Drawing the Devil

by Jon Keys

  Shane swayed on his feet, his vision going black for an instant. A muffled thump and the expulsion of an unwilling grunt of pain told him they had taken Dustin to the ground.

  The world narrowed until Shane’s only focus was to do whatever he could to save Dustin. The dull thud of fists against flesh sounded, as well as a few muffled oaths. Shane threw a punch at the attacker still standing, but he was too slow, and a fist to the jaw was his reward. The violent blow snapped his head around, spraying an arc of blood and spit in its wake. Shane needed to save Dustin, but he couldn’t even save himself.

  His heart dropped at the sound of wood against muscle punctuated by a piercing scream. Shit! They found a board to use on Dustin. With a surge of fury, he turned to help Dustin or go down fighting. But the scene before him was not what he expected. Standing over Dustin, swinging a baseball bat like it was Excalibur, was Todd. He beat the hell out of the two thugs who’d been working over Dustin.

  Spinning at the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, Shane saw an attacker charging him. The years of judo as a kid kicked in unexpectedly. He found a sense of calm, waited and then grabbed the outreached arm—and dropped. The attacker arched over Shane to land several feet in front of them, on his face. He lifted his torn face and yelled at the other two, “Get outta here!”

  The men Todd worked over had already disappeared. The remaining thug looked at the trio, scrambled to his feet and ran after his buddies.

  “Chicken-shit cowards!” Todd screamed after them. He walked over to Dustin and helped him off the ground. He quickly checked Dustin’s scrapes and cuts before moving to examine Shane.

  Even through the haze of pain, Shane knew Todd needed to be warned. It wasn’t fair for him not to know the whole truth before he touched Shane’s bleeding wounds. As Todd’s hand reached out, Shane said quietly. “Hang on, Todd. You need to know, I’m gay. I’m fine. I’ve been tested recently. But I wanted you to know ’cause I’m bleeding everywhere.”

  Todd didn’t hesitate before checking Shane over. “I sorta figured the guy Dustin was bangin’ would be gay.”

  Shane froze, shocked. So, all that name-calling between Todd and Dustin was their way of being friends? His gaze flicked back to Todd, who shrugged before double-checking Dustin. He looked a little dazed and had been swaying in the same spot for several minutes. Turning back to Shane, he looked grim as he motioned toward Dustin. “My family isn’t as dumb as Dustin thinks. We’ve always known. But we figured it was Dustin’s secret to keep or his to tell. He finally told me a little while back.”

  Todd and Dustin began talking. Shane watched as their discussion became more animated, or at least as animated as Dustin could be after the fight they’d just managed to survive. Gratitude flooded Shane. So far as he was concerned they could banter all they wanted, they were both stand-up guys. Although how they managed to understand each other through all the cussing was a mystery. Todd walked back to Shane.

  “You two need to go to the ER. I’ll go get my truck, see if you can get up the bank. It’ll be a miracle if you both don’t have something broken. And your face looks like shit.”

  Shane said bitterly, “My face already looked like hell. Don’t worry about it.”

  Dustin sat on the table with his feet in nonstop motion. The doctor had stitched up the cut on his face, and he was waiting to be released. He worried about Shane. Todd had been back and forth between their rooms and said he was fine. He also said a cop was questioning Shane. Dustin didn’t care what happened to their attackers, although he thought they’d end up at the hospital at some point too. Todd wielded a pretty mean bat. But right now all he knew was by the time they reached the ER, Shane had been in bad shape.

  The curtain skittered back, and the physician’s assistant who’d been fixing him up walked in with a clipboard. “Just a few things to wrap up. Here’s a couple of prescriptions, one for the pain if you need something, the other for some antibiotic cream that’s stronger than what you can get over the counter.”

  Dustin tried to listen as the physician’s assistant covered his discharge information. But he wanted to be with Shane. The PA stopped for a breath, and Dustin couldn’t hold back any longer. “How’s Shane? Is he okay? Can I see him?”

  He smiled warmly at Dustin. “He’s been asking for you too. Hang on a minute, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Dustin nodded, trying to keep his frustration under wraps. His anxiety had become unbearable by the time the PA returned. “Okay, you can go in.” Dustin jumped off the table and grimaced. He paused a second to let his body adjust, then started out the door and almost ran into the PA. “Hey, I thought I’d mention you should consider getting married. Colorado recognizes same-sex marriage, and you’d have domestic partner rights. Then you wouldn’t need to worry about being kept from seeing your partner.” He shrugged. “For whatever it’s worth. My husband and I got married as soon as it was legal, and that was part of the reason.”

  Dustin barely heard him in his obsession to get to Shane. He nodded politely. “How do I get to Shane?”

  “He’s in a room. I’ll take you.”

  Dustin followed through a series of twists and turns until he stood in front of a closed door. The PA said, “This is his room. I’ll check on you in a few minutes. We want to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion before we release him.” He paused. “The police should be finishing with him too.”

  Dustin nodded. He pressed the door open slowly, afraid of what he was going to find. “Shane?”

  “Dustin? You okay?”

  Dustin walked into the room and froze. Shane’s face was a latticework of dark stitches; both eyes were black and one almost swollen shut. He seemed oblivious to the uniformed officer watching them both. “Oh shit. They fucked you up.” Dustin slapped his hand to his mouth.

  “It’s okay. They stitched up everything so the scars would be smaller. They said in a month or so you won’t even see them.”

  The officer cleared his throat. “I believe I have everything, Mr. Rees. This is a hate crime, so the FBI will be involved. We’ll catch the people responsible.”

  “Thanks, Officer. I appreciate the help.”

  The cop nodded at Dustin, closed his notebook and walked out of the room. Dustin showed amazing restraint by waiting until the door clicked shut before rushing to Shane. He grabbed Shane’s wrapped hand and got a yelp of pain. “Oh God. Is there anywhere I can touch you and it won’t hurt?”

  “Maybe the back of my knees. I don’t think they managed to hit me there. They think a couple of fingers are broken. At some point the guy you jumped stomped on my hand.” Shane lifted his hand, and the gauze fell back, revealing a couple of metal splints.

  “How is everything else? Anything serious?”

  “Not really, just pretty banged up. I think they would have killed me if you and Todd hadn’t come when you did.”

  “I thought they had killed you. You were just lying there, and the small guy was kicking you.”

  Shane snorted and shook his head. “He wasn’t that small. At least he didn’t seem like it to me.”

  Dustin waved his hand in the air and sat on the side of Shane’s bed. “Well, compared to the other two goons, he was a runt.”

  Shane chuckled, then gasped. “Stop it. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  Dustin leaned in and kissed Shane on the cheek. “Sorry, babe. I’ll watch my comedy routine.”

  Shane narrowed his swollen eyes.

  “Sorry. I’m done.”

  They sat quietly for several minutes. Dustin slid his hand across the sheet and rested his fingers across the back of Shane’s hand. “It’ll be fine. They’ll catch the bastards.”

  “I guess I’ll have to go home for a few weeks. I’m gonna need some help getting around.”

  Dustin’s heart fell. “Oh…”

  “What’s wrong?”

&
nbsp; “Nothing.”

  “What’s bothering you? I thought you trusted me.”

  “I do. It’s just me being stupid.”

  “What!”

  “Okay. Fine. It pisses me off that you don’t want me to take care of you. But if you want to go home, that’s okay.”

  Shane stared at him, his mouth hanging open until Dustin tired of waiting for his response. “What? I know I’m not that bright. I get reminded every morning when I have to pop a pill to function.”

  “No, that’s not it. I thought you’d be tired of taking care of my ass. You’ve already had to help for weeks, and this is gonna be worse.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to take care of my boyfriend, and why would this time be different?”

  “Look. I might not have anything broken. But I’m pretty banged up. I don’t know if I can—you know—take care of myself.”

  Dustin winked at Shane. “If you mean like beat off, I’m happy to help with that.”

  “No, asshole. Like wipe my ass after I crap. I don’t think I could right now.”

  “So, you’d rather have your mom or Sam do it?”

  Shane’s face twisted with specifics he hadn’t considered. He was still thinking about his reply when there was a knock at the door and the doctor walked in.

  “Well, Mr. Rees. How would you like to get to go home?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Shane felt each bump and pothole in the road on their way to his parents’ house. They’d lived out of Shane’s tiny trailer for a few days, but crawling in and out wasn’t helping him heal. They’d talked about it and decided to take his parents up on their offer of a place to stay until Shane could travel. His body was sore enough that he could tell when they drove over anything rougher than a piece of gravel. The gray-green landscape that covered this portion of West Texas flowed past while Dustin drove. The occasional clumps of prickly pear cactus and mesquite provided the biggest landmarks on a horizon that extended to the edges of the world. All of which had most people running for areas with—more. More of everything. Usually Shane was at home with the austere country, but today he felt about as welcome as the Comanche had made the Conquistadors feel.

  “What’s crawled up your butt and died?” Dustin asked.

  “Nothing crawled up my butt and died. But you say that in front of Mom, and I’m not responsible for what happens to you.”

  “Your mom’s a sweetheart. Don’t you worry about her.”

  “Yeah, just get her pissed and you’ll see what a sweetheart she is.” He leaned back. The ache from the assault lingered, but he wanted to be home. I hope Mom’s little speech last time was genuine. He lay against the seat and watched the scenery slide past.

  Dustin glanced at his boyfriend. “I think it’s cool you finally agreed that it’d help to spend a few days with your family.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I know it can’t be fun to be woken up every night with my screaming nightmares.”

  Dustin glanced at him and shrugged. “There are worse things. I just hope we can find something to calm ’em down.”

  They rolled up the driveway, and Dustin was relieved to see Sara waving from the porch. The last hours had been punctuated by nothing more than grunts and sullen silence. He was ready for reinforcements. They had barely stopped when she bounded to the truck, yanked open Shane’s door and dragged him out of the pickup.

  “Come on! The ducks have hatched! You gotta see!”

  Dustin smiled at Shane’s perplexed expression and followed the pair. As Shane and his sister left him behind, he felt a touch on his arm. He turned to find Shane’s mother beside him. “Evening, Mrs. Rees.”

  “Please, call me Laura.”

  Dustin forced himself to wait quietly to find out why she’d stopped him.

  She nodded toward the house. “Could you come in, just for a minute? I’d like to visit with you.”

  Dustin nodded, wary of the attention. He followed her inside, the dim interior a marked difference from the bright world they had just left.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll get us something cold to drink,” Laura said.

  She disappeared through a side door, leaving Dustin to wander around the room. He discovered a home typical of a large West Texas family. Childhood photos wallpapered the rooms, and rows of shelves bulged with trophies and awards. The familiar sound of an arthritic swamp cooler brought up pleasant childhood memories. He finished his survey of the room as Laura walked in with a tumbler in each hand. Holding one out to Dustin, she motioned him to sit.

  “Sorry to drag you in, but I’m concerned about Shane. I know it was just last week, but he hasn’t been himself since those awful men attacked him in Colorado.” She sipped her tea and gave Dustin a concerned look. “I’m afraid I’ve been badgering him to come home. I needed to see him. I was hoping you could help me figure out what I can do.”

  Dustin sat quietly as the frustration he’d felt since the attack flared. If I had the answer, I’d already have done it. He thought about her request while he drank some tea. It had been more and more of a struggle for him to keep Shane going. His bruises were better. At least they’d started moving from black and purple to yellow and green.

  “I’m not sure, it’s all really fresh. But he’s having a hard time dealing with stuff. You know how he is about that scar on his face. It’s intense like that, only about everything. I thought coming back to visit would help. He would just lay in that little trailer and stare at the roof.” Dustin paused to think about what to say next. Good thing I took my meds this morning. I don’t think she could deal with unmedicated Dustin. He peered at Laura over the rim of his tea glass, and her drawn face was enough of a clue of how concerned she was.

  Laura sat back and studied Dustin. “It’s probably my fault, at least in part, that he feels the way he does. When Shane told us he was gay, I didn’t handle it the way I should’ve. I made him feel bad about himself. I let—”

  “You did okay. A whole lot better than my folks. At least he could still come home. I think this is the first time Shane’s had people hate him, you know, for being gay. They didn’t know him or nothing, just that he was gay.” Dustin’s lips twisted as he thought about the attack. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I can’t help it, when I’m with Shane I want to touch him, kiss him, and, like, just be with him. I’m like a June bug to a bug zapper, you know?”

  “That’s how I felt about Matt. Couldn’t spend enough time with him. We talked on the phone until late into the night. He was the first thing I thought about when I woke up and who I was thinking about when I fell asleep.”

  “Exactly! That’s how I feel with Shane. When I wake up and lay there watching him breathe—” He froze, realizing he’d given too many details to Shane’s mother. His panic rose as he tried to find a way out. He was beginning to hyperventilate when he felt a soft pat on his hand. He snapped his attention back to find Laura laughing.

  “In spite of what my family thinks, I don’t expect my adult children to be celibate monks.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. Sometimes stuff just comes out.”

  She patted his hand again. “I’m sure the ADD isn’t easy to live with sometimes, Dustin. But honesty is never offensive, at least not to me.”

  He relaxed slightly, glad to hear her say that. Very few people could actually deal with high-energy Dustin. Shane was one of the few who could. “Yes, ma’am. But it’s been rough for both of us. The whole thing just pisses me off.” Dustin looked at her and continued when he wasn’t scolded for his language. “I mean, I’m still jumpy and careful about not being in a bad place. Shane’s just a lot worse. I feel guilty too. I think it’s my fault. One of them must have seen us together and realized we weren’t just travel buddies.”

  “It’s still not your fault. Those men attacked my son and might’ve killed him if it hadn’t been for you and your fr
iend. I’m glad you were there.”

  Dustin shrugged. “I dunno why I knew. I just knew I had to find Shane, that he was in trouble.”

  She nodded in understanding, but their conversation stopped at the slam of a screen door. “Mom! Dustin!” Shane called out.

  “In here, dear.”

  Shane walked in the room with Sara only a step behind. He settled onto the arm of Dustin’s chair and looked from one to the other. “So. How are things in here?”

  “Fine, dear. Aren’t you going to give your mother a kiss? Sara dragged you off to see that squawking duck of hers before I could even say hi.”

  Shane met his mother’s embrace. He glanced over her shoulder at Dustin, who responded with a shrug.

  The last few days had helped Shane. Fixing miles of barbed-wire fence and working on the corrals had kept him from obsessing over the attack as he did when he had too much quiet time on his hands. The nightmares had even disappeared. Shane wiped his face with his forearm, which only smeared bits of alfalfa and dirt. Soon the hay would be too dry to bale today, which was fine with Shane. He was ready to stop. They’d been hauling hay since before dawn. He hadn’t anticipated this as his relaxation during his visit, but working with his siblings and Dustin had played an important part in his recovery.

  He looked down from the hay wagon to see Dustin teasing Sara and heard her unfettered laughter in response. They were teasing each other almost as much as Mutt and Jeff, who were enjoying running and bowling each other over. He was happy his boyfriend and sister were getting along. Actually, Dustin got along well with everyone in his family, so far. He and Sara had bonded. Shane wasn’t going to question his luck this time. He lurched backward as a bale of hay plowed into his leg.

  “You dinkin’ around over there?” Dustin tossed another bale toward him.

  “Hey! Who had to drag your a—” Shane glanced at his sister. “Drag you out of bed.”

  “Nah, I was catnappin’. Just needed another five minutes of sleep. Besides, I was still ready before you were.”