Mine

by Mary Calmes

  “You need to listen to me. I—”

  “Just,” he said with a sigh, squeezing me tight, “you’ll talk to Gabriel when you get back and you’ll tell him what you’re scared of and you’ll see what’s what. You don’t even know what he really wants until you get home.”

  And he was right. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “We’re not breaking up because you want to do the noble thing for me,” he said, his voice dropping low in warning, the edge there, dark and twisted. “You will never get away from me; you should resign yourself to that now.”

  “Lan––”

  “I’ll kill you and then myself, that’s a promise.”

  The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, I really should have worried.

  “Trevan?”

  “Idiot,” I grunted, kissing the whorl of his ear. “Never want to leave you. I’m just worried.”

  He exhaled out his worry.

  “I’m concerned about what’s going on with Gabe.”

  “We should go home, then.” He sounded so hopeful. “We could go tomorrow.”

  “You need to talk to your folks, and then we can.”

  “Tomorrow at brunch I’ll talk to them, and then we can leave tomorrow night.”

  “Unless something changes, that’s a plan.” He yawned loudly, and I chuckled. “You’re really cute.”

  “I am not,” he barely got out since he yawned again. “And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For explaining to José who I was.” He sighed happily, his lips brushing over my jaw. “You always tell people that I’m with you, and I love it.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Just take the damn compliment.”

  “Yessir,” I said, moving my hands, sliding them into his hair, pushing it out of his eyes so I could see his face, however faintly, in the darkness. “Hey.”

  The sound he made was almost a purr.

  “Kiss me.”

  He lifted, and his soft, wet lips slid over mine. He tasted like toothpaste and a hint of cognac and like himself, like Landry.

  I trembled under him, and he smiled against my mouth. I whimpered just a little when he pulled back.

  “Scott’s date, she wanted you to fuck her,” he said as he kissed me again.

  I groaned because it didn’t matter, she didn’t matter, but he was stuck on her for whatever reason.

  His hand slid across my abdomen and made my stomach flutter.

  “You know—” I kissed him and nibbled gently on his succulent lips, then sucked on his tongue, the kissing becoming hard and aching the way I liked it. I loved that he never said it was too much or complained that I was rough. “—I only fuck you, you know that.”

  “I know that,” he said, shoving me down under him. “Hey, what are the odds if I keep kissing you you’ll end up tearing my clothes off?”

  “It’s a safe bet.”

  His evil chuckle made me smile.

  Chapter 7

  I WAS surprised the next morning when we came up for brunch, around ten, that the family was there with two men I didn’t know. The way Landry fisted his hand in the back of my hoodie made me instantly wary, and the only thing I could think was that the two men were the problem.

  “Good morning,” Cece greeted us.

  “Good morning,” I said back, taking a seat at the table one away from Jocelyn, having Landry take the seat between us. I was uncomfortable, and when I was, normally I put Landry beside a wall and me on the other side of him. The closest I could come to safety here was his sister. I put my arm around the back of his chair as the older of the two men took a seat on the other side of Jocelyn with the other man next to him.

  “Landry, you remember Dr. Armstrong.”

  He nodded.

  “And this is his new partner, Dr. Kellum.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, leaning forward, looking at Cece.

  “Well,” she began, clearing her throat, “I was surprised to hear that Landry had never been medicated or seen a psychiatrist or gone into a treatment center for his bipolar condition once he left home. Since Dr. Armstrong is the one who diagnosed him all those years ago, I just wanted him to see Landry now and tell us what he thought.”

  “For what purpose?” I asked her. Apparently “friends for brunch,” as we had been told to expect the day before, meant Landry’s old shrink. “Why are they here?”

  She looked confused, like that had actually never occurred to her.

  “Trevan.”

  I looked at Mr. Carter.

  “We just wanted Landry to speak to Dr. Armstrong, if he would.”

  I looked around the table and realized that Hugh was missing, as well as William, but everyone else was there from the morning before, including both Landry’s brothers. I turned my head, my eyes flicking to Landry’s face.

  “You have to believe me and not them, okay?” he asked me.

  “Of course,” I assured him.

  Landry turned his head and Jocelyn leaned back at the same time, giving my boyfriend a clear view of the man. “Yes?”

  The doctor was smiling hesitantly. He was an older man, maybe late fifties, early sixties, handsome, tall. He reminded me of a high school principal; he had that look.

  “So tell me about yourself, Landry.”

  He cleared his throat. “We need to clear some things up first.”

  “Like?”

  “Well, for starters, I never did drugs.” He sighed heavily. “I mean, I did them, but mostly just to have something to do. I’ve never been addicted to anything.” He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, nothing pharmaceutical.”

  The table went wild, and he started laughing and then turned in his seat to face me.

  “Fuck them,” I told him. “Just look at me and tell me.”

  Noise raged around us, and he opened his mouth to try to speak, but I couldn’t hear him. He could barely hear himself.

  “Shut up!” I roared, standing up fast and overturning my chair, which brought the room to a sudden hush. “If you all can’t give him the courtesy of letting him speak, we’re leaving right fuckin’ now.”

  No one said a word.

  Slowly, I gazed at each of them, one after another. I finally returned my full attention to Landry as I picked up my cushioned chair and sat back down beside him. “Go ahead.”

  He released a deep breath. “Okay, see, I hated this place. I hated them.” He gestured at his parents. “I hated the rules and the restrictions, and so I tested and pushed to see what would happen, how far I could go.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. Nothing worked.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trev, I stole and I left vials of coke in my gym bag and left joints in my dad’s Jag and nothing. No one said a fuckin’ word to me.”

  I nodded. Limits I understood. Landry needed a very tight leash or he didn’t feel loved.

  “I was a rich spoiled brat, and I know that now, but still….” He shrugged. “No one gave a shit what I did, where I went, who I saw; no one. So I escalated it. I stole and I had raging parties and I got drunk and crashed the cars and still… nothing.”

  “May I please interject,” his father barked at him.

  We both turned to him.

  “We cared, Landry. We tried to get you help and—”

  “But you never said stop. You never said, ‘I’m gonna beat the shit outta you if you don’t cut this crap out.’ You never cared, Dad. You only cared when I got caught with Will in the stables, and you and his dad found us because I made sure you would.”

  His father’s mouth hung open.

  “Please,” Landry scoffed. “Do you have any idea how long I had sex with Will, Dad? All junior year, all summer, all senior year… we fucked like bunnies.”

  I didn’t have to make everyone silent; they were all staring at him, completely dumbfounded, even Jocelyn. He had them all floored.

  “But after that, after you saw us, after you had to apologize to his father, expla
in it to his mother, people at the country club—then it was different. Then I was crazy. Then I was addicted to drugs. Jesus, that shit was hysterical. I barely did any drugs. I mean, sure, some for recreation, but Trevan can tell you: I haven’t done any since he’s known me.”

  All eyes on me.

  “He hasn’t,” I assured them. “I don’t do them, he doesn’t do them. We’re too busy.”

  He gestured at me as if to say “of course” and continued, “Yeah, exactly. Trev works, I work. I have a business. Drugs are too expensive and way too time-consuming.”

  “But—”

  “Dr. Armstrong,” he said, getting up, walking over to the man, standing over him. “Why did you think I was bipolar?”

  He coughed. “You were manic, Landry.”

  “Or I was just bored out of my mind.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trevan has cousins, you know, who sit and play video games, and they are just angsty, moody pieces of crap.”

  “Agreed.” I nodded.

  “And you ask, you know, ‘What’s wrong? Why are you sad? What’s going on?’ And it’s nothing. They can’t tell you. They can’t articulate it. They’re just teenagers. When Trev gives them money, when we take them to a concert, do anything out of the ordinary for them, they brighten for, like, a second and a half, and then they go right back to reading their manga and posting on their blogs and snarling. Maybe, and I’m just throwing it out there, maybe that was me. It’s just a thought.”

  Dr. Armstrong was studying Landry’s face.

  “I mean, who died and made it necessary for me to be happy and smiling every hour of every day?”

  “Landry,” he said gently, “I understand what you’re saying, but son, you had such inflated highs and terrible lows. You went into a rage once that took your father and I both holding you down and my nurse giving you a sedative to calm you. That is not my imagination.”

  “Sure. And maybe I can still flip out a little sometimes, but so can all of you.”

  “Landry—”

  “I live with him.” He pointed at me. “Day in, day out, I wake up in bed with him in the morning and I go to bed with him at night. I have quirks, I need specific, what?” he asked me. “What would you say?”

  “Structure,” I told him. “You need your routine. As long as there’s that, you’re fine.”

  He shrugged and smiled at Dr. Armstrong. “I don’t like change. I don’t like people I don’t know around me, or close to me, and I definitely don’t like anyone around Trevan.”

  Everyone was back to looking at me.

  “I know I’m a little messed up. I know that he does a lot to keep things smooth and calm, and I do stupid things like buy boots.” His voice went out on him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.

  The tears were there suddenly. “I was such a brat.”

  “Yeah, so, who cares?” I grinned at him. “Come here.”

  He charged back to me, flung himself down into my arms, and buried his face in my shoulder. “I love you.”

  “Yes, I know,” I soothed him, rubbing his back, releasing a deep breath and squeezing him tight as he squirmed around in my lap. “Stop fidgeting.”

  “I told you I didn’t do drugs.”

  “And I believed you.”

  “I know you did, but I thought if you knew what a fuckin’ brat I used to be, then you’d know it wasn’t gonna change and then you for sure wouldn’t want me.”

  “Oh for crissakes, Lan, I love you no matter what, no matter what stupid-ass shit you do. I’m not going anywhere, and one of these days you’ll stop testing me and you’ll just know.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t test you. I just do stupid crap. I know you love me. You’ve shown me, and when you make me do what you want—that’s the best.”

  I grunted.

  “Remember that time you locked me in the bathroom at Tim’s party because I was dancing on the coffee table and I was gonna strip?”

  “I remember.”

  “And when I screamed myself hoarse, you used his bungee cords to tie me up and then carried me out over your back?”

  I nodded, mortified that he had just related that story, but what could I do?

  “Yeah.” He shivered hard. “That was awesome.”

  I squinted at him.

  “And when we got home you tied me to the bed and—”

  “Hello,” I cut him off. “TMI, baby, okay? Seriously?”

  “Oh.” He looked around, smiling sheepishly at the looks of absolute horror on everyone’s face. “Sorry.”

  “But you know,” I said into the sudden awkward silence, “maybe me manhandling you and being rough with you isn’t such a good thing. I’ve been thinking that maybe I should start seeing someone about that. I don’t wanna ever hurt you.”

  “You could never hurt me.” He was adamant.

  “Yeah, but Margo, you know, Adele’s friend that works with her at the clinic, she said that she’s got a really great therapist, and I was thinking, when we got back, that I’d go and see this guy.”

  He squinted at me before he got up off my lap, took hold of my bicep, and walked me over to the edge of the room. When he turned to face me, his eyes were narrowed with worry. “You don’t need to see anybody. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “Maybe not, but I should check it out.”

  He was agitated, shaking his head, biting his bottom lip.

  “Baby?”

  His hands went to my chest, and he leaned close. “I don’t want you to go see some stranger by yourself. I wanna be there with you, okay?”

  “If that’s what you want. But this guy might want to talk to me alone.”

  He pressed his lips tight together. “Yeah, but I live with you, so he’ll probably wanna talk to me too.”

  I shrugged. “Could be. You know more about that than me.”

  His eyes flicked to mine. “You already talked to Adele?”

  “Yeah, and you remember Margo; you liked her.”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah, so I figured when I got back, I’d call this guy up.”

  “After you talk to Gabriel.”

  “Yeah, that comes first,” I said, chuckling a little. “Obviously.”

  “Okay,” he agreed and nodded, hands clutching at my sweater. “We’ll go together and talk to this guy ’cause I don’t know him, and you know I don’t like anyone I don’t know being around you.”

  I knew that. I was counting on it. “Good, all settled,” I told him, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. “Now let’s go back and finish this.”

  We returned, and all eyes were on Landry as I took my seat.

  “So,” he went on, “after you guys”—he gestured at his parents—“were sure I was nuts and wanted to check me into that clinic in New York, I told you I was fine. I told you that being gay didn’t mean I was crazy. I might be crazy, but I’m a gay crazy man, not a crazy man because I’m gay. Does that make sense? You thought if you got me sane that I wouldn’t be gay anymore, and that’s ridiculous. So I left to save us all a lot of heartache. The fact that it took you getting sick, Mom, for you guys to want to talk to me pretty much tells me I was right.”

  “No, Landry, you—”

  “I can’t be fixed, Mom; my sexual orientation is homosexual, plain and simple. Maybe if you had come at me without saying that if I was sane, I wouldn’t be gay… maybe things between us would have been different.”

  “But it doesn’t matter,” she told him.

  “Now it doesn’t,” he replied. “But that wasn’t the case eight years ago.”

  “Ohmygod,” Chris groaned, looking back and forth between his parents and Landry. “He was right. All this time and he was right? You cut him off because he was gay, not because of anything else.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Neil told his son.

  But it was.

  “Christ,” Landry sighed, glancing at me. “Are you hungry? ’Cause I’m starving.” His smile was beautiful, mak
ing his blue-green eyes sparkle.

  “Yeah.”

  “Come on, let’s get some food.”

  Breakfast was a buffet, so Landry and I went to pile our plates full of food. He left first, walking back to the table, promising me coffee.

  “Trevan, is it?”

  I turned and Dr. Armstrong was there. “Yes.”

  He sighed deeply. “I appreciate what you did there, and I’m sure the Carters do as well.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Landry needs help, and you’re making sure he gets it by using yourself as the patient when we all know it should be him.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You handle him very well. I don’t remember him ever being so contained, so calm.”

  He would not get me to incriminate my boy on any level. The fact that he was even there felt like an ambush to me.

  “I see that the Carters were misguided,” he said and coughed. “But that does not mean that Landry does not need help.”

  “Not him, me. I’m the one who needs a shrink. If he decides down the road that he wants one as well, then he will.”

  “Trevan—”

  “I have problems; you heard what he said.”

  “I heard him say that he was out of control and you took care of him. That’s what I heard.”

  I shrugged. “He agreed to go with me when I talk to someone, that’s all I know.”

  “He’ll go with you because he thinks he’s doing it for you.”

  “Or he won’t think he’s doing it for me, but he’ll do it for me anyway because he doesn’t actually wanna hurt me, and maybe he worries about that.”

  He grunted. “That’s hardly fair, you denying things and then suddenly telling me that whatever I think, you know already.”

  I shrugged.

  “So Landry gets to pretend he’s doing it for you, seeing a therapist, and he gets to keep his pride intact, is that it?”

  “That’s it.”

  He stood there just staring at me.

  “Doc?”

  “That’s very selfless,” he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “He has the potential to be very dangerous, you know.”

  “Or not.”

  “Or not,” he agreed.

  I shrugged. “Don’t worry. If I die, no one will sue you for not committing him.”