by JD Ruskin
“Gonna come.”
He pulled off me, and I slid to my knees so I could kiss him. I poured all my feelings into it. He stroked my back, then held my jaw and pulled me close as he returned the kiss, deep and long and loving.
“Please, Dane, fuck me face to face.” It was out without my thinking, and I couldn’t take it back. We had never done it that way. I sensed it was too bare for him, like he’d rather skip the condom than do it that way.
He stilled but didn’t let me go. He sat me on the coffee table, rose and took off his clothes, then tossed a condom beside me.
“Lie back on the table.”
I smiled.
“We still do this my way.”
“Of course.” But the smile didn’t leave my face.
When I’d settled on my back, he leaned over me. I raised my head to kiss him, but he pulled back.
“Spread your knees.”
His gray eyes were dark as they swept my body, and I splayed my knees wide and wanton. He sank between them, his weight settling on his arms to protect me, his steel-hard shaft rubbing against mine. Slowly he lowered his head to one of my nipples, licking it first, then nibbling and biting down hard. When I gasped, he soothed it with his tongue.
I rubbed my hands against his sides in a futile attempt to make him grind on me. He grabbed them and pressed them to the table above my head. “My way,” he hissed.
I surrendered and lay still. He ground his cock against mine, the friction wonderful but nearly unbearable too. I wanted to come so bad. I shut my eyes as I concentrated on the contrasting, building sensations.
He slipped the condom on and pulled my ankles toward his neck, raising my ass off the table as he pushed deep into me.
“This what you want?”
I opened my eyes wide and nodded furiously, afraid to say anything that might make him stop. He might never do this again.
Like he could read my thoughts, he smiled. “That’s right,” he sighed as he pulled back and slid into me again. But was he answering me or echoing how it felt? I didn’t know.
I tried to pull him deeper inside by clenching all my muscles. He quirked an eyebrow at me, then dropped his hands on either side of my chest and pushed hard. I hooked my ankles over his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold on and grasped wildly at his arms as my desire sparked higher.
“Fuck, so good, cowboy.” Pleasure moved across his face until his eyes slammed shut and his jaw tightened.
I groaned back at him, a sound that went on and on, louder and louder until it was a shriek.
Dane’s eyes popped open. “Not yet. Don’t you come yet.”
I whimpered. I was going to shoot any second. He knew it too, and grinned wickedly. I clenched with everything I had to stop myself from exploding, and that sent him over the edge.
“Come with me,” he gasped.
I shot before he’d finished saying “come.” In that instant, all the pain and hurt left my body as I spurted across my stomach and chest and his too. I knew the moment he felt it because he sighed. He laid himself softly across me, and I buried my face in his neck. I tasted the salt of his sweat and felt him tremble as he held himself off my battered ribs.
Eventually he eased off me. His eyes were closed. His face had softened, and a tiny smile played at the edges of his mouth. I realized in that moment that he meant everything to me. That despite what had happened to me, I was happy for that.
He opened his eyes, and it was like he could read the thought on my face. His smile faded, replaced by a grimace of regret. Every part of him tensed. He pushed away from me, grabbed his clothes up, and started to dress.
I scrambled for my pants and put them on too. We didn’t look at each other.
“I gotta get back.”
“I understand.”
But I didn’t.
ANOTHER DAY passed, and I saw no one but the horses. Once, I saw Dane running, off in the distance. Jesse was still avoiding me. I guess my aunt and uncle were too. Sarah wanted to come over. I told her not to.
But I needed to talk to somebody. I decided to go to Bozeman. I didn’t look so much like Frankenstein anymore, though it’s not like most Montanans haven’t seen a beat-up cowboy before. I figured it’d be okay.
I went straight to Guy’s. The gallery was open, but he had a customer inside. I tried his back door, but it was locked. I returned to the front and pulled my hat down low as I walked by the gallery windows and kept going for a couple of blocks. Crossed the street and came back. Crossed the street and walked by again. The customer was still inside.
How pathetic could I get? And when was someone going to call me out for loitering?
I was about a hundred feet past Guy’s front door when he called my name.
“Come on in, Josh. You think I didn’t notice you?”
I turned around and kept my head down. “I didn’t want to bother you with a customer.”
“Silly. I’ll just be a few more minutes.” He held the door open for me, and I kept my head turned away. “Go through and head upstairs. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
I slipped by without Guy getting a close look at my face, and I nodded to the stranger without looking up. Once upstairs, I sat in Guy’s kitchen to wait. About fifteen minutes later, I heard him on the stairs.
“I put the closed sign up,” he said as he shut the door to the stairway. “So what brings you to—Oh God, Josh, what happened to your face?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Like hell.” Guy had his hands all over my shoulders, tilting my neck this way and that to look at me. I winced when he accidentally brushed my ribs.
“You tell me everything right now, or I will have one hell of a hissy fit.”
I pushed back my hat, and he grabbed it off my head and put it on the table.
“You got anything to drink? Pop, maybe?”
He got me one from the fridge, and a bottle of water for himself, and sat down next to me. I took a long drink.
“You remember that horse trainer I told you about? Ray Hanson?”
“The one who sold you the mustang.”
I nodded. “Turns out he was hiding out near my place and watching me train Hurricane, and saw some more besides, you know, between me and Dane.”
I played with the pop can so I wouldn’t have to look at Guy. “Anyway, Hanson outed me in Cunningham’s, and then he and his men beat me up in the parking lot.”
“Where else did they hurt you?”
“You mean besides my pretty face?” I tried to grin, to keep things light, but I had to stop when my lip threatened to break open.
“Did you go to the doctor? Did anyone help you?” Guy asked. “I hope Jesse and that Ranger kicked their asses.”
“No.”
Guy’s face darkened. He took my hand. “What’s happened?” he whispered.
“Jesse’s furious and he’s not talking to me. Neither are my aunt and uncle. Dane’s got to protect himself. His secret’s still safe.”
“Oh Josh.” He bit his lip and squeezed my hand. Lightly, he brushed my sore lip with his fingertips. He genuinely hurt for me.
“Have you heard from Sarah?”
I shook my head. “She’s called, but I haven’t gotten back to her. I’m afraid I’ve totally wrecked things between her and Jesse.”
I pushed my chair back and rubbed my hand across my forehead. It was one of the few places on my face I could touch without hurting.
“Is Jesse mad just because of that or because….”
“He said some ugly stuff.”
Guy jumped out of his chair and began to pace the kitchen. “That stupid jerk. Doesn’t he realize how lucky he is that you’re his brother? Doesn’t he remember all those letters you wrote him when he was in Afghanistan, all three times he was there? Shit, I bet you wrote him every day. I’m going to call him and blast him but good—wait a minute.” He stopped fast and pivoted to face me. “Why aren’t you angrier about this?”
“What do yo
u mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. You haven’t said a bad word about any of them. You haven’t even raised your voice.”
“There’s no point. First off, you know I don’t like to get mad and—”
“Fuck that,” he shrieked. He could become pretty hysterical when he wanted. “This is something to get angry about, Josh. These people are abusing you.”
“They’re just mad. They think I’ve kept something I shouldn’t have from them, and they’re right.”
“Right?” Guy was screeching now. “Who you sleep with is none of their business. Don’t you defend them. I won’t stand for it.”
“Or what, Guy? Nothing anyone can do will change anything. This is my life for a while.”
“This happened, what, four days ago? What have you been doing since then?”
He bounced from one subject to the next like a wild shot on a pool table. I took a deep breath and let it out. Took another.
“I’ve been pretty much staying in my house, letting my face heal up.”
“Oh Josh.” He flopped back in his chair and grabbed my hand again.
“You can’t hide this away, darling. You have got to face them all, your aunt and uncle, Jesse and Sarah, and that coward in-the-closet Ranger—”
“Watch what you say about Dane.” I was surprised at the anger in my tone.
“What?” Guy’s voice went up an octave. “Now you’re upset? At me?” His face reddened. “What the fuck’s the matter with you, Josh? The Ranger’s not saying a word to defend you. Won’t even come out of the closet to help you. And your family has you hiding in your house. You going to stay there forever? The closet wasn’t enough?”
He wasn’t going to stop. I tried to flatten my voice to keep from amping him up some more. “I told you, Dane has to protect himself. Leave him out of this.”
Guy jumped up again. “Fuck Dane,” he yelled. “Why are you protecting this guy?”
“Because I love him,” I shouted back.
And didn’t that surprise us both. Guy slumped in his chair.
“You love him,” he said slowly. “Well, isn’t that just a kick in the gut.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, he looked in my face. “What about me? I’ve loved you for years.”
“Like a friend. I know that, Guy, and I appreciate it. You know I do.”
“Oh no,” he spat out. “Do not patronize me. Do not belittle me. I really love you. I’ve loved you for years. I’ve been waiting for you… to love me back.” Tears filled his eyes.
“Guy,” I whispered. I reached for his hand, but he jerked away. “You’re one of my closest and best friends. I love you as a friend. You know that. You know that’s how I’ve always felt.”
I looked at him expectantly, searching for understanding. Evidently, everybody I knew was fresh out.
Tears spilled onto his cheeks. “I’ve been waiting for more.” He looked hard at me. “Get out. Get out of my house and don’t come back.”
I stared at him, expecting his outburst to dissipate like smoke, believing he’d take it back and ask me to stay. But not today. How had he failed to understand? What had I gotten wrong?
I got to my feet. I felt like I should say something, but I didn’t know what. I left without looking back, an uncomfortable feeling in my chest. I pushed it deeper inside with each step down the stairs.
Outside, it was raining now, hard. Seemed about right. Seemed things couldn’t get much worse.
I was wrong about that too.
IT WASN’T raining at the ranch. The afternoon was perfect, cool and sunny with puffy white clouds scattered across the blue big sky.
I needed to do something. I headed for the barn and saddled Hurricane. No reason I had to keep him hidden now. What else could Hanson do to me?
Even though Hurricane didn’t want to, I kept our pace slow to protect my ribs. As we made our way through the back meadow and the fence along the national forest line, I grew accustomed to the occasional jabs of pain. Pretty soon I didn’t notice them or where we were going.
My mind played over the events of the past couple of days again, adding the disaster with Guy, skipping ahead, rewinding and replaying without much logic. With no answers. Just lots of recriminations. How had I missed Guy’s true feelings? What could I do now?
Thunder halted my thoughts. I looked up and hard rain peppered my face, like the sky was spitting on me too. The storm had followed us from Bozeman after all. Crap.
I slowed Hurricane and paused to look around. Low clouds had moved in with the rain and closed down the view. I couldn’t see the mountains on either side of the valley. I saw the grass right around us and nothing but a whole lot of gray beyond that. But Hurricane must have been paying attention. We were back along the national forest fence line, not too far from home.
Lightning flashed, followed by thunder too close by. Hurricane pranced nervously.
“It’s okay, boy. We’ll go home.” I patted the side of his neck, wiping off a sheet of rain as I did. My clothes were soaked.
I turned him just as the thunder cracked again. But it wasn’t thunder. It was three loud noises back to back to back. Something heavier than wind rushed by me.
Hurricane fell suddenly to the ground. Pain that shoved the wind out of me shot through my chest as we both hit the dirt hard. Neither of us moved for several minutes. I couldn’t breathe and my ribs ached like nothing I’d felt before.
For too long, I struggled to get air back into my lungs. I felt lightheaded and shaky as I lay still taking stock. I couldn’t figure what had happened. I tried to get up, but my leg was stuck under Hurricane, and he wasn’t moving. His breathing was irregular too.
I got my arms under me and pushed myself to a sitting position—God, did my ribs hurt—and ran my hand down Hurricane’s neck. It came up dripping red liquid. I stared at it, not comprehending anything except that it wasn’t rain. I unzipped my jacket and wiped my hand on my pale blue shirt and it turned red, too, the huge red blotch seeping onto my undershirt.
It was blood, it had to be blood. So much blood.
Like that, my head cleared. The sounds, the rush of wind, the blood. We’d been shot at, and Hurricane was hit. Not only that, I’d turned my horse into the bullets.
“Oh, God, no. No, damn it. No!”
My horse was shot, and it was my fault, and we were stuck here. I fell back on the ground, and I shrieked when the pain wracked my ribs again. But it was nothing like the pain in my heart.
Right on top of that came a scarier thought. Were we safe? Where was the shooter? Even as I pressed myself flatter to the ground, I glanced around as much as I could. The bullets had come from behind us, from the area where Hanson and his men had cut the fence.
Hanson. He must have fired the shots.
Lightning flashed again, like a cosmic agreement, and something broke open inside me.
“Hanson, you mother-fucking coward,” I screamed. “Come fight me now, damn you. I’m ready.”
But he was gone. I was sure. He was too much of a coward to stick around. I turned back to my horse.
“Hurricane, come on. We have got to get up.”
He thrashed his legs and grunted, but he didn’t rise.
“Please, Hurricane. You have to try.”
Once more he struggled but didn’t succeed.
“Okay, boy, I’ll go get us some help. But you have to help me get up.”
I pushed on his back and tried to move my leg.
“Hurricane, help me, please. I have to get up to get you some help.”
I patted his side, and he tilted his head in my direction. Then he rocked himself slightly, enough that I could pull myself out.
“Good boy, Hurricane. Good boy. You rest now.”
I patted his neck and got more blood on my hands. God, there was so much of it, pumping out of a ragged hole in his neck. There was a second wound in his shoulder.
I ripped off m
y jacket and shoved it under his nose to keep it out of the red-streaked puddle of blood and rain growing around his head. Then I took off my shirt and pressed it into the neck wound. I used my T-shirt to gently plug the smaller hole in his shoulder.
“I’m going to get help. Please, Hurricane. Don’t you leave me too.”
I pushed myself onto my feet, grabbing my ribs against the pain, and started stumbling for Jesse’s. Faster, my mind cried, but my body was slow to respond. Not even the icy rain that stabbed at my bare back and chest could speed my feet. The terrifying thought that I wouldn’t get help in time brought tears to my eyes.
“God… please….”
After a quarter mile, I spotted Dane and Jesse coming toward me, with Uncle Karl’s truck behind them and closing. I pushed myself to get to them, my breath coming in gasps.
Jesse stopped once he was close enough to get a good look at me.
“What the fuck happened now?” he yelled.
Dane ran up and grabbed both my arms. He was staring at my chest. When I looked down, I was painted in blood, some of it thinned by rain and spreading down my pants.
“Are you hit?”
“You heard the shots?”
He shook me hard. “Have you been hit?”
“It’s Hurricane. He’s hit. I turned him right into the bullet. Oh, God.” I was sobbing now, and I didn’t care if Dane thought I was a coward. “We have to help Hurricane. Hanson tried to kill my horse.”
Dane gripped my arms harder, and I wanted to throw myself at his chest so he would hold me. But I couldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t.
“You’re not hurt?” he asked again.
“No.” I clutched at his arms. I had to make him move, make him do something fast. “But we have to get back to Hurricane.”
He took off his jacket and threw it across my shoulders. “You first. Put this on before you freeze.”
Uncle Karl walked up to us. He held the jacket as I slid my arms into it. “You’re okay?” he demanded. Jesse still kept his distance.
I nodded and grasped at my uncle now. “We have to get back to Hurricane. He’s been shot in the neck. Please, Uncle Karl, you have to help him.” I swiped at the tears on my face.