Page 9 of Jonathon, After All
While he had no desire to date anyone after Jonathon, it had been important for Leo to be seen with people who identified as both men and women. He had learned from his predecessor that hiding the truth and living a lie had terrible consequences and Leo had wanted to support Max and other queer Austrians. Only the most conservative Austrians seemed to be bothered that the new Margrave was bisexual. Leo was actually pansexual but the few reporters who were brave/rude enough to ask rarely understood the difference when he tried to explain.
But it was Leo’s dedication to conservation and combating climate change that had made him wildly unpopular with many people in and outside of Austria. One of Leo’s first official declarations as Margrave outlined his intent to rewild as much as the margraviate’s lands as possible and he shamelessly used his title and influence to inspire more rewilding initiatives across Europe.
It wasn’t long before he began receiving threats and strange packages so Leo agreed to a security team. But he insisted that he select the person in charge and had sent for Markus, a longtime friend and a veteran who had served with peacekeeping forces in Bosnia. Leo trusted him implicitly and knew when Markus didn’t want to tell him something.
“What is it?” he asked, making Markus flinch and swear under his breath.
“I’m not sure if Mr. Hawthorne is who you think he is. Or…perhaps he’s changed a great deal since you last spoke,” he suggested with a pained grimace.
“What are you talking about?”
There was another muttered curse as Markus took out his phone and swiped at the screen. “I’ve looked into him and… I’m sorry,” he said as he passed it to Leo.
“Sorry?” he asked and was immediately confused by the collage of bizarre images. Some nearly pornographic. “What am I looking at?”
“It’s Mr. Hawthorne’s Instagram account. He is a prolific…poster and likes to document…everything.”
“I see…” Leo said, even though nothing he was seeing made sense. He didn’t have any social media accounts because Leo didn’t want his personal life documented at all and he had heard too many horror stories.
His eyes grew wider and wider and his heart grew heavier and heavier as he scrolled, taking in what had to be hundreds of pictures of Jonathon in a befuddling array of outfits that ranged from hideously tacky to obscenely—and offensively—revealing. And there were numerous pictures of Jonathon in extremely suggestive poses and shocking situations with countless faceless men.
“Dear God,” Leo whispered hoarsely, blind to the outfits and the other men once he noticed that Jonathon’s hair was the focal point of every photo. Braided, beaded, twisted, and sculpted into wild styles and shapes as it grew longer and longer, it dangled off the sides of beds or was wound in large, glistening fists. That was Jonathon’s standard calling card shot after one-night stands, apparently.
The roses sent Leo’s heart crashing to his feet. White roses were in nearly every photo as well, scattered all over the page.
Save me, Leo.
He had been begging Leo to rescue him for years. “What have I done?”
“Did you find something?” Sabine asked Markus as she hurried into the room. “Has he been found?”
“Did you know about this?” Leo shouted and held up the phone while pieces of a very ugly puzzle began to slide into place.
“Know about what?” she said, but Leo knew as soon as her eyes flicked to the screen and the color drained from her face. “I didn’t see what any of it had to do with you and I thought it would have only caused you pain.”
“He was in pain!” Leo roared at Sabine, waving the phone. “He was hurting because of me and he was trying to get my attention.”
“You can’t be sure,” she said with a quick glance at Markus but he shook his head.
“I’ve never met the man so I can only take Leo’s word for it.”
“Leo, dearest!” She reached for him.
“Don’t,” he warned her, his heartache and fury rising as he tried to fathom how hopeless Jonathon must have felt as the months and years went by. “You should have told me.”
“That he was sleeping with other men? I did! Remember: he waited for about a month after Schönbühel before he started screwing anything that crossed his path.”
“You should have told me about the roses, then,” Leo said loudly. “Show me!”
“What? Why?” she asked but swiped through what must have been thousands of posts before returning the phone. “There. He had posted nothing but white roses until this picture of him on his knees in a limo.”
I miss you. Please come back.
Leo checked the date under the picture of Jonathon in the limo. “That was…a month after my assumption ceremony. This was when I was at Cannes with Sandringham. I told you I didn’t want to go until I’d talked to Jonathon!”
“So?” she challenged. “You had been apart for a month and it’s not like you promised him anything.”
“You don’t know what I promised him!” he snarled, causing her to rear back.