her big sister flooding out of her. Suddenly she looked up at me, her eyes sharp and accusatory. "You know who did it, don't you? That's what this is about, isn't it?" she demanded, holding up my bandaged hand, "You know who did that to my sister, don't you?" My look told her everything she needed to know, and she turned away, her shoulders shaking. I put my arm around her, and she collapsed against me, crying as though her little heart was breaking. I tended to forget that for all her sharp wits and smart mouth, Kat was still only 13, still just a little kid, and this was too much for her to try and deal with. I let her cry until she'd cried herself out, doing my best to mop her tears, finally letting her blow her nose and calm herself down again. When she'd finished she looked closely at me. "Did you hurt him bad?" she asked, and I hedged, not wanting to admit anything to her, but she asked me again. "I said, did you hurt him bad? Answer me, Frankie, and you better say 'yes'!" I mumbled something about giving him a beating but he walked away, but Kat wouldn't let it go. "Who was it, Frankie? Who would do something like that to Sally?" She pinned me with her eyes, and I caved in, just like I always did when it came to Kat, and I told her, seeing the shock and outrage and disgust grow in her eyes, and wishing I'd kept my big mouth shut. I made her promise, on my life, that she'd never let Sarah know that we knew, making sure she understood that Sarah felt soiled and ashamed enough, even though it wasn't her fault, without having to know that we knew as well. Kat promised solemnly to keep it secret and between us to her dying day, and as Kat had never broken a promise to me in her life, I was content she'd do the same this time too. As she stood up to clear away the dressings and gauze, she kissed me on top of the head. I looked at her in surprise. "What was that for baby? And she smiled back at me. "For being Sally's knight in shining armour and avenging her honor! She can't thank you, so I will! Thank you Frankie, I'm so proud of you, it was an honor to fix up your hands for you!" I had to grin; my baby sister was so funny sometimes! Next day the whole town was buzzing about how Steven Dolan, the richest kid in town, had been jumped by 5 guys who'd tried to mug him, but he'd bravely beaten them off, getting a little knocked about in the process, but he'd handed them all a beating and run them off. He was a hero, a genuine example to the town, with battle-scars to prove it; there was even talk of the college making a presentation to him, and how the Mayor was going to give him a special Citizenship Award... Now you know what kind of town I grew up in. * A few weeks after all this, mom called Kat and me into the sitting room and asked us to sit down; she had something she wanted to tell us. We were both mystified; mom looked solemn, and angry, and sad, a welter of emotions flitting across her face. I had a sudden premonition what this was all about, and hoped it wasn't true. Mom dithered for a while, clearly looking for a way to begin, so I helped her a little. "Mom, what's wrong? Is this to do with Sally, with whatever it was that happened last month?" Mom looked ready to cry, spooking Caitlin, who huddled closer to me, her knuckles white with the way she was clutching my hand. She looked at me half gratefully and half in anger that I'd broached the subject, but she nodded and turned away to look out the window. "Kids, Sally...your big sister Sarah is...she's...Sarah is going to have a baby in the spring. We know who the...father is, your father is going to speak to him and find out what he's going...his plans...if he's going to accept responsibility for his child, this baby Sarah's having...in the spring..." she trailed off, looking off into the distance, her voice barely more than a whisper. Kat looked at me in incomprehension, then suddenly she realised how this must have come about, her eyes popping as she almost burst with the effort of not blurting it out. I slipped my hand over her mouth to quiet her, but mom never even noticed, still staring vaguely off into the distance. I pulled Kat away, signalling that we should go talk somewhere, and as we left the room, mom spoke. "Sally's going to need both of you to help her now, you know that don't you? She's in no condition to go back to college, and I need both of you to be patient with her, help her, just be there when she needs you. The...boy who did this is no good; your father's wasting his time, that whole family are no good, so Sally's going to be alone, and she's going to be a mother, and there'll be times when she's going to be angry for what happened, and she might snarl and snap and lash out at you; when she does, just remember she's your big sister and she loves both of you more than anything in the world, and she's only doing it you because she can't do it to the one who deserves it, okay?" We both murmured assent, Kat doing so because I did, I think, not because she understood what mom meant, but I got it. Kat took me by the arm and towed me upstairs to my room, where she sat down on my bed while I paced around, digesting what mom had told us. I only had a vague idea of the implications of what mom had told us, the main fact, that Sarah was pregnant, beating most insistently in my brain. Now I wanted to find Steven Dolan and rip his arms and legs off, beat him into an unrecognisable mess, and show the town what their 'hero' was really made of. Kat watched me quizzically for a while as I paced around muttering and cracking my knuckles, eventually calling out my name, and repeating it until I broke out of my reverie to look at her in surprise; I'd forgotten she was there. "Frankie, Frankie, FRANKIE! Have you finished talking to yourself yet?" she demanded, "Talk to me!" I sat on the floor next to the bed while she sprawled on her tummy on the bed, her head level with mine. "Frankie, what's Sally gonna do now? She wanted to graduate, now she's gonna have to stay home and have a baby, is she having a baby because of...what happened to her, you know...?" I leaned back, eyes closed, not really wanting to answer. Caitlin waited for a few seconds for my answer, then, growing impatient, clonked me on the back of the head with her fist. "I said...!" she began, cocking her fist to give me another one, but I grabbed her wrist. "If you do that again I'm going to shove your head in the toilet and flush it! Now quit that, you don't hit people! Remember what dad's always saying, Kat, and try and be a little lady once in a while!" Kat pouted, looking cute as all get out, and I had to grin; even at that age I couldn't stay mad at her, no matter how much she deserved a good swift kick in the pants. "Look, Kat, Sally needs us now; that piece of crap and his dirt-bag family are gonna walk away from this, because people like them don't think people like us matter. Mom's right; dad's wasting his time, Sally's never gonna get any kind of help from them. We just have to make sure we're there when she needs us; we're all she's got. I think I can safely say Joe's gonna run a million miles when he finds out about this, he's not gonna want anything to do with Sally, and I think that's gonna hurt her the most. So this is your heads-up, okay? No more talking about Joe, no more mooning over him, or blushing when his name gets mentioned, okay? Sally feels alone enough without us rubbing it in, so just leave it alone, got that?" Kat's eyes had been getting progressively larger as I talked, and she just nodded, the seriousness of my tone getting through to her immediately. She really was too quick on the uptake sometimes, more so than I would expect from a 13 year old girl, but this was our sister, the one person in the world we adored more than any other, and all we wanted to do was make the hurt go away, or at least not let her hurt alone. I got up and headed for the door. "Where you going, Frankie?" she asked, and I paused to look at her. "I need to talk to dad, and no, you can't come, just give mom some story or the other if she asks where I am, I don't care what, okay? You got that?" Kat looked rebellious, obviously wanting to come with me, but knowing I wasn't kidding this time, so she let it drop; like I said, she was a smart kid... * When dad came out of the factory gates, he saw me waiting on the sidewalk, so he pulled over and wound down his window. "Frank, what are you doing here, son? You can't catch a ride, I'm not going home yet, just go home and I'll see you later. Go on now!" I opened the door and climbed in, turning to face him. "I know where you're going, I'm coming with you. Sally's my family too, and I want to see what those scum Dolan's are going to do about what happened to her!" Dad's expression changed, his face going very still. "You...know? About Sally ...and...? I nodded. "Everything, everything that creep did, how he set her up, the whole story. Where do you think our 'Town Hero' got his brand-new face?" Dad looked down, shaking his head. "That was you? Oh Frankie, didn't I tell you enough times to think with your head and not your fists? You shouldn't have done that." He leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his eyebrows, something he did when he was thinking. "Okay, what's done is done, but next time you want to pound someone, walk away and count to fifty, then, if you still need to do it, do it, but at least you've taken the time to think why you're doing it; spur-of-the-moment revenge is a poor excuse for rearranging someone's face!" He started the car again and looked at me, at my expression. "Okay Frankie, you know where we're going, just two things; keep your mouth shut while we're there, and I mean that, and you're going to hear some stuff you will never, ever repeat to anyone, you hear me?" I was more than a little intimidated by his manner; he'd never enjoined that kind of silence from me before, believing as he did in openness and honesty, and I nodded, wary of him for the first time in my life. He looked at my face for a little longer, then reached out and ruffled my hair lightly. "Good man, I knew I could rely on you; you're just like your father, there's more of Martin in you than you know. Now, let's get this over with and go home!" We drove to the suburb the Dolan's lived in, owned, really, pretentiously named 'Beverley Hills', no doubt another boost for their already bloated ego's and overwhelming sense of their own importance. Jerry Dolan and his family lived in a moderately palatial ranch-style home surrounded by a high wall and imposing gates, the gateposts adorned with crowned lions; obviously they thought of themselves as the leaders of the pack around here. Dad grinned and pointed with his chin at them, and I had to grin back. He pressed the call-button and spoke to someone inside, and the gates slowly swung open, closing again after we drove through. When we got out of the car, there was Jerry, looking his usual puffy, pouchy self, his drink-ravaged features bleary and indistinct, and his face glowing with large areas of broken veins, making him look red-faced, bruised, and unhealthy. As he stood up he swayed, and I realised he was drunk, not even 6 o'clock and he'd obviously been communing steadily with the bottle long before we set out to see him. He lurched to the front of the porch, leaning on the upright to support himself. "What d'you wan' here, Moran?" he slurred, his eyes piggy and hostile, and as I looked at him I realised I was looking at his son 30 years down the road; the same meaty features, the same thick-lipped, self-indulgent sneer, the same air of entitlement. Like his son, Jerry Dolan believed he walked three spans above the earth. Dad looked at him with barely concealed contempt. "You know why I'm here, Dolan, and I want to know what you're going to do about your pissant little son. I know you think you can do anything, well, not this time, not to my daughter, so I'll repeat myself; what are you going to do?" Jerry swayed so much I really thought he was going to collapse. "I don't have to do anything, Moran! If your slut daughter wants to open her legs..." He got no further before dad's huge hand grabbed him around the throat and yanked him close like he weighed nothing. "Be careful what you say about my girl, Dolan, you may be someone in this town, but right now you feel like nothing to me. Watch your mouth!" With a contemptuous surge of his shoulder, dad flung him to the ground by his throat, where he bounced once and lay still. I thought he'd actually killed him, he'd hit the ground so hard, then came a loud snore. Dad looked at me and grinned. "He's too drunk to notice, but don't worry, in the morning he's going to hurt good, believe me!" I looked up, to spot Steve Dolan fading inside the house, a look of sick fear on his face as he realised his protector-daddy was out cold and there was nothing stopping my dad going in there, dragging him out, and beating seven types of shit out of him. There was a clapping sound, and someone moved up out of the shadows into the early evening sunlight, and I gasped; it was a woman, and she looked exactly like Kat, or how Kat would probably look in 25 years time. "Hello Mikey, how are you?" she said in a soft contralto, and dad grinned at her. "Rosie, damn you look more like mom every time I see you! It's been too long, baby-girl, you're looking good!" The woman smiled again, looking exactly like Kat, even the slight tilt in her eyebrow when she smiled, and gave a little curtsey, and I couldn't help but gawp. Dad looked at me and smiled. "Frankie, let me introduce my sister; Roisian Shelagh Caitlin Moran...Dolan. Rosie, my stepson, Frank, but you knew that!" She stepped down from the porch to take my hand, and look closely at me, her fingertips gently brushing my cheek for an instant. "He looks so much like poor Martin, doesn't he? I know Sarah does. How about little Caitlin, does she know?" Dad shook his head. "I don't think that would be such a good idea, especially now, after all this...mess." Roisian grimaced. "You know I'd do something if I could; I have no illusions about my son, I know what he did, and what he's capable of; in so many ways he's his father's son. I suppose I have you to thank for handing him his ass?" she asked me, and I could only nod a little apprehensively. "It's alright, Frank, it was a long time coming, and I thought it might teach him a lesson, but his father sees it differently. This family abounds with lies and secrets, one more lie to make the Dolan myth even more powerful is just another brick in the wall they've built around themselves. I'm truly sorry about what he did to Sarah; she was such a pretty, happy little girl, and Martin adored her, as did I." She smiled wistfully. "Your father was in my class in school, Mikey and he used to hang out together, they were best friends, and I used to tag along, hoping he'd notice me; fat chance!" She grinned at me, looking younger and even more like my little sister. "To my bad luck, he only ever had eyes for Colleen Hennessy, but we remained friends. Then Jerry came on the scene, and I married him when I finally realised Martin was never going to look twice at me; Jerry was already a drinker then, but he was a sweet guy too, and I foolishly thought I could turn him off he booze. When your father died I was heartbroken, and yes, I know the stories about that, and I also think there was more to it than a simple hit-and-run, but I can't prove anything. I still miss him terribly, though; he was such a sweet boy in school, such a gentle man, as well as a true gentleman, and so young when he was killed, such a tragic waste! If things had been different, I might even have been your mom! Every time I see you in town, my heart skips a beat, you're so much like your father, and I do miss him so!" Dad reached out and stroked her hair. "Poor little Rosie! You could leave him, you know; there's nothing left here for you, and I have room in my home for one more family member, it's your home too, if you want it!" Roisian grimaced. "Thank you, big brother, but this is the bed I made, I did it with my eyes wide open, so I'll have to lie in it a while longer; Jerry would never give me a divorce, but I think it won't be too long now; his cirrhosis is becoming critical, but he won't stop drinking, so he's going to solve my problem for me, one way or another! Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic, and it's killed him, he just doesn't know it yet." Dad put his hand on my shoulder, time for us to leave. He looked one last time at Roisian. "Do you need a hand getting him back...?" and she shook her head. "Leave him there; he's used to it! He'll wake up in a few hours and go find a bottle of bourbon to clear his head, and he won't even remember this tomorrow. I'm sorry I can't do anything for Sarah, if only for Martin's sake, I know what my son's capable of, and I don't believe a word of his story; lying comes as easy to him a breathing, a trait he inherited in full from his father. I'm sorry, Mikey; please hug Sarah and Caitlin for me, just don't tell her about me, she doesn't need to know, not yet." Dad hugged his sister, and she hugged me, and all I could do was feel sorry for this beautiful, sad lady, my sister's aunt, who looked so much like her. We drove home in silence, dad only saying one thing to me. "Remember, Frank, Caitlin can't know that the man who hurt her sister like that is her own first cousin; my sister made me promise I'd never tell her, and I want the same promise from you; Caitlin's going to have enough to deal with without dealing with that as well." Of course I promised; I didn't want Sally finding out that Steve Dolan was her kid sister's cousin either, that was something she really didn't need to know. As the days passed, I gradually found it easier to put it from my mind. It wasn't such a deep, dark secret to keep, merely an unpleasant one, and if I didn't think about it, it didn't affect me, or so I thought; what I hadn't counted on was just how perceptive and smart Caitlin really was. She began to suspect that there was something up almost from the outset, as the knowledge I had gained imperceptibly colored my interaction with her; imperceptible to me, perhaps, but glaringly obvious to her. It all came to a head about a week later. Joe Anderson had found out about Sarah' condition, and, instead of lighting out of town at a dead run, had asked Sarah to marry him, surprising nearly everyone, including his own family, who wanted nothing to do with it, nor did they want Joe bringing-up someone else's child, but he was over 21, in love with Sarah, and, best of all, he was one of the honest to God good guys, a true White Hat, the guy who rode into town and saved the day. Mom was nearly fainting with relief, dad was walking around with a grin like a pumpkin, and Joe looked like he'd just scored the jackpot on 'Jeopardy', while Sarah was living in a dream world, plotting and planning her dream life with Joe. In the middle of this, early one morning, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I looked at my watch and it was seven o'clock; far too early for visitors, so I ignored it and rolled over to go back to sleep.