by Alexa Land
“I know, Uncle Ray. That’s why I kept quiet about it while Dad was alive. But you accepted Jamie, and I was hoping maybe you’d accept me, too,” Kieran said.
“Of course I accept you, Kieran, no matter what. I love ya like a son, I always have and always will. Though I gotta be honest, I’m kinda stunned that all of a sudden everyone’s comin’ outta the closet. I mean, who’s next? Brian?” They both chuckled at that.
“Yeah, not likely.”
Ray shifted in his squeaky office chair and asked, “So, what’s this about a case?” Apparently he was ready to move on from the whole gay revelation. It seemed kind of anticlimactic.
“Christopher was assaulted almost a year and a half ago,” Kieran said. “No arrests were made. I want the case reopened.”
“So why’d you come to me? Why didn’t you take it to your captain?”
“Orevitz isn’t the most gay-friendly cop on the force. Sure, he’s careful to appear politically correct now that he’s captain. But I remember him when he was still moving up the ranks, he and my dad were really close. I remember the way they used to talk about gay people and the offensive jokes they’d tell, and I just don’t want him anywhere near this case.”
Ray exhaled slowly. “Kinda puts me in an awkward position. Let’s hope this case originated out of Central, that’d give some justification as to why I’d be the one reopening it.”
“I actually have no idea where it originated,” Kieran said.
“Lemme take a look at it. Might be there’s no more investigating to be done, maybe they hit a bunch of dead ends. But it doesn’t hurt to pull the file and give it a look-see.” He put on a pair of glasses and grabbed a pad of paper from his cluttered desktop. “So, Christopher, do you remember your case number?”
“No sir.”
“Ok. Then give me your full name and the date and location of the assault. I can look it up that way.” He handed the pad and a pen to me and I wrote down the information. When I gave it back to him, he looked at it, and then he looked at me. Finally, he turned to the big computer on his desktop and typed with one index finger.
When he found what he was looking for, he said, “Good news. It did originate out of this department, so it wouldn’t be inappropriate for me to originate the request to reopen the case.” He scrolled through the report for a few moments. Abruptly, Ray’s back stiffened, and he ground his teeth together. I could guess what he’d just read. He turned his attention to his nephew and said, “Kieran, are you aware of what this young man did for a living at the time of this incident?”
“Yes sir,” Kieran said. “I’m working on getting him out of the business.”
I didn’t say anything to that, studying my hands in my lap. Ray stared at us for a long moment and finally said to Kieran, “So you’re dating a prostitute. That’s what you’re telling me?”
“I’m dating Christopher, sir. Please try to look past his job, and see that for the first time ever, I’ve found someone that makes me happy. Someone that means the world to me.”
His uncle mulled this over for a while before asking, “Did you two meet on the job?” I wondered how I was supposed to interpret that question. Was he asking if Kieran had paid for sex, or if he’d arrested me?
Kieran raised an eyebrow at that. “No sir. We met at Jamie’s Christmas party, and again at Charlie Connolly’s wedding.”
After another pause, Ray said, “You gotta know this relationship is gonna wreak havoc on your career. Probably in this day and age, many of your colleagues will accept the fact that you’re a homosexual. But the fact that you’re dating a gay prostitute, that ain’t gonna sit well with nobody.”
“I know,” Kieran said quietly. “But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is Christopher.”
I looked over at him and studied his handsome profile. And then wordlessly, I picked up one of Kieran’s hands and held it between both of mine.
Kieran gave me a little smile, then turned back to his uncle. “I’m willing to deal with the fallout from this relationship. I know that it’s going to cause a lot of rifts with members of our family, and with my coworkers. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
“I’m not sure you fully understand the level of harassment we’re talking about here. I’ve seen many a cop forced to leave the department when his fellow officers turned on him, often for perceived offenses way less than this. You love this job, Kier, it’s all ya ever talked about since you were little. If you’re forced out, then what?”
“Nobody’s forcing me out. I don’t care how bad it gets.”
Ray lowered his voice. “It’s more than just the looks and comments you’re gonna get. What’s gonna happen if your coworkers are slow to respond when you need backup? You could get killed or hurt on the job if you don’t have the support of your fellow officers.”
My eyes went wide. “They wouldn’t really do that, would they?”
Ray shrugged. “I’d like to say no. And of course, the official policy is that any cop that did something like that would be suspended immediately. But does it happen? Think about it. Your coworkers are pissed at you and you put in a call for backup. You think they’re gonna bust their ass getting to you? They’ll respond to the call, they wouldn’t blatantly ignore it, but an extra minute or two as they take their time getting there could mean the difference between life and death.” Ray shifted in his seat and added, “Now I wanna be clear. Is this every cop I’m talkin’ about? Hell no. Is it even the majority of ‘em? Of course not. But the fact is, there will always be a few individuals that’ll let their personal opinions affect the way they do their job.”
“That’s terrible,” I murmured.
“That’s reality. I’d like to say that police officers are somehow a cut above, that we’re not prone to cruelty and pettiness and all that bullshit. But I been on the force a long time, and I’ve seen plenty I ain’t proud of. And here’s what I know: we’re no worse than the general population, but we’re no better either, no matter what we tell ourselves.”
“I can handle it,” Kieran said, his brows knit.
“If it gets bad, I want you to come to me. Promise me, Kier. I don’t want you dealing with that shit on your own,” his uncle said.
“Yeah, ok,” Kieran muttered.
Ray watched his nephew for a long moment, then turned his attention back to the computer screen. He scrolled down a little farther, and then murmured, “Shit.” He read for a few moments, then looked at me. “I’m sorry about what was done to you, Christopher. That’s a hell of a thing to live through.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said quietly.
“From what I see at a glance,” Ray continued, “there wasn’t sufficient follow-up done on this case. The lead officer was Rupert, he ain’t on the force anymore, got let go for alleged misconduct. Maybe he slacked off on this case, maybe he didn’t. I don’t know at this point, but we can find out. I’m gonna requisition the original file and put in an official request to get this reopened.”
“I want to be assigned to the case,” Kieran said. “I know it’s unusual to pull in someone from a different station, but I want to make sure this gets all the attention it deserves.”
“You know I’m not gonna bring you in, Kier. There’s a huge conflict of interest. And there’s no need for you to be involved anyway. You put the case in my hands, so trust me with it. I promise you I won’t let it fall through the cracks again.”
After a few moments, Kieran begrudgingly agreed. Then he said, “Christopher can provide a sketch of the perpetrator. I want that included in the file.”
“Good, that’ll be helpful. I’m also gonna want to re-interview you, Christopher, as soon as the case is officially assigned to me. Is that gonna be a problem? Would you feel more comfortable with another officer that isn’t related to your boyfriend?” Ray asked. I studied him for a moment. He obviously wasn’t thrilled that his nephew was involved with me. But he was already treating the case with professionalism, despite his perso
nal feelings.
“I’d prefer it to be you, sir.” My voice sounded so small to me.
“Alright,” Ray said. “I’m gonna file all the necessary paperwork soon as we’re done here. Should just take a day or two to get this all up and running. Leave your contact information, and I’ll set up an interview time with you when it’s officially reopened.” He pushed the legal pad toward me, and I jotted down my address and phone number. He looked surprised when he saw the address I’d written, and said, “Oh. You’re living in Jamie’s old apartment.”
“Yes sir. I was Charlie Connolly’s roommate before he got married.”
“It’s a one bedroom apartment.”
“I slept on the couch.”
I wasn’t sure what Ray made of all that. But after a moment, he muttered, “Yeah, ok.”
Kieran stood up and extended his hand to his uncle, who shook it as Kieran said, “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you taking the time to hear us out.”
Ray held his hand out to me next. “I’ll be in touch soon,” he said as we shook hands. “You may want to take some time and write down all you remember about your assault. I know that’s gonna be difficult, but the more details I have, the better. If you could have that sketch ready by the time we meet, that’d be helpful, too.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
“And Christopher,” he added, “you really ought to reconsider your career choices. You seem like a decent kid. Probably you could figure out a way to make a living that ain’t illegal.”
Chapter Thirteen
I was quiet as Kieran drove us back to my apartment. Finally when he pulled up to the curb, I said softly, “I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about how being with me would affect your life.”
“It doesn’t matter. There are always people that will question my choices. But they’re my choices, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
“Sure you do. You didn’t even come out before now because you were worried about how others would react. And now your family knows you’re dating a prostitute. I’m so sorry about bringing all these complications into your life.”
“I used to worry about what others might think, but I’m growing up now. I’m just not going to let people’s opinions dictate how I live my life anymore.” He kissed me gently, then rested his forehead against mine.
“I don’t get it,” I admitted. “I don’t get why you’d put yourself through so much to be with me.”
“No?” The corners of Kieran’s lips turned up in a little smile. “Someday I’ll explain it to you.” He kissed me again.
I sighed and said, “I want to get that sketch and summary over with for your uncle, and I’m not going to be very good company after that. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure baby.” He wound a lock of my hair around his index finger. “But if you change your mind and decide you don’t want to be alone, just text me and I’ll be right over.”
I wasn’t willing to let go of him just yet, so I laced my fingers together at the back of his neck and bought myself some more time with him by asking, “What’re you going to do this afternoon?”
“A homeowner’s work is never done. I need to sand the stairs and landing, get them ready for painting. I need to replace that front window, too, but I guess that’s kind of pointless right now. Brian’s pretty pissed at me, so he’d probably just break it again.”
“How did he break it last time?”
“He threw a dinner plate through it.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t like what I made him for dinner,” he said with a frown. “I don’t really cook for him anymore, there’s no pleasing him. He prefers frozen dinners to what I was making for him anyway.”
I studied him for a moment, then said, “Brian needs help. You know that, right?”
“Oh, I definitely know that. He needs counseling as well as physical therapy. You can’t actually force someone to get help, though. Whenever I try to bring it up, he just explodes,” Kieran said. He was quiet for a few moments before he added, “He was going to go into law enforcement after the Marines, and feels like his entire future was taken from him along with his limbs. I get why he’s so angry. I just wish I knew how to help him.” There was so much pain in his eyes when he said that.
I hugged him for a long time, and had to force myself to let go of him. “I’ll talk to you soon, Kieran.”
He kissed me again. “Ok, baby.” I ran my fingertips over his cheek before getting out of the car.
Once in my apartment, I changed out of my good outfit and went for full-on comfort, sweats and lots of layers of clothing, topped with Kieran’s sweater. Then I curled into a ball on the couch and thought about what Ray Nolan had said.
Finding out what Kieran could face on the job because of me was horrifying. Our relationship could literally endanger him, if it meant losing the support of fellow officers petty enough to let their personal opinions affect how they did their job. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of Kieran in danger and not getting the help he needed fast enough, because of me.
I was bad for him, that was the bottom line. I’d cause problems for him on the job, and I’d drive a wedge between him and his family. And the closer we got, the more problematic my job would become. I had known right from the start that he and I couldn’t date. But I’d let myself get attached to him anyway, and let him get attached to me. I’d selfishly spent more time with him, because it felt so amazing to be with him.
The thought of breaking up with him tore my heart out. But it just felt so inevitable. Even if I quit working, all that really did was elevate me from hooker to ex-hooker. Was that going to change anyone’s opinion of me? Was it going to make Kieran’s life any easier? I doubted it. Kieran deserved so much better than me, and all the grief and complications I brought into his life.
Before I could even begin to figure out what I was going to say to him, though, there was an awful task that I had to tackle. I sighed and uncoiled myself from the couch, then went and found a pencil and sketch pad. I returned to the sofa and tucked my feet underneath me, and took a deep breath as I folded back the cover. I had to get this sketch done for his uncle, it was important. Ever since Kieran brought up the fact that this person could still be out there hurting other boys, I’d been determined to do my part to catch him.
Drawing the man that had assaulted me was upsetting, to say the least. The first sketch wasn’t quite accurate, so I tried again, and again. Finally, with the fourth sketch, I got it right, and took a long look at the face on my drawing pad. He was maybe his late thirties, his appearance remarkable only in its utter lack of remarkability. He was Caucasian with thinning brown hair and regular features. The only thing that stood out was a half-inch long scar on his upper lip in the shape of a backwards question mark. Other than that he was almost generic, the kind of guy you passed on the street without a glance or a thought.
I took the three initial drawings to the kitchen, folded them up into tight little squares, and threw them in the trash, then leaned against the counter and wrapped my arms around myself. I thought back to that summer afternoon sixteen months ago and shivered, despite the layers of warm clothing.
I’d been out on the street for hours, and had planned on working late into the night since tuition for fall quarter was due in just a few days. It had been unseasonably cold, a strong wind blowing off the bay. When the man approached me and bought me for an hour, I remembered being glad that I’d get to be out of the wind for a while. We walked to a nearby seedy motel, one I’d been taken to by other customers a million times before. He already had a room, and he made conversation with me as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m kind of nervous,” he’d said with a shy smile. “I don’t do this a lot. Mind if we just talk for a while before we get started?” I’d assured him that was fine. None of that was uncommon. “I’m going to have some dinner while we talk, I skipped lunch,” he told me as he opened a red and white cooler
that was on the little table. He picked up a sandwich, peeled back the plastic wrap and took a bite, then indicated the cooler with a casual gesture. “There’s plenty more. Help yourself to some food if you want.” He took another big bite.
I remembered considering that for a long moment. There were no warning bells going off. This guy just seemed so normal, so nonthreatening. And besides, he was eating the food he’d brought, which also helped put me at ease. It was dinnertime, and I was hungry. So I thought, why not? Why pass up a free meal? I’d save money on dinner, plus I wouldn’t have to miss out on potential customers by taking a dinner break later.
I had thanked him as I took a sandwich from the cooler. And then I made the biggest mistake of my life.
Whatever the sandwich was laced with went to work quickly. Before I’d even finished eating, the room started to go in and out of focus. My arms and legs felt so heavy. I dropped the sandwich and started to fall, but the man caught me and put me on the bed, and began stripping me. I tried to talk, tried to ask him what was happening, but I couldn’t make my mouth form words.
And then he’d started hitting me. I’d been beaten many times, but this was something else entirely, beyond brutal and out of control. Fear and panic welled up in me. I’d never felt more helpless, more frightened. He was talking to me as he beat me…I wanted to remember what he was saying, but the more I tried to concentrate on it now, the more it slipped from my grasp.
I had tried to fight against the drug at first, tried to stay awake, because I knew that once I passed out, it was all over. He was going to kill me, I was sure of it. But when he began to rape me, I stopped struggling to remain conscious. As I blacked out, I felt myself letting go, welcoming the end.
Four days later I woke up in a hospital, hooked to all kinds of machines. By chance, I’d been found in a dumpster by a homeless woman that had been looking for cans and bottles to turn in for the five cent deposit. I’d been left to die, naked and bleeding, thrown out like trash. I don’t know how or why I survived, and it was a miracle that the woman found me when she did. I always wanted to find her and thank her, but she’d given the police a fake name when they arrived on the scene following her 911 call (I knew that because the officer that came to talk to me at the hospital said she gave her name as Mariah Carey, and described her as an Asian woman in her late sixties).