Roaring Waters

by C J Baty

  "Sorry. I tried not to startle you." Damien's voice was soft and low. "Your focus was centered on the stars."

  "It's okay. Not your fault. I was caught up in the night time show." Robert let a smile grow on his lips.

  "Do you mind." Damien gestured to a spot on Robert's left. Robert motioned for him to sit. "I love looking at the sky when the stars are this bright,"

  Damien said.

  This surprised Robert. He'd never imagined that Damien was still long enough to enjoy the stars.

  "Look, there's Orion." Damien pointed toward the sky.

  "I know, and Cassiopeia is sparkling tonight," Robert added.

  They chatted for a while about different star groups and constellations.

  Robert listened intently as Damien talked excitedly about the first time he saw the Southern Cross and the Aurora Borealis. Robert never traveled far enough from home to experience something so special. It had been a dream of his since he was a kid.

  "Someday, I'd like to be able to see them in person," Robert stated.

  "You should. I never get tired of looking at the stars, no matter where I am."

  Robert laughed.

  Damien looked at him quizzically.

  "I never imagined you sitting down in one place long enough to notice there were stars in the heavens, much less knowing as much about them as you do."

  Damien laughed. "I could say the same of you."

  Robert chuckled. "That's probably true."

  Robert rose and dusted the sand from his pants. He offered Damien a hand up.

  At first, all Damien did was stare at Robert's hand, but finally he accepted the offer and stood. "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  "I'll see you around," Damien said as he walked off down the beach.

  Robert watched him go and tried to make sense of the emotions Damien stirred in him. The strange thing was, the conversation with Damien

  Fitzgerald had left him neither angry nor frustrated. Maybe the stars did hold some magic after all.

  Chapter Three

  Damien woke with a painful erection. He realized it was the first morning wood he'd had in months. And all because of Robert Wyler? That thought sent him into a tail spin. It was ridiculous, but Robert Wyler attracted him like no man had in a long time. It was a mistake, and he knew it. Robert Wyler was not his type. A hulk of a man with a rock hard body, bulging biceps and barbed wire tattoos had never attracted him. But then, there were his eyes. Those soft gray orbs seemed to hold a world of emotion behind them, but Damien couldn't forget, the body was more than he wanted to handle. Damien wondered what kind of power Robert held back from the world. There might be a lot of anger deep inside a man like that. What secrets hid in the depths of those dark seas?

  Damien rose from the bed and stretched. His erection diminished enough to relieve himself. He finished up, washed his hands and gazed in the mirror above the sink. His normally trim and neat appearance needed desperate repair. He grabbed his razor and the shaving cream from his luggage and trimmed his Van Dyke into submission. Several minutes later, he regarded his reflection, pleased to see a face that was more familiar. A shower and washing his hair would go a long way to improving his mood too.

  He spent just enough time in the shower to take care of his needs, then dried off. In the bedroom, he rummaged through his bag, wanting something comfortable to wear. He pulled out a favorite pair of jeans, sliding them on.

  They hung on his hips after he zipped them up. When had he lost this much weight? He pulled a light blue sweater over his head. Its warmth wrapped him in a cocoon of comfort. That the color of the sweater emphasized his dark hair and pale blue eyes made him seem more like himself, more assured. His self-confidence took a leap as he caught his reflection on the way out the door.

  Downstairs, he found Justin and Marcus in the office and told them he was on his way to get some breakfast.

  "Want to join me?" he asked both men.

  "We already ate, but we'll join you in a little while for coffee," Justin said.

  "You look better this morning. Did you sleep well?"

  "Yes, I did as a matter of fact. I enjoyed a stroll on the beach last night and admired the stars. It helped me sleep." He smiled at Justin.

  "That's great, Damien. I'm glad you got some rest." Justin hugged him, and Damien left to get something to eat.

  In the restaurant, Sally brought him a menu and coffee where he sat by a window. Watching the birds flock on the dunes had him feeling more relaxed than he had in months.

  "Hello, Damien. Coffee?"

  "Yes, please," he said as she filled the cup already turned up on his table.

  "Do you know what you want to eat or should I come back?"

  "I think I'll have a Spanish omelet and wheat toast," he said, smiling up into her face. "Easy on the peppers."

  Damien had quickly noticed the tiny round bump under her apron. Peter was going to be a dad. Justin had told him yesterday that they were expecting.

  Everyone was looking forward to the little one coming in the spring.

  "I'll get your order right in," Sally said, and turned to leave.

  "Sally," Damien said. "Is everything okay? I mean, with the baby."

  Her face lit up in a radiant smile. She glowed as she patted her middle. "A little morning sickness, but it's getting better. We weren't expecting this surprise, but the baby was exactly what we needed to move into the future, away from the awful last year."

  "I know Justin is excited about being an uncle. I'm very happy for all of you."

  "Thank you, Damien. Better get this to the kitchen."

  Damien's phone pinged: a text message. He recognized the number.

  D just wanted 2 say hi & hope U r ok. Tony.

  Damien smiled and answered, he was. He put cream and a little sugar in his coffee and stirred the mixture together. The cup warmed his freezing hands.

  His mind drifted to the time he had spent with Robert last night. He smiled at the thought they had something in common. He hadn't expected that.

  His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was another incoming text.

  Damien was sure it would be Tony again, so he didn't even look at the number.

  You can run but I will find you. You are mine .

  Damien dropped his phone on the floor and stared at it.

  "I think you dropped this," Robert said as he retrieved Damien's phone and handed it to him.

  Stunned, Damien tried to think of what he should do. Mad at whoever the hell was doing this to him, he reacted, taking his anger out on Robert.

  "I'll thank you to stay out of it," Damien shouted, and rose from his chair, dropping his phone a second time.

  Robert grabbed it before it crashed to the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "Nothing! Leave me the fuck alone," Damien yelled as Sally returned with his breakfast.

  "Sorry, Sally, but I have to go."

  He rushed past both Robert and Sally and didn't stop to look back. He was barely breathing when he almost knocked Marcus to the ground as he hurried down the hall to Justin's office. Marcus touched him and he stepped back.

  "Damien?"

  Damien handed his phone to Marcus. As he read the message, Marcus's face fell.

  "He couldn't know where you are, Damien. You told no one you were coming here. It's just a ploy to keep you off balance." Marcus tried to console him.

  "He will never stop." A ragged breath tore through Damien as he spoke.

  "Come on." Marcus led him to Justin's office and opened the door.

  "I was just coming to tell you, I've got news on Theodore Walker."

  "And?" Damien asked as he took a seat on the corner couch.

  "And he's still in prison. I spoke to the warden at the Georgia State Prison this morning. He said, Walker had been a model prisoner but wasn't up for early parole for another two years."

  Damien watched as Marcus looked over at Justin. Something wasn't being said. "What else?" h
e asked, sitting up straighter.

  "Marcus also asked the warden about Carter Preston," Justin said, staring at Damien. "He told Marcus that it was Moses Lee who got Carter released early. He had vouched for him."

  "What!" Damien felt like someone had punched him in the gut. How could they have not known this before now? "The warden didn't tell me that when he notified me that Carter was being released."

  He leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes and resting his head. This was a fucking mess. Moses Lee, the man who had tried to murder Justin and Marcus, who had killed Caroline Warfield, had known Carter well enough to get him out of prison. Why? Why would he do that?

  The blackness was gripping him. He could feel it creeping along his spine.

  Jumping from his position on the couch, Damien ran for the door. He'd felt panic before. He knew what was coming and he couldn't stand still and let it take him. Get away, his mind shouted. He had to get away as fast as he could. But he didn't make it.

  The room was cold, and he was naked on the floor. Chains held his arms around a pole in the center of the room. He had no idea how long he'd been there. Days. He'd lost count. So thirsty. So hungry. His stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. Damien's strength was long gone; he could barely lift his arms. This was how Carter had wanted him. He was being punished. This was how it always started. Left alone for days, no food or water, until he would beg Carter. He'd do anything Carter asked him to do. Footsteps on the stairs leading down to the basement caused adrenalin to pulse through his veins. He couldn't fight Carter. He had to get away. Had to run.

  Damien felt the hard wall of muscle as he slammed into it. Strong arms wrapped around him, holding his own to his side. The other arms were too strong. He screamed for Carter to let him go. He screamed for someone to help him. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he kicked out.

  Another voice yelled as his shoe made contact with bone. Damien kicked more. The surrounding arms twirled him like a top and his back was now flush against that solid chest. His own arms locked at his side, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free. Someone was sobbing. It was him.

  Great pain-laced wails bubbled out of him. He couldn't stop shaking. Then a voice, a soft, soothing voice, whispered in his ear, the breath warm and teasing against his skin.

  "Baby, you're okay. Shush," the voice said over and over. "I've got you. He's gone. Carter is not here. Please, baby, calm down."

  He could hear other voices now. Marcus was calming Justin, telling him everything would be okay. Yet the only voice Damien wanted to hear was the one telling him, "It's all right. I've got you."

  "Damien, take deep breaths. You need to slow your heartbeat. Shush. I've got you."

  It was working; he could feel his breathing slow, and his heart stopped racing. Then exhaustion took over and his body went lax. The last thing he heard was that voice telling him, "Relax. Go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake."

  Sometime later, Damien didn't know how long, he awoke but didn't open his eyes. He was lying on a bed in a dark room. Was it daytime or night time?

  He knew he could have been out for hours. That had happened in the past when he'd suffered a panic attack. Someone sitting in a chair next to the bed moved in the seat. Damien opened his eyes to see Justin. His friend looked awful.

  "Good, you're awake," Justin said as he leaned across the bed and took Damien's hand. "You scared the fuck out of all of us."

  Damien tried to smile but wasn't sure if he did. He squeezed Justin's hand.

  Life had been full of people who had come and gone, yet Justin was still here. There weren't too many friends like him in Damien's life.

  "Can I get you something?" Justin asked.

  Damien's throat was sore and sounded scratchy when he spoke, "Water.

  Cold, with ice."

  He must have screamed a lot for his voice to sound this bad and his throat to feel so raw. He hadn't had one this bad in years.

  "Panic attack." One-or two-word sentences was all he could get out for a little while.

  "I know," Justin said as he rose. "I'll get you something to drink. How about broth or soup?"

  Damien answered, "Okay," but he wasn't sure he could swallow much of anything but the water.

  Justin left him alone for only a few minutes, but it was long enough for Damien to realize, he'd made a fool out of himself. After he was released from the hospital, the panic attacks had happened so often they became a part of his life. Over time his body healed, but it took much longer for the mental abuse he had endured to ease. Carter had nearly destroyed him. This was the first attack he'd had in two years, and this one was so much worse than the last. It was like the ones he'd had after he was first rescued. He'd thought he was finally over them. That he had his life back and Carter's presence was gone. He'd been wrong.

  "Here you go," Justin said as he set a glass on the bedside table.

  He helped Damien sit up in bed and then handed him the water. It was cold, and soothed the rawness in Damien's throat. He sipped the water and felt Justin's eyes following every move he made. It was unnerving.

  "Stop watching me."

  "Sorry," Justin said. "I was just so worried about you. How do you feel now?"

  "Been better."

  "I'm sure." A knock at the door interrupted Justin. "Ah, that's the broth, and I ordered you a cup of tea too."

  Justin left, then returned with a tray. He set it on the bedside table where the water had been. Damien set the water down and reached for the tea.

  Bringing it to his lips, he could smell the lemon; Justin knew he liked his tea with lemon. The warmth of the cup felt like a balm to his soul, and the tea was soothing as he drank it slowly.

  The phone rang in the other room and Justin went to answer it.

  "Yes, he's awake. He's drinking tea at the moment. No, you will not come up here and ask him questions again." Justin sighed. "Let him rest, please, Marcus. This can wait a day."

  Damien heard Justin say thank you, and then he hung up. "Marcus said he hoped you were feeling better."

  "He's just trying to help, Justin," Damien offered, before he took another drink of the tea.

  He'd quickly recovered from the episode. Maybe he wouldn't need the Ativan again. The bottle was in his bag, but he'd come out of this attack without feeling the need to take a pill. The last thing he wanted was to be drugged up again.

  "I know, but something set you off—"

  Damien held up his hand for Justin to stop. "Yes, it did. But I'm okay now, so let's just forget about it. I must have passed out pretty quickly because I remember little of what happened." Damien noticed the look of curiosity on Justin's face.

  "You don't remember Robert talking you down?"

  Damien almost dropped the hot cup of tea in his lap. "Robert Wyler?"

  Justin laughed. "You don't remember?"

  Stunned, Damien shook his head.

  "You ran straight into him. I wanted to help, but he could calm you down without help from anyone. You put up quite a fight. He's got a huge bruise on one of his shins where you kicked him." Justin laughed. "You eventually relaxed and passed out in his arms. He carried you upstairs so I could put you to bed."

  "How long?" Damien asked.

  "How long were you out? Since midmorning yesterday."

  Damien's thoughts focused on Robert. He had been the one holding him.

  Robert was the man behind that voice, that soothing, calming, gentle voice?

  How would Damien be able to face him again?

  Chapter Four

  "C ome on, Robert. Give me five more reps. Where the hell is your head today?" Taylor Long said as he stood at the end of the bench, looking down at Robert. He steadied the weights.

  Robert was distracted, and he knew it. Damien Fitzgerald, and the way he looked yesterday morning, was still firmly planted in Robert's mind. The picture of the hysterical man, screaming and thrashing, had been disturbing.

  Damien had su
ffered a horrible panic attack, running from something traumatic that only he could see. Robert's heart still hurt thinking about it.

  "Robert, look man," Taylor said. "You already missed yesterday's workout.

  Get your head together and focus."

  Robert grabbed the barbell and pushed it upward. Dropped it down and pushed it up again. As he let his body take over, the endorphins began to do their job. Robert finished the five reps and did ten more. Taylor smiled at him as sweat dripped from his body.

  He moved onto the leg press, completing the exercises he needed to do there. Finally, he moved to the treadmill, set the machine for his favorite incline and started his run. An hour and a half later, showered and dressed, he was on his way to the hotel. Krystal was expecting to meet him at the bar at eleven.

  Once he had his concentration back, the workout went better and thoughts of Damien had fled his mind. Now, in his Jeep and driving, the scene from yesterday came back in full force. And all his attention was focused on Damien Fitzgerald. Which was totally crazy.

  Just because the man had a meltdown yesterday, didn't change the fact that Robert had no business being attracted to him. He was everything that Robert detested in a person—self-centered and smart mouthed—yet, he seemed to enjoy the stars as much as Robert did. Arrogant to a fault, but yesterday, he'd been as vulnerable as any human being could be. That Damien's body had felt so damned good pressed up against his, when he was holding him, didn't mean a thing. Except that, maybe, he needed to get laid.

  Always on time, Krystal was waiting for him as he rounded the corner to the lounge. He unlocked the door as she smiled at him strangely.

  "Well, if it isn't the knight in shining armor in all his handsome glory."

  Krystal laughed as he opened the doors for her to go through.

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He stood still in the doorway, staring after her.

  "You saved Damien Fitzgerald yesterday. The whole staff is talking about it,"

  she said as she set her bag on the bar and removed her coat. The days were getting chillier.

  "There's nothing to talk about." Robert opened the door to the office and hung his coat on the rack inside the door.