by Ashton Cade
“Please, I promise,” I cry.
Finally, mercifully, the blows stop.
Everything hurts. Everything’s screaming with pain—everything but me. I’m curled up against the exam table quietly crying, praying the next thing I hear is him walking out the door.
He yanks at the elastic band on my scrub pants, and new panic floods through me, a new need to fight even though the memory of the beating is still all too fresh, not even really a memory yet.
It’s during a brief lull in my crying and his cursing that we hear someone knocking, the front door rattling.
It’s unlocked, I remember, hope surging through me.
“Help!” I scream, using every bit of strength I can summon before Dr. Peterson backhands me, eyes boring into me with a dark promise.
“No one will ever believe you,” he growls, jabbing a finger at me before he heads out of the exam room, the alarm sounding as he trips the back door.
Slowly, I manage to stagger to my feet and out into the exam room just in time to hear him. Garrett.
“Eli?”
I want to call out to him, but I whimper instead, sobbing taking over.
He’s here.
The only person in the world I want here right now. And like magic, he is.
“Eli? Eli!” he cries, running to me, scowling as he looks me over. “What the hell…?” he asks, brushing my hair away from my face, taking stock of my injuries.
“You’re here,” I mutter, clinging to him.
“You freaked me out last night… and this morning… I haven’t heard from you all day so I wanted to see if everything was… What the hell happened, Eli?”
My throat’s tight at the last words Dr. Peterson said to me.
No one will ever believe you.
I’m afraid he’s right.
What reason would anyone have to believe me?
I shake my head and cling to him. “Can you just take me home?”
Garrett frowns, looking at me like I’m crazy.
“No, we’re calling Ryan,” he says. “And we’re getting these injuries treated. Where’s the doctor?”
My blood turns to ice, stomach churning, bile shooting up my throat like I’m a science fair volcano ready to blow. I shake my head, and that makes matters worse, everything swimming and hurting.
“I don’t want Dr. Peterson to treat me, please,” I mutter, knowing how suspicious that’s going to be, not even caring. There’s only so much I can endure. Another minute at the hands of that man—even with Garrett standing close by—is not something I can handle.
Garrett senses that there’s more to the story than he’s getting; I can tell by the way he narrows his eyes at me. But he doesn’t say anything. He takes me back into one of the other exam rooms, lays me down, and calls Dr. Barnes.
I can’t hear everything he’s saying while he’s in the hallway talking to her, but I can tell he’s sweet talking her into coming down. As far as I know, she hasn’t given birth yet.
I really don’t want to have to go to the hospital. I’d rather just move on and put the whole thing behind me. Maybe never see Dr. Peterson again if I can manage that.
My gut turns, acid sloshing around.
Somehow, I don’t see him making things that easy on me.
Garrett
Pacing like a caged lion, I wait at the door for Dr. Barnes to arrive. She’s only moments before Ryan, and I hook my thumb over my shoulder, telling her Eli’s in the back before I head out to greet my brother.
“What the hell happened?” Ryan asks, frowning as the lights in the parking lot click on, dusk only just setting in.
“He won’t tell me,” I grumble, the admission like acid burning through me. I thought we were closer than this. What could he be trying to keep from me?
“You’ve got an idea, though,” Ryan says, reading me like a damn book. He’s got an edge—he’s my brother and a cop. How could I stand a chance at keeping anything from him?
“Maybe,” I say, folding my arms, looking back toward the clinic. I know Dr. Barnes will take good care of Eli, but I want to be in there with him anyway. The faster I tell Ryan my suspicions, the faster I can be with him.
“Dr. Peterson,” I say, making Ryan jerk back with a scowl.
“Seriously? That’s a big accusation, bro.”
“Yeah, well, check into him. He gave me a weird feeling, and Eli didn’t want him to treat him.”
Ryan sighs, scratching at the stubble on his cheek. He looks like he’s had as long a day as I have.
“Yeah, I’ll run his background,” he agrees, nodding. “Let’s get Eli’s side of the story first, shall we?”
I nod, everything in me tight in preparation. I want to believe everything’s going to be all right, but the feeling that Eli’s keeping things from me, holding the power to break my heart over my head… it’s not encouraging.
When we head into the exam room, Dr. Barnes is bandaging a cut over Eli’s brow. He’s not so covered in blood now, and I’ve gotta admit it looks a lot less dire for it. He’s still bruised and obviously has had a hell of a time, but he doesn’t look like he survived a horror-villain encounter anymore.
“How are you doing?” Ryan asks, looking Eli over long enough to spark jealousy in me, even though I know Ryan’s got eyes for no one but his husband.
“I’ve been better,” Eli laughs, trying a joke, but none of us are laughing with him.
“Mind telling me what happened?” Ryan asks, hooking his thumb in a belt loop casually.
Eli licks his lips, eyes darting to me, then Dr. Barnes, then back to Ryan.
“Uh… A junkie broke in… I… I didn’t have anything to give him, so…”
Dr. Barnes makes a face. “The medicine locker doesn’t have a scratch on it,” she says, giving Ryan a meaningful look I don’t really understand. “We don’t keep narcotics on hand, anyway. And we’ve got signs all over, posted up after a couple of break-ins a few years ago.”
“Junkies aren’t known for using reason,” Ryan says with a shrug.
He might be able to look past it that simply, but I can’t. I can’t just ignore the evidence, how none of it’s adding up the way Eli says it should. I can’t take it anymore. I tried to give him a chance to come clean, to tell everyone on his own, but clearly it isn’t happening.
“Why don’t you drop the act and tell them what Dr. Peterson did to you?” I say all at once, shocking myself as much as Eli and Dr. Barnes. Her mouth drops, a silent gasp drawn into her lungs.
Ryan sighs.
“Dr. Barnes, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room, please,” he says.
She makes a face. “Am I needed at all? I’ve treated Eli’s injuries—”
“No, you’re free to go,” Ryan says with a curt nod. Dr. Barnes nods back, then sends a look to Eli that I don’t fully understand. He swallows and looks away as she leaves.
Once it’s just the three of us, I take a deep breath and try to be a little gentler.
“Eli, we wanna help, babe. Talk to us.”
Eli makes a face, looking down at his lap. He shakes his head.
“It was him, but I don’t want to press charges,” he says, and I’m sure I didn’t hear him right. Surely he didn’t just say he doesn’t wanna press charges against the guy that nearly beat him to death.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” I grumble. Ryan shoots me a firm glare, a quick hand gesture telling me to zip it.
“What set off the attack?” Ryan asks, much calmer about this than I’d ever be able to manage. Guess that’s why he’s the professional.
Eli licks his lips, swallows, and shakes his head again, like he’s having some great big debate with himself.
“I can’t… I can’t tell you that or everything… Everything would come out and it would ruin us,” he says, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
There’s no way to stay mad at him when he’s so broken and vulnerable like this. He needs me to be there for him, even if I don
’t understand what he’s been through or why he’s still holding back on me. I move into his side, and slowly slide my arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” I whisper, cradling him gently against me. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Eli shakes his head, tears in his eyes. “Garrett… I can’t,” he whispers, pleading with me.
“You can, babe,” I tell him, trying to keep my anger at bay as I take stock of his injuries. That piece of shit Peterson’s gonna pay for this.
“You’ll hate me,” Eli says, sniffling.
“I won’t,” I assure him. “Nothing could make me hate you. I wanna take care of you, protect you from that asshole. But you’ve gotta help me help you. Help us,” I say, looking at Ryan, who nods. I know I’m not trained in all this shit, but he seems to think I’m doing all right for the moment.
Eli takes a shaky breath and lets it out in a shuddering sigh, blinking up at me. It’s obvious that he still doesn’t believe me, or think that I’m going to accept whatever he has to say. But he’s got no idea how crazy I am about him, how convinced I already was that I’m in love with him, and that was before I saw him in this state and my caveman protective instincts kicked in.
Now I’m not sure I’m ever gonna be able to let him out of my sight again.
“Well… I told you how my parents kicked me out when I was young?” Eli says, voice trembling. I nod, still holding him, making sure he knows I’m here for him.
“I had to find a way to support myself…” Eli continues, finally breaking down and telling me the whole thing. He tells me about being homeless and cold and hungry, about finding a friend who told him how he could make money—selling his body, the only thing he had. Then he tells us about the history with Dr. Peterson. He doesn’t get graphic, but I don’t need him to. I see the pain in his eyes when he talks about it, the haunted look that comes over his expression. Ryan sees it too, giving me a look.
What’s worse is that Eli’s obviously ashamed by it all. He’s embarrassed to admit what he did, and afraid I’m going to reject him over it.
I hold him tighter.
I’m shaking with barely-contained rage, but it’s not at Eli or any of the things he’s done. It’s at his parents. His clients. His need to hide his past and all the incredible things he’s overcome.
I’m mad on his behalf, and I lean in to kiss his bandaged temple.
“You don’t have anything to be ashamed about, Eli,” I tell him, throat tight, heart hurting for him and the innocence he lost. “You’re a survivor, babe. I love that about you,” I tell him, stopping just short of dropping the whole bomb.
Eli smiles—the first one I’ve seen since I found him tonight—and a flash of hope flits through his expression before falling away.
“You’ll lose the election, though,” he says. “When people find out what I’ve done… Who I am…” He bites his lip before hissing at the pain from the split in it.
“I don’t care, Eli,” I tell him, for what seems to be the thousandth time. Maybe this time it’ll get through to him. “I’m pretty sure at this point, Clary’s gonna be more disappointed if I lose than I am.”
He’s still hesitant to give me that hopeful smile, but I see it creeping in, trying to take hold.
Ryan clears his throat, looking at his tablet with his brows drawn together in concern.
“Got Dr. Peterson’s record,” he says. “He’s got a solicitation charge from a dozen years ago. That guy wasn’t underage, but the doctor’s not in a good position to be throwing around accusations with this on his record.”
Eli swallows, sitting up a little straighter. “Do you think you could just get him to leave me alone if I don’t press charges?”
Ryan’s face betrays him immediately. “I’ve gotta file this, Eli. I’m a mandated reporter, you know that. There’s no not-pressing-charges option.”
Eli’s face turns to panic, and he looks at me frantically, hoping for some kind of salvation I wish I could provide but clearly can’t.
“No one’s going to believe me. I was a fixteen-year-old prostitute, and he’s a respected doctor. Please Ryan, this is going to be so much worse for me…”
“Ryan, come on,” I say, torn. I want this Peterson bastard drawn and quartered and flayed alive and any other number of terrible things I can imagine, but I also want Eli happy. I know he wants to move on from this whole thing, and as much as I don’t want to, I’ve got to admit he might have a point. After how the folks turned on me at the debate the other day, I’m not so confident that everyone would be on Eli’s side. I don’t want to drag him through that unnecessarily.
My brother looks like he’s truly sorry, but he shakes his head. “I can’t look the other way on this,” he says, the conviction in his tone enough to tell me there’s no point arguing. When Ryan’s made up his mind, it’s made up. No getting around it.
Eli sputters a protest as Ryan’s leaving, but I just hold him, shushing his worries. It’s not enough, I know it’s not, but it’s all I can do for him right now. He’s so vulnerable and broken, and everything’s falling apart.
How could I have not known all that about his past?
It makes some sense, though. And it certainly explains all his weirdness about Dr. Peterson the past few weeks.
“It’s all gonna be all right,” I tell him, holding him tight, my heart hurting for how bad I failed him. He was counting on me.
I can’t even stomach the thought of what would have happened if I’d been a few minutes later. Or shit, if I hadn’t decided to come to the clinic at all. The kind of anger Dr. Peterson must be holding onto to inflict this kind of damage…
I’m not sure I believe he would’ve been able to stop himself from killing Eli. Especially knowing the damage to his career and reputation the assault could do.
I hold him tighter, my throat closing up, tears welling up in my eyes at the very imagined thought I was going to be too late. It’s enough to push me to the brink of tears, and I kiss his bandaged head again, reluctant to pull my lips away at all.
“It’s gonna be all right,” I say again, not sure if I’m telling him or me at this point. I wanna believe it. I wanna believe it so bad. And right now, I’ve got him. He’s in my arms, he’s safe, the unthinkable didn’t happen, and I know to be more vigilant than ever.
Maybe things will be okay.
“Garrett?” Eli asks, his voice soft, small, exhausted.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Take me home?”
“Your place or mine?” I ask, the response automatic. Eli gives me a tired smile, turns his head and puckers his lips exaggeratedly. I give him a big, silly kiss that turns more serious, slowly morphing into my tongue dipping between his lips, sliding against his, drawing a soft whimper from his chest.
“Yours,” he says. “I know it’s probably dumb, but I don’t want to be at my place until Ryan finds him.”
“That’s not dumb,” I say, helping him to his unsteady feet. Dr. Barnes seems to think he’s mostly all right, no broken bones at least, but he’s shaky, clearly exerting himself just to stay upright. But I’m here to support him, here for him to lean on.
And I always will be. There’s no way he’s getting rid of me now. Not now that I’ve had the flash of what life could be like without him in it. Not now that I know what I’d be losing.
He’s not going anywhere.
“But if you think there’s a chance in hell I’m leaving you alone for even a minute…”
“I hope you’re not,” Eli says, the slight panic in his eyes all too real.
“No way, babe. No fucking way,” I assure him, happy that that’s enough to make him relax against me again.
“Good.”
“You’re stuck with me, Eli Sanders. And I’m gonna make sure nothing ever happens to you again.”
He smiles, chuckling softly. “I don’t know about nothing,” he protests, even while I’m having to practically lift him up into my tr
uck because he’s practically Gumby right now.
“How ’bout we save the renegotiations for another day?” I offer.
“So diplomatic, Mr. Politician,” he chirps as I coax him into putting on his seatbelt instead of lying across my lap. The shock’s started to wear off and fade into delirium or something. He’s the medical expert that would understand what’s happening better. I’m just here along for the ride. And to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself on it.
Hopefully after a good night’s sleep, we’ll be able to talk about some of this. Really talk about it. I’m sick of being in the dark when it’s about my future.
And it is. There’s no doubt about that anymore. Eli’s my future. His past is part of mine now, too. I’m not going to hold any of it against him—especially not after what he told us tonight about how he fought for survival time and again—but I do need to know exactly how deep this goes and what we’re dealing with.
And I should probably warn Clary.
But that’s a problem for another time. Right now I’m not thinking about getting elected. I’m not thinking about voter perceptions or keeping my cousin happy. I’m thinking about the man I love, and making sure he’s taken care of and safe. And no one, not even Clary, is gonna make me feel guilty for it.
Eli
Garrett wasn’t kidding about not leaving my side. It’s been a couple of days since the assault—Clary’s been staying with Aislynn and Derick while I’m here—and we still haven’t had any updates.
Nothing about Dr. Peterson.
Or about Craig and Libby.
It’s too much to think about, too much to dwell on, and whenever I try, my head starts hurting and exhaustion takes over again.
I didn’t really think that the attack was all that bad, but the day after I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. Garrett made sure I took a hot bath to ease my muscles, rubbing peppermint oil into my joints, heating up my skin, making me want him more than ever.