by C J Baty
Damien shrugged and walked to the office door. "I'm going back to Atlanta.
Tell Marcus, I no longer need his help. He can send me a bill for his services."
Damien walked down the hall to the bar and entered through the open arch.
Krystal was talking to a young man behind the counter whom Damien had never seen before. He smiled at Krystal, but she didn't return it and left him alone.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.
"Whiskey, straight."
Damien watched as the man poured his drink and placed it on the bar in front of him. He drank it in one swallow. How many drinks had he had in Justin's office? He couldn't remember.
"Another."
Though he gave Damien a strange look, the bartender poured him another drink. He downed it just as quickly.
"Another."
"Sir, I don't think...."
"You don't have to. Just pour me another drink," Damien growled out.
Getting drunk would not fix anything, but right now Damien didn't give a fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Robert stopped at the general store in Townsend before he headed up the winding road to his cabin. He'd bought supplies and some winter items he didn't normally have to keep on hand, like salt for any ice buildup and two new snow shovels.
"Done sold out of these shovels once already," Mr. Walker, the store owner, said. "These are the last two I've got now. Guess I'll have to place another order."
The folks in the small Tennessee town were getting ready for a blizzard.
Whether a winter storm would really show up had yet to be determined, but the below-freezing temperatures were making it look like it was a possibility.
The generator started right up for Robert, and he placed the extra cans of kerosene he'd purchased behind the shed. There wasn't any snow on the ground yet, but it had been raining and now there were patches of ice here and there. Robert dropped salt on the sites and put one bag inside the shed for later. He took the other to the back porch and left it where he could get to it easily if need be.
Robert loved his cabin. He'd inherited it from his grandfather years before and he had lovingly restored and updated the property. Inside, a fire blazed in the living room fireplace, giving the whole cabin a sense of warmth and peace. There was a picture of him and Alfie in happier times. They were playing outside the cabin in the snow.
Robert fixed a cup of coffee and took it with him as he sat on the couch in front of the fire. While his mind went over what Damien had said, his coffee went cold. Stewing over Damien would not change the fact that he was falling in love with the man. What he needed to do was get Damien out of his mind. The second bedroom in the cabin held his gym equipment. He needed a workout.
An hour later, sweat dripped from him as he dropped his damp clothes on the bathroom floor and stepped into the cabin's small shower. He barely had room to turn around, but the water was hot and his muscles relaxed as the spray worked its magic. The workout had been what he needed. Pushing his body always helped clear his mind.
He could hear his cell phone ringing when he stepped out of the shower to dry off. It went dead before he could answer. Cell reception was spotty this far up the mountain—one reason he had always felt like he was escaping the world when he came here. The phone rang again, and he could answer before it disconnected this time.
"Hey boss." Krystal broke off after just two words.
Robert pulled on a pair of sweats as he talked. "Krystal. The reception is awful right now." Robert hoped she could hear him.
"Call when... I need.... Just call soon."
The call ended, and Robert could see he had no bars at all. Krystal hadn't said it was an emergency, just that she needed to speak with him. It could wait until he went into town tomorrow. He had already been here two days and there was no reason to sit and nurse hurt feelings or give himself a pity party. He had a job to do, and no reason to stay here and hide. After all, it had been a one-off and meant nothing. He wished he could get his heart to understand that.
Robert opened the door to the cabin in the morning, surprised to see a light covering of snow on the ground. Flakes were floating softly through the air.
It wasn't a heavy, wet snow, so he assumed it wouldn't last long. It looked like the weather guys had been wrong after all.
At the bottom of the mountain, he stopped for breakfast at a local place which was buzzing with activity.
"What ya having this morning, Robert?" Chrissy, one of the regular waitresses asked. "Your usual?"
"Sure. That's fine." Robert looked around as Chrissy wrote his order. "What's with all the folks in town this morning?"
"Ain't you heard? There's a blizzard coming this way." She smiled as she headed off to the kitchen.
Robert listened to the conversations going on in the small diner and, sure enough, most of the folks were talking about the weather forecast. Guess it was a good thing he'd gone to the cabin when he did. Getting back to Beaufort, where it never snowed, sounded like a good idea. His cell phone rang, and he saw Krystal's smiling face light up his screen.
"Robert, are you okay?" Krystal's asked, the concern clear in her voice.
"I'm fine, honey. In fact, I'm heading back to the hotel this morning, after I eat my breakfast."
"What about the roads? We heard it was bad there."
"It's not that bad, and I drove down from the mountain okay. Don't worry.
The Jeep can take anything Mother Nature could throw at her. I'll see you in a few hours."
The traffic had been light on the highway, and there was less and less snow as he traveled south. He would be back at The Warfield mid-afternoon.
Plenty of time to check in with Krystal and get ready for the evening crowd.
No sense in making Bill work another double. Robert could fill in during the dinner shift and close up tonight. Staying busy was the best way to keep his mind off a certain someone.
Krystal had caught him as he entered the bar. She looked upset which was out of character for her.
"Hey," Robert said.
"Robert, I tried to call you but the connections were so bad, and I didn't have time to tell you this morning before we hung up." Dread clouded her eyes. "Your friend," she started, then stopped. "Your friend, Mr. Fitzgerald.
He was in here the day you left for your cabin. He was drinking and got into a fight with Bill. I had to break it up and ask him to leave."
Stunned, Robert didn’t know what to say. He couldn't imagine why Damien would act that way. "Did he leave?" Damien driving drunk was not a good thing.
"I guess he did. Justin told me he'd left the hotel later that evening."
Robert wasn't sure what to think about the situation, but he prayed Damien was all right.
The after-dinner crowd was quiet for a Thursday night. Robert hadn't seen Justin or Marcus since his return earlier in the day. Stacking the chairs on the tables, Robert busied himself until the last guest left the bar around one a.m. He grabbed his coat from the office and headed to the lobby. Justin and Marcus were deep in conversation and didn't notice his approach.
"He won't answer me, Marcus," Justin said.
"I know, but I don't know what we can do about it." Marcus placed his arms around Justin and pulled him into a hug.
"Couldn't you go to check up on him? I mean, he's been there two days already and not a word from him. I'm worried."
"Baby, he's a grown man. Hopefully, he'll go to the club and Stony will take care of him."
Robert watched them as they walked to the elevators in the far corner of the lobby.
"God, I hope so. At least he wouldn't be in his apartment alone." Justin wrapped his arms around Marcus's waist and kissed him.
Marcus pulled Justin closer and kissed him harder.
The two of them were so in love. It hurt Robert's heart to watch them. He wanted a relationship like theirs. Why did he always fall for the wrong man?
"Come on, let's go to bed." M
arcus kissed Justin's cheek as they stepped into the open elevator.
"I could use some sleep." Justin laughed as Marcus sneered at him.
"That's not what I meant and you know it!"
Justin laughed again and pulled Marcus to him by the lapels of his jacket. As the elevator doors closed, Robert heard Justin say, "Oh, I know babe. I know."
Robert drove to his apartment in silence. Beaufort at two in the morning was a ghost town. No one was about and it only took ten minutes to get home.
Even when he arrived there, his mind wouldn't shut down. Thoughts of Damien just wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't like Damien being in Atlanta by himself. Being alone wasn't smart. Should he call him? If he wasn't
answering Justin or Marcus, why would he answer Robert? The answer was, he wouldn't.
A hot shower later and lying in bed, his thoughts were still on Damien. He had no doubts now. Whether it was the smart thing or not, his feelings were invested in the situation. The same old problem he always had: falling for the wrong man. When would he ever learn? He realized now, his problems didn't matter. Damien needed protecting, whether he admitted it or not, and Robert would not let anyone hurt Damien. It was going to happen. He reached for the cell phone on the nightstand and dialed a number he knew all too well. The phone rang several times before an angry voice on the other line answered.
"Whoever this is, something better be on fire," Marcus shouted into the phone.
"Sorry, Marcus." Robert had forgotten seeing them before he left the hotel.
"I didn't mean to interrupt anything. Can I speak to Justin?"
"What the hell, Robert? Do you know what..." Marcus fussed at Justin, who was talking in the background. "Fine."
"Robert? What's wrong?" Justin asked. Robert could hear the sheets rustling.
"I wanted to let you know, I'm leaving again in the morning."
"What? Where are you going now?" Justin huffed, and Marcus was cursing.
"Atlanta," Robert said, and then added, "I'll let you know what I find when I get there."
Robert disconnected the call, setting the alarm on his phone for five. Three hours of sleep was enough, and surely Damien couldn't get into too much trouble before he got there.
Chapter Twelve
Damien had no idea how he got to Atlanta. The last thing he clearly remembered was sitting at the bar in The Warfield, arguing with that arrogant barman, Bill. The man had tried to cut off his drinks just when he was forgetting what had happened with Robert.
Krystal, Robert's pal, stopped him from plowing his fist into the guy. The sight of her reminded Damien of Robert, and what had happened between them. She asked Damien to leave, and he couldn't get out of there quick enough.
Damien woke on the couch in his office at the newspaper. Tony was fretting over him and repeatedly offering him coffee. The apartment was still a wreck and the cleaning crew wasn't due until tomorrow. He had to find a place to stay in the meantime.
"Stay with me," Tony said as he poured Damien another cup of coffee.
Damien hadn't realized he'd spoken his concerns aloud. Damien could not stay with Tony. It wasn't an option and he would not broach the conversation either.
"This isn't your problem," Damien said, then saw the downtrodden look on Tony's face. "I'm not an easy person to live with. As soon as my head stops thumping, I'll come up with a place."
"Let me get you some Tylenol. That will help with the headache." Tony scrambled to get a bottle out of Robert's desk drawer and open it. He handed Damien two tablets and a glass of water with a smile. Robert knew Tony was only trying to help.
"Thanks," Damien answered, and accepted the tablets. "I'm going to get out of here for a while and get into fresh clothes. How about we meet up for dinner later?"
Tony's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. It was wrong to give him any kind of hope that there could ever be anything between them. Damien struggled to think of something that could make it seem more like business, instead of a date.
"Did you get the information on the Houston project?" Damien asked, glad his brain was working well enough to remember that assignment.
"Yes." Tony's face fell for a moment, but he recovered. "Do you want to discuss the research papers at dinner?"
"I don't mind having a working meal. That okay with you?"
"Sure. Where do you want to meet?" Tony asked as he shuffled papers on the corner of Damien's desk.
Disappointment filled Tony's face. Damien didn't want to hurt him, but he knew it was the best thing to do.
"I'll call you after I make a stop to see a friend and let you know."
Damien was almost out the door when Tony called after him.
"Oh, I forgot. That man was back again, looking for you. He's very attractive, with blond hair and the palest gray eyes I've ever seen."
Damien felt a chill run down his spine. Carter.
He didn't make it to dinner with Tony.
Damien didn't want to go back to his apartment. It was still a mess and he needed a new bed too. Going to the club seemed like the right thing to do.
"Sure. You can use the apartment for as long as needed." Stony hugged him and handed Damien a key to the apartment on the third floor above the Gentleman's Club. "I haven't used it since Ian's death."
"Thanks, Stony. The cleaning staff will finish with my apartment tomorrow and then I've got to get some new furniture delivered. I should be out of your hair in two or three days." Damien stuck the key in his pocket and picked up the drink he had ordered while waiting for Stony to arrive.
The Gentleman's Club was an exclusive nightclub for gay men in the Atlanta entertainment district. It wasn't advertised and was very discreet. In recent years, things had become more open for gay men, even in the Deep South, so business was booming. The club was full of men of every shape and size enjoying each other's company. Stony Whitecastle opened Gentleman's over twenty years ago, and a lot had changed in that time. His partner, Ian, a former lover of Justin's, was murdered two summers ago. Stony never quite recovered from the loss. They had been together for ten years.
"How are you doing?" Damien asked.
"You know," Stony answered as he looked out at the crowded dance floor.
"I'm an old fag, Damien. There's nobody out there for someone like me."
Stony motioned for a waiter and ordered another round of drinks.
"It's a cold and lonely world when you've experienced love, only to have it taken from you when you are too old to start over again," he said, his eyes lost somewhere in the past.
"That's nonsense, Stony." Damien tried to keep the ache out of his voice.
"You'll find someone new, just you wait and see."
Damien unlocked the apartment door and dropped his bags on the bed.
There wasn't much to the place. It was one large room with a king-size bed in one corner and a small sofa and table in another. A kitchenette with a mini fridge, microwave and sink lined the wall next to the bathroom. It looked more like a cheap hotel room than an apartment. Stony and Ian owned a home in Miami and a condo in Atlanta. The apartment at the club was from Stony's single days. It had a large shower, big enough for two, though, and Damien took advantage of the space.
Hot water beating down his back felt good. It relaxed achy muscles and let the tension in his body escape in the steam. Stony's words haunted Damien.
"It's a cold and lonely world when you've experienced love, only to have it taken from you when you are too old to start over again." As Damien stepped out of the shower and dried off, he wondered if he had ever known what love was. Leaving the towel in the bathroom, he found a pair of sleep pants to pull on.
He'd been fond of some of his lovers in the past, but other than Justin, there had been no one he thought he was in love with. Not until Carter, and what a fiasco that had been. If that was love, Damien didn't want any part of it.
Deep inside, Damien knew Carter had never loved him. Not at the beginning and definitely not at t
he end. Carter had not only stripped Damien of his pride and self-assurance, he had taken away his ability to trust anyone enough to fall in love. Damien had never seen it until now. That he couldn't
let anyone get close, even after all this time, showed him that Carter was still controlling his life.
Damien filled a crystal glass that sat on the counter next to a decanter of whiskey. He picked up the glass as he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror across the room. Carter was still ruling over him, torturing him. Carter was still winning. Anger exploded in Damien's chest, burning through him like a raging fire. He threw the glass across the room at his reflection and watched as the mirror cracked and splintered into spidery veins.
"Not anymore, Carter! You will no longer control my feelings and what I do!"
The next morning, his phone rang, waking him from a restless sleep. It hadn't been a good night. Dreams and nightmares had woken often, and he'd drunk more than he should have, trying to block out Carter's face.
Once, he'd been dreaming about Robert, the warmth of his skin wrapped around Damien like it had the night Robert held him. Then, Carter entered the dream, bringing it crashing down around Damien. The ringing phone drew his attention again.
"Good morning." Tony's cheerful voice made Damien's head hurt even more.
"Hi." It was all he could muster.
"I'm sorry you didn't make dinner last night. It sounds like someone is in need of coffee and some good news."
Damien could hear the rustle of paper through the line and waited for Tony to get his act together. "Good news?" he asked as he pushed himself to sit up in the bed.
"Yeah. I think I've found what you want on the Houston story. You were right.
The connection between all those properties was right where you said it would be. I overlooked it the first three times."
"That's great," Damien answered, though he wasn't interested anymore.
Tony mumbled on for a few more minutes before Damien realized where his assistant was going with the information. Throwing back the covers, Damien placed his feet on the floor and looked around the room for his pants.