Reclaiming Love

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Reclaiming Love Page 20

by Vicki McElfresh


  "Then why isn't he in jail? Can't he be put in jail for such things?"

  Kevin glanced at Karen before slowly lowering his gaze. “I'd wager your superiors could care less about me."

  She was silent for a moment, chewing her lip. “It's been a bit of a challenge. The assault charges are your word against his, even with the evidence I have. And stalking is always a touchy thing, no matter who the players are."

  He closed his eyes, and the panic rushed back. “What does he have to do to me before you can do something?"

  "I can hold him for forty-eight hours for questioning. Maybe in that time I can get my warrants. I can take your mother's statement and press stalking charges, but Kevin, he's got plenty of resources, and he won't stay in jail for long. I'd wager as soon as I arrest him, he'll want to call his lawyer. I might keep him there long enough for you to find someplace to live, even if that's a hotel, and get your credit cards, license and banking in order. I would recommend you leave town, start over somewhere else, but I know that isn't going to happen."

  Kevin nodded, her admission confirming what he'd already expected.

  "That's it? That's all you can do?” His mother actually sounded outraged, and in spite of his conflicted emotions, Kevin smiled.

  Karen shrugged. “For now. If I caught him in the act, or if he was openly following Kevin, I could do a little more. Arrests only stick when the prosecutor feels there's a case, and unfortunately—"

  "The prosecutor doesn't care if one queer beats up another one,” Kevin finished, swallowing hard. “I know the routine. Half of the cops think I deserved it. Part of them think we just had a fight.” He sighed. “I couldn't even call what he did to me a fight. I didn't get the chance to fight back.” The bitterness in his voice made him shiver.

  "I'm working on it, Kevin. The assault charges are going to depend on you. You are the victim, but you'll be the one on trial. His lawyer will argue that you wanted what he did to you, and you're going to have to be prepared for that."

  He scrubbed at his cheeks. “I know.” His mom actually looked sympathetic, but he couldn't handle any more conversation. He wanted to go back to Connor and curl up in the bed and forget all of this. “I need some air.” He left the house, unable to stand the sterile, cold place any longer. He sat down on the front step outside, liking the feel of the cold seeping into his body from the ground. A few minutes later, Karen came out and touched his shoulder.

  "I'll take you back to Connor's now.” She stepped past him, but he looked back to find his mom standing in the doorway, arms wrapped tight around her body.

  "Please don't tell him I was here. Don't answer the door. If he comes here again, just call the police. I'm sorry, Mom.” He took a few steps away. “I never meant to hurt you.” He ran back to the car and sat down inside, shaking from holding back emotion. He watched the house fade behind them as they drove away. He didn't talk.

  "That wasn't as bad as it could have been,” Karen said when they were close to Connor's apartment.

  "I know, but it still hurt. Is that what he wanted, for me to have to go there and debase myself?"

  "I don't know. I'm working on it, Kevin, honestly. It doesn't work like on TV. I can't just go arrest him. There's a procedure to be followed, and that takes time."

  He nodded, and he finally looked at her. “Will you be honest with me?"

  "I'll try."

  "What's the chance I'm going to end up dead?"

  "I'm hoping to prevent that."

  "That wasn't what I asked."

  She pulled up to Connor's building and met his eyes. “All right.” She put the car in park and wrapped her hands tight around the steering wheel. “He's escalating. First it was letters and phone calls, now he's broken into your home and vandalized your property. He's contacting your lover..."

  "Connor's not—"

  "Kevin, even if you aren't sleeping together right now, at least be honest and admit that's where you're going. He's contacted your lover, and Connor hasn't been frightened off. He'll keep trying to drive a wedge between the two of you, and if that doesn't work, he'll start trying to make contact with you in person. If he gets that far, the likelihood of you getting hurt is pretty high. I'm trying to keep that from happening. I can get him for stalking you. I have proof of that with the letters. I can even get your phone records and check who's been calling you. But he has no criminal record, and he'll get off with a misdemeanor. I'm sorry."

  Her words only confirmed what Kevin already suspected. He got out of the car. “Thank you for caring."

  "I'll get him, Kevin."

  "Don't make me a promise that you can't keep.” He shut the door and trudged up the stairs to Connor's apartment. The door opened before he could knock, and he resisted the urge to throw himself into Connor's arms. Once he was inside and the door was shut, he stepped into Connor's embrace, wrapping his arms around the broad chest and tucking his head beneath Connor's chin. Connor held him with one arm. Kevin realized the phone was in the other.

  "I'll call you later, Dad.” He heard a muffled voice on the other end of the phone, but he couldn't understand what the person said. “No, I'm fine. I love you, too.” Connor hung up and held him tight. “Baby, I'm so sorry."

  "How did you know?” Kevin didn't move.

  "Dave called Nicki. Nicki called me looking for you.” Connor stroked his hair. “I've gotten lots of phone calls. One was very ... interesting."

  "He called you?"

  "I assume so. I don't know who else would call me so I could listen to them have sex on the phone."

  Kevin groaned and fought back the rush of tears that welled up in his eyes.

  "Don't worry, I critiqued the performance."

  He pulled away, shocked. “You didn't!"

  "I did. I told him that he grunted like a pig, and if he had no more stamina than that, I was not impressed. I also told him not to call me again."

  Kevin laughed in spite of himself, but his laughing dissolved into a strangled sob. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  Connor led him into the bedroom and sat beside him, gently holding him while he cried.

  "You've nothing to be sorry about. This is not your fault. What did Karen say?"

  "That she's having problems getting her warrants, and all she can do right now is pick him up and hold him for forty-eight hours."

  "That's something."

  "He trashed my car. He took my wallet. I have no driver's license, no credit cards, no bank card. Dave was going to get one of those prepaid phones for me."

  "He said he was working on that. He called me, after he called Nicki for the number. He said you talked to your mom."

  Kevin nodded, giving into the emotions at last. “Do you know what really hurt?"

  "What?"

  "I could live with my family not wanting me, not even acknowledging my existence. But seeing the cards I'd sent her and a wall full of framed pictures, and knowing that she actually cared but still wouldn't talk to me, for whatever reason ... that hurt. It felt like someone had jabbed a knife in my heart and twisted it. The place was so cold, Connor, so empty. Just like her. Josh told her I had AIDS."

  "Oh, baby.” Connor's hands were in his hair again.

  "I told her ... I told her I didn't, but I don't think she believed me.” He sniffed. “I don't understand. I want to understand why she won't love me. Why won't any of them love me?"

  "I don't know."

  He was crying again, and when Connor gently pushed him away. Tears blurred the green eyes. “But I love you."

  Kevin wanted to protest, wanted to rail at Connor for uttering those words. He wanted to tell him that he couldn't have fallen in love in such a short time, but instead, he moved closer to Connor, until he was almost sitting in his lap. “You're being wonderful again."

  Fingers smoothed through his hair, and Connor rubbed his back. “No, sweetheart, I am being brutally honest this time."

  "I know,” Kevin whispered. “I know, but I can't say that to you
yet."

  "There's plenty of time."

  Kevin cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. “What if he kills me, Connor?"

  "I'm not going to let him do that."

  "You can't protect me forever. You can't be with me every minute of the day.” Connor didn't respond to that, and Kevin was very glad that he didn't.

  "I know,” he said finally. “But I can try. Why don't you change into something more comfortable? Do you have casual clothes?"

  Kevin nodded.

  "Change clothes, and we'll go get some coffee."

  "What about Dave? I have so much I have to do—"

  Connor pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “I have one of those, and he was in the process of getting you a new one. He has this number.” He jiggled the phone. “He can call it, or you can call him and let him know. Nicki said she was coming by as soon as she was off work. What does she do anyway?"

  The panic slowly eased off, and he relaxed in Connor's arms. “Hairdresser. I get free haircuts."

  Connor chuckled. “I should have known."

  "She'll do dye jobs for me."

  "I can't imagine you—"

  "I had blue streaks once, and I did a rainbow thing for Pridefest one year. I marched in the parade and everything.” He smiled, remembering a much happier time. “I used to have a picture. Nicki still might. I'll ask her."

  "You do have a wild streak."

  Kevin closed his eyes. “I'm much tamer now. But seriously, I have to call my credit card companies, go to the DMV, the bank—"

  "And you can do all of that after coffee or maybe brunch. You didn't eat much this morning."

  "I'm not really hungry either."

  "Nonsense.” Connor nudged his ribs and discovered a ticklish spot that he exploited until Kevin ended up on his back, laughing so hard he was about to cry. “Let's go have something to eat.” Connor lowered his lips to Kevin's, a kiss meant to be gentle, but one that quickly turned heated.

  Kevin pulled away, aching. “I'll change clothes."

  Dressed in a faded pair of jeans and soft sweater, Kevin felt a little more relaxed when he and Connor left. They went to a restaurant that served breakfast and sat near the window, although the damp, chilly weather did nothing to improve Kevin's mood or erase his growing sense of dread. They ordered coffee, and Kevin stared at the menu, trying to decide what he could stomach.

  "You are going to eat, aren't you?"

  His smile felt anemic, and Connor's expression deepened to one of concern. “Of course, I am. Everything looks so good that I can't decide."

  "You're lying.” Connor grinned. “Your eyes go dark when you lie."

  Kevin chuckled. “And you were teasing me about being a cop.” He nudged Connor's foot under the table. When the waitress came back, he ordered a ham and cheese omelet with toast. Movement outside caught his attention. Across the street was a figure in a red parka, leaning casually against the building, smoking a cigarette. Kevin might not have recognized him, except the parka had once been his. He fumbled for his jacket and pulled out Karen's card, sliding it across the table to Connor.

  "What's this for?"

  "Call Karen. Tell her that he followed me to a restaurant."

  He started to slide out of the booth, but Connor grabbed his wrist. His grip was strong but not painful. “Where are you going?"

  He thrust his chin to the hooded figure outside. “I'm going to tell the asshole to leave me alone."

  Connor kept a hold of him.

  "Let me go. You can watch from the window."

  "And he could—"

  "Connor, please. Let me go. I'll be fine.” He meant those words. Anger overrode his fear.

  Connor released him, and he slid out of the booth, not bothering to put on his coat. He left the restaurant and ran across the street. Josh pulled the hood away when he approached. He kept his distance, not wanting to get within arm's length of the man. He'd promised Connor he would be fine, but Josh could overpower him easily.

  "It's over. Done. I don't want to be with you. Leave me alone. Find someone else."

  Josh leaned against the building again and pulled another cigarette from his pocket, lighting it as though he'd not heard what Kevin had just said. He was tall and lean, much leaner than he'd been three years earlier. His light brown hair had a greasy sheen as if he hadn't washed it in days. His cheeks were hollow, and dark circles underscored his eyes. His fingernails had yellowed, though the nails were neat and trimmed. His sallow face was thinner than Kevin remembered, but he still exuded the sense of danger that had attracted Kevin in the first place. His eyes terrified Kevin. They had a wild, insane look that made him wonder if he was high. Josh had always liked to drink, and he'd liked drugs.

  "I was in the neighborhood. Just stopped to have a smoke. A guy can't find anywhere to sit and have a smoke anymore."

  Kevin didn't believe him. “You don't like this area. You never did. Go away. Leave me alone. Why do you keep doing this? Following me, sending me things. I'm done with you. Two years of hell was enough."

  "Come back to me.” His voice was as melodic as ever, and it had a pleading tone now. A year ago, hearing that voice might have swayed Kevin, but now it made him sick. “I miss you. Things haven't been good since you left. My friends aren't so eager to play—"

  Kevin shook his head. “They don't play because they know what you did to me. You crossed a line, Josh. If putting you in jail is the only way I can get you to leave me alone, I will. You have a life of your own. Go back to it. Find some other boy to torment."

  He laughed. A grating sound that set all of Kevin's nerves on edge.

  "I have one of those. Whip him, and he begs for more.” The sweet, pleading voice was gone, replaced with the harsher one that still lived in Kevin's nightmares. “You were always such a pansy about pain.” He stood up a little straighter and took a step forward.

  Kevin tensed and took a step back, staying out of his reach.

  "Stop, Master,” Josh sneered. “Please, stop. It hurts. Please don't hurt me."

  Kevin's hands curled into fists, and with a great effort, he ignored Josh's insults. “You've found someone better, then. Someone who suits you. Let me go."

  "But I don't love him. I love you, Kevin. I'm sorry.” The pleading was back. “I did cross the line. I felt bad. That's why I sent your pictures back."

  Kevin shook his head. “And my cell phone? My wallet? Give me my license and credit cards. Go away. Let me rebuild my life.” He held out his hand. “I know you have them. Give them to me."

  Josh rolled his eyes and stubbed out the cigarette on the side of the building. “You think you're so fucking clever. I don't have your cards. I told you I didn't break into your apartment. You didn't have to send the cops after me."

  Kevin resisted the urge to strangle him. He was lying. He could see it in the shifting of Josh's eyes. “Dogs like you sleep in cages? That wasn't you? How many people know how you treated me?"

  "Your pitiful friends probably sent it. They let you think they care, but they don't."

  He backed away and glance at the window of the diner when Josh advanced. Connor wasn't in his seat anymore. “You left me to bleed to death. You beat me bloody, and you left me, walked out with your buddies for a drink. And now you want me to come back for more of the same?” Kevin shook his head. “It's not going to happen. Go back to your boy. Find someone else, someone who likes to play rough. Leave me alone."

  "I made a mistake."

  "You ruptured my spleen, broke my ribs, and tore open my back, and you call that a mistake?” He shook his head. “You're sick. Go away. Go get help. Do something, but leave me alone.” He started to walk away, but Josh grabbed his arm and pulled him close. The pasty lips were on his a moment later.

  Kevin shoved Josh off, recoiling from the foul taste of tobacco. “Leave me alone."

  He heard someone mutter, “Fucking queers,” close by, and he started to walk away, but Josh grabbed him again, this time shoving him agains
t the building hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.

  "I could pull you around the corner and fuck you here. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” He spun Kevin around and pulled his arms up behind him. It hurt. Josh was strong, and his hands were large enough that he could keep both of Kevin's arms pinned with one hand. The position left no room to maneuver, and Josh pressed hard against his back, pushing him against the cold brick. Something cold touched his cheek. Kevin whimpered when he realized it was a knife. “Or I could cut you. Do you think anyone would notice if I cut you here in broad daylight? Would your lover like that, having you all scarred? Does he make love to you out of pity?"

  "Let me go!” The panic took hold, and he struggled, but his awkward position made escape impossible. His shoulders hurt, and the fear had frozen him. The hard evidence of Josh's erection made him tremble so hard only the grip on his arms kept him upright. “I don't play this game anymore, and I never liked it."

  Josh shook him. “You liked it with Devon Lancaster.” The pasty lips brushed his cheek. “He could have held you like this, and you would have begged for more."

  "Devon would stop when I told him to, and he would never have threatened me with a knife."

  The knife slid under his chin. “I should cut your throat so that he can't have you. What's his name?"

  Kevin struggled again and succeeded in getting his arms lose. He tried to pull away, but Josh shoved him against the building again. His cheek hit the wall with bruising force.

  "That's enough. Hands on your head, Harding."

  Karen's voice sent relief flooding through Kevin, and he sagged in Josh's grasp. “Your cop lady pulled a gun on me.” The knife pressed a little harder against Kevin's throat.

  "Drop the knife, Harding. Let him go.” A man's voice this time.

  "You win this one, Kevin, but I'm not done yet. Remember that when you're fucking your new squeeze. I hope he's good, slave, because he'll be your last."

  Josh let him go, and Kevin heard metal crash to the ground. He let his hands fall to his side, and he slowly became aware of the sirens, of Karen's voice reading Josh his rights, the murmuring of a crowd of onlookers. He turned around and slid down the wall.

 

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