Behind Iron Lace

by Celeste, Mercy

  “Caleb?”

  “Don’t say anything. I don’t know why I told you. It’s not as if you mean anything to me. Just some straight boy I got a kick out of flipping.” He couldn’t stop the words. The pain drove him. He didn’t want to have his pity. He couldn’t live with Darcy knowing the worst about him. “You’re just a piece of meat to me, just a pretty ass to fuck. I wanted you. I took you. Now I’m done with you.”

  “Caleb, please?”

  He ignored the pain in his voice, letting the monster free just once more. “You want a goodbye quickie? Fine, drop trou. I’ll blow you and then I never want to see you again.”

  “You don’t mean that. Please tell me you don’t mean that?” He could hear panic in his voice but he couldn’t stop.

  “I mean every word. You have my truth, all of my truths now, Duck. You’ve seen firsthand what I am capable of. I wanted to kill him. I tasted it. It tasted good. If you stay, it will be you. One day soon, it will be you, and I don’t have a grandfather to keep me from doing life this time.”

  “Caleb? Don’t talk like that.” Darcy didn’t bother hiding the tears in his voice this time. Soft sweet Darcy. His heart ached so badly and Caleb couldn’t stop himself from ripping his heart to shreds.

  Caleb forced himself to look at him. Tears swam in his eyes, he swiped them away. Betrayal, humiliation, despair, it was all there. Caleb just dropped his head on his knees as he nailed the lid on the coffin. “Run, little faggot boy. I have no further use for you. Go home.”

  He heard the click of the door, but he didn’t look up to see if he was alone. He let the tears come now. Shit. “SHIT!”

  “You are in love with him, Remy.”

  Caleb slammed his head into the wall behind him at the sound of his uncle’s voice. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since that boy ran out of here like a scalded cat. He’s in love with you.”

  “What do you care? You’ve never approved of my predilections.” Caleb lifted the bottle to his lips, noticed it was mostly gone and he was still fucking sober.

  “Why did you never tell anyone what happened to you?”

  “Grand-pere knew. He made me tell him why I killed that débauché, that fucker. He hunted down the one who beat me. It’s what freed me.”

  “Remy?”

  “Don’t fucking call me Remy. I stopped being Remy when I was twenty. Stop using that damned name.”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, he pulled it out and read the text. “Well, I guess I won the shit trifecta today.” He tossed his phone to his uncle. “Maman is gone now, and I hear about it in a fucking text message. Now get the fuck out and let me go on with my plan to find oblivion in the bottom of this bottle.”

  “I’m sorry, Rem—Caleb. I wish I had known. I would have—”

  “There was nothing you could have done, Uncle. You couldn’t make my father love me. You couldn’t make him stay when he wanted to leave. You couldn’t make my mother stay sober after he left. There was nothing you could have done to stop anything.”

  “I saw her today. I went. I am so sorry, Caleb.”

  “Yeah, Uncle. So am I.”

  Caleb hefted the bottle again and drained it. This time he could feel the liquor take hold. The pain started to fade away in the recesses of his brain where he couldn’t pick at it. Soon he would find oblivion, and he would forget how ruthlessly he ran off the first good thing to ever happen to him.

  Chapter Eight

  Darcy was standing in line waiting to board the first plane to Oregon he could get a ticket on. Not an hour had passed since he’d run from the bar with his tail firmly between his legs. Pain threatened to drag him to his knees but he kept walking. The bruise on his face was drawing attention he didn’t want. Everything was pleasantly blurry without his glasses, so he really didn’t notice the looks so much. “Are you all right, sir?” The flight attendant who checked his ticket seemed genuinely concerned.

  “I’m fine.” He didn’t feel like trying to explain when he had no idea how to process what had just happened. “Lost my glasses and walked into an overhang.”

  She seemed to take his answer in stride and directed him to his seat. He’d bought first class out of desperation because the plane was full. Once seated, he asked for something cold to drink mostly to press against his face, and for something to kill the headache building behind his eyes. At five o’clock he left the Big Easy behind. His heart ached with so much pain he couldn’t swallow.

  Eight hours later, the taxi pulled into the drive of the neat house he’d grown up in. There were lights on downstairs. He knocked, feeling like a fool. He’d never thought he’d come home like this. Empty handed and broken.

  His mom answered, her smile fading as he stepped into the lighted foyer. “Sweetheart—what happened to your face?”

  “Who is it, Monica?” His dad came out of the kitchen, a beer in hand, before he had a chance to say anything. “Darcy! Oh my God! Son, what happened to you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, it’s nothing, I just… I need to come home for a little while if that’s all right?” He knew he should have called. He should have stayed in New Orleans and tried to salvage his life. He should have broken Chester’s nose. There were a million things he should have done but hadn’t.

  “Of course, sweetie, you know you’re welcome here. Why would you even ask?” His mom pulled him to her for a hug. “Are you hungry? I have lasagna in the fridge, I could heat it up.”

  “That would be nice, thanks.” He followed his parents into the kitchen noting the new stove. “I left the magazine, Bailey and I…”

  “Broke up?” his mom finished for him when he couldn’t find the right words.

  “Something like that. I was offered a job at the University. I’m going to take it,” he decided on the spot. There was nothing holding him back, he could have the career he wanted, he was free. Free to do as he pleased, to live as he wished, to love…

  No one. He loved no one. And that was how it should be. He didn’t need a sultry talking man fucking with his head just to get into his pants. He didn’t need anyone. Pain clutched in his gut and twisted. Caleb’s tormented green eyes flashed in his memory. “Run, little faggot boy. Go home.” The words chimed in his mind, tearing him into so many pieces he didn’t know if he could ever put himself back together.

  “On second thought, Mom, it’s so late and it’s been a long day. I’m just going to crash if that’s okay?”

  “Sure, sweetie, go ahead. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Darcy hugged his parents, trying not to see the worried looks they passed each other when they thought he wasn’t looking. Upstairs, he fell into the twin size bed he’d occupied for eighteen years, and wrapped himself in the blue plaid comforter. Sleep dragged him under before he could even think to fight it off. Somehow, he roused himself enough to kick off his shoes. After that, he found the oblivion he so desperately wanted.

  He moped around the house for two days. His parents tiptoed around him but Darcy could sense their tension. Finally, he turned his phone on and scrolled through the missed calls and messages. A hundred, maybe two hundred. Some from Bailey, most of them were from Amber. Caleb hadn’t called, or texted. He quickly squashed the feeling of disappointment. Why would Caleb call? He’d gotten what he wanted from him. Just another straight boy he wanted to flip.

  Darcy squeezed his eyes closed. His old glasses weren’t strong enough, his head hurt from the combination of poor vision and lack of food. At least that’s what he told himself. He called Amber. Amber he could deal with, he’d never slept with her. Amber was a good person, she would—

  “Where the fucking hell are you?” Amber answered, her voice filled with anger and fear. “I ought to kick your ass for scaring us like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” God, he didn’t know what he needed to say. “I’m in Oregon. Amber, I—I’m not coming back.”

  “I will kick that fucking moron’s ass if he turns back up. Darcy, you’ve
got to come back, we need you. I need you. There’s no one running things. Bailey won’t talk to anyone. She just sits in her office. Chester bugged out. And Caleb, well, I was hoping you knew where he was. You both sort of disappeared at the same time.”

  “I don’t know where he is.” Darcy forced the guilt and grief into a hole in his heart. “I’m so sorry. I can’t come back. I’ve taken a job at the university. I’ve been on the waiting list for years. It’s my dream job, Amber.”

  “So you just run off and leave us without a word, Darcy, that isn’t right. I was this close to calling the police. Bailey wouldn’t let me. She thought you and Caleb were just off fucking around somewhere. She said you would show up when the new wore off. What happened with Caleb? The two of you looked so happy.”

  “You said it yourself, we were just fucking around. Listen, Amber, there’s something I want you to do for me.” He evaded the question. He didn’t need to know anything about Caleb right now. He didn’t want to know. Run, little faggot boy, run home. “I sent you the key to my apartment. Will you go through it for me this weekend? Pack it up, I’ll tell you what to ship to me and the rest you can just give away.”

  “You’re not coming back? Really? Oh, Darcy you loved the magazine. Come back. Everything will be okay. Bailey will—”

  “I can’t, Amber,” he said, feeling the lump dissolve in his throat. “He doesn’t want me. He made me fall in love with him and it’s over. I can’t come back.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I knew you would fall hard for some guy one day. That thing between you and Bailey just never fit. And Caleb, he was perfect for you. I’m sorry he hurt you. Want me to hunt him down and cut him? I can you know,” she said in a soothing voice. “Don’t cry, Darcy, you’ll make me cry.”

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know who—I haven’t talked to anyone about it. I just left. My parents are freaked, I can’t talk to them about this. How did you know I would fall for a guy? I didn’t know… I didn’t know—”

  “That you’re gay. Baby, it takes one to know one. Even if I’m not a guy. I can read the signs of someone living a lie. And don’t bother denying it. You might have fucked Bailey, and other girls but you didn’t enjoy it, did you? Did you?”

  He sat there on his bed holding the phone to his ear as if it would bite him. His whole life was a lie. He looked around his room at the posters on the wall, movies, music, sports, there were no women in them. He’d never looked at a girly magazine with interest. Hell, it was Bailey who initiated sex. Always. Even the first time. “No. I thought something was wrong with me but I’ve never looked at men either. I thought I just wasn’t interested—”

  “Bitch, please, give you a couple of drinks and all you do is ogle men, their asses in particular,” she was laughing at his squeak of denial. “Oh, yeah, I’ve watched you. And you blushed every time one of them looked back. Don’t worry, Darcy, no one else noticed. Except maybe Chester, it’s what drove him crazy. You looked at him like he was worse than something you’d stepped in. He’s gone, he took off after he and Bailey had a knock down drag out. Come back, the magazine needs you.”

  “The magazine needs you, you have the passion I’ve lost. Amber, I’m going to sell you my half of the business. You can manage it. You’ve got the drive, and frankly, I thought you were wasted as a field reporter. I was going to offer you assistant editor. But you’ll make a great editor.” It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. Darcy just wished he’d thought of it earlier. Like back in the early spring when he first lost interest. And then again as summer came and he just felt trapped.

  “I can’t afford to buy you out, I’m sort of knee deep in student loans and the apartment I’m in isn’t cheap.”

  “One dollar, plus cleaning out my apartment. And if you want you can take over the lease there, it’s not bad, and close enough to walk to work so you won’t have to worry about cab fare. I’ll call the landlord, let him know.”

  “You’d do that? For me?” There was disbelief in her voice, almost as if no one had ever done anything nice for her.

  “You’ve been a great friend, Amber. I don’t make friends easily, and I don’t throw away the ones I do have. And I’ll be here to walk you through everything. Any time of the day. Except when I’m teaching class, I’m pretty sure that’s frowned upon.”

  “Professor Darcy Butler. Hmm, has a poetic ring to it,” Amber laughed, the husky sound infused him, making him feel better than he had in days. “What do you want me to tell Caleb the next time I see him?”

  The laughter died as the pain in his stomach came back. “You won’t see him again. He’s probably out of the country by now.”

  “I’m sorry, Dar, but you know, now that you’ve opened the door to the closet, it wouldn’t hurt to explore the world a little. Go out and meet a nice guy, get laid, it’ll help.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m going to run now. I’ve got an appointment to replace my glasses. And I’ve got to go buy new clothes. I sort of only have what I was wearing on Monday. Let me know when the package I sent you arrives, okay?”

  “I will, and Dar, for what it’s worth, I love you. You know that, right? I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

  “I know, Amber, I love you too. I’m just sorry I had to leave.”

  After he disconnected he looked up to find his mom standing in the door. He waited for the inevitable questions as he wondered just how much she’d heard. He wasn’t sure if could discuss Caleb, not just yet. Maybe not ever. “Who’s Amber?”

  “A girl who works for me, worked for me. A friend.” He sighed. “I’m all right, Mom.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, I recognize heartbreak when I see it. Lord knows your brother and sister put me through hell. But not you.”

  “Not me. You’d think at twenty-nine I’d be able to deal with it. But no. I have no idea how to get past this.”

  “You were with her for ten years. I’m sure it will take some time. Bailey was a good girl, but she wasn’t, well, she just never struck me as the type to settle down and raise a family, honey.”

  He laughed a harsh bitter laugh that shocked his mom. “She’s pregnant. It’s not mine. Guess she is willing to raise a family. But it won’t be with me.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Me neither. And Mom, I’d rather her condition not get out. I mean, I’d just as soon people not know why, you know.” Let her think what she wanted. Let her think it was Bailey’s infidelity. As long as he didn’t have to admit it was a man who’d broken his heart, he could get through this. And hell, maybe if he tried hard enough, he could convince himself.

  “Sure thing,” she said, her eyes sad. “Hey, before I forget to warn you, Damien is coming this weekend, he’s bringing the kids. And Delilah might drive down from Seattle.”

  “Why?” Horror gripped him. He wasn’t fit company to be tormented just now. Especially by older siblings.

  “Because they love you and miss you and I suspect they want to make sure their baby brother is living and breathing and in one piece after living down south for nearly a year.”

  “Down the bayou,” he laughed thinking about the peculiar way of speaking they had down there.

  “What?” She probably thought he’d lost his mind. Of course, she’d caught him sitting in his room with tears on his face and he was babbling nonsense. She could be right.

  “Down the bayou, it’s the New Orleans way of saying south. Up the bayou is north.” He wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering. Caleb’s voice was clear in his head as he explained the local dialect to him. Of course, they had been lying in bed, fingers entwined at the time. “I hated that damned city the whole time I was there. And now—”

  “You miss it?”

  “Yeah, crazy isn’t it?” He laughed at the irony. “Okay, I have places to be. I need to get some clothes. The clothes in my closet don’t fit anymore, and I need a second set of eyes. And…”


  “Do you want some company?” she offered almost hesitantly. “I’ll take you to lunch, and there’s an art gallery I’m dying to go to but your dad can’t be bothered to go with me. And you always loved going to the galleries with me. My sweet baby boy. I missed you so much.”

  “If I say yes will you stop with the mush?”

  “I’ll make a deal with you; I’ll stop with the mush, if you actually eat lunch instead of pushing it around on your plate.” She smiled, a cunning, calculating smile and Darcy knew he’d been manipulated.

  “Deal. But I’m not talking about my feelings.” Darcy climbed to his feet, he grabbed his wallet and phone and, on second thought, he tossed the phone on his bed and walked away. “And I need to get a new phone. This one is broken.”

  She nodded, she might not have understood but she nodded. Darcy sighed. He didn’t understand himself. But he couldn’t hang on to the past. He needed to make a clean break. He would keep one number and lose the rest.

  The twenty or so degree temperature drop was hard to get used to. Darcy pulled his jacket tight and tucked his hands in his pockets. Somehow, summer at home had always seemed much warmer than this. Of course, that was before he’d gotten used to ninety-degree temperatures. The lack of sunlight was also a shock after so many months living in the sunbelt.

  He was miserable, missing a city he hadn’t really liked until there at the end. He didn’t think about what he really missed as the days turned into weeks. He kept up with Amber; he knew the magazine was struggling because Bailey refused to work with her. Amber was the only person keeping it afloat. Selling her his interest for a dollar hadn’t been a mistake. She was a good kid—bright, driven, and idealistic. If she and Bailey could just find some common ground, things would work out just fine for the mag.

  And Bailey, well Bailey hadn’t spoken to him since the afternoon in her office but he knew everything about her. According to Amber she just sort of shut down for a while and then came back a different, bitter person. If she was pregnant she had yet to show it. She seemed bound and determined to destroy the magazine, and Amber. But the crew was loyal to Amber. Never to Bailey, he found out. Bailey was their cross to bear.