David, Renewed

by Diana Copland

  David relaxed into the corner of the seat, one leg bent, the other out straight along the floor. “I’ll bet this truck has seen its share of action.”

  Jackson leaned back across from him. “This one, not so much. The Toyota 4Runner I had in high school?” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I had a very good time doing stuff my father never would have approved of.”

  “And you probably would have gotten arrested for it if you’d been caught.”

  David admired Jackson’s long, lanky frame as he gave him an unrepentant smile. “Undoubtedly. Come here.”

  He opened his arms, and David gladly slid across the seat into them, slipping his arms around Jackson’s waist. Jackson leaned back into the corner and accepted his weight, easing David’s head down onto his shoulder. His large, calloused hands moved slowly up and down over the wool covering David’s back and shoulders.

  David closed his eyes, relaxing into his embrace. They didn’t talk for quite a while. He’d nearly dozed off when Jackson finally spoke.

  “You want to tell me what your lawyer had to say?”

  Just that easily, Jackson asked and David answered. Jackson sat quietly, holding him. David laid out Karen’s suggestions. She wanted him to get a restraining order against Trevor, telling him in black and white that the stalking behavior had to stop. Also, Trevor had to either pay for the condo or agree to its sale. When he was done, he lay against Jackson’s shoulder, waiting.

  “I think,” Jackson said slowly, “that you hired a very smart lady and that you ought to listen to her.”

  “Yes, I know.” David sighed. “You don’t think getting a restraining order will just aggravate the situation? I was trying not to provoke him.”

  Jackson’s hand slid to David’s nape, his fingers gently kneading the tense muscles. “I don’t think you’ve done anything to provoke him, and he’s still figuring out ways to harass you. Isn’t he?”

  David’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket as if on cue. He sat up and pulled it out, then shook his head at the irony after reading the screen. Trevor had texted.

  Are you ready to settle this like an adult yet?

  Without his asking, David handed Jackson the phone.

  Jackson made an incredulous sound. “Wow, he may be the single most clueless individual I’ve ever seen.”

  David’s phone buzzed again, then again, and Jackson studied the screen. “What would you like me to do with this?”

  “I need to keep the texts for Karen, but just shut it off. Here.”

  Jackson handed it back, and David pushed the button, shutting the phone down. Then he dropped it to the floor and went back into Jackson’s arms. He laid his head against Jackson’s chest and closed his eyes. For some reason he suddenly felt like he could cry.

  “Is it really stupid that I have this opportunity to jump you,” he asked, his throat thick, “and all I want is for you to hold me?”

  “No,” Jackson said softly, tightening his hold. “No, it isn’t stupid.”

  SATURDAY MORNING, two days after visiting his lawyer, David woke to the insistent ringing of his cell phone. Still groggy he answered it. “Hello?”

  “We need to talk, David.”

  It took a moment for David to realize who it was. “Trevor?” David fumbled for his glasses, finally managing to place them on his face. The digital clock on his nightstand read six thirty. “What the hell, Trevor. It’s six thirty. On a Saturday.”

  “I know what time and day it is,” Trevor snapped back. “I said we need to talk, and you’re ignoring my texts.”

  He had been. Trevor had sent at least a dozen texts the day before, all of them beginning with “we need to talk.” David ignored them all. He wanted to delete them, but Karen told him to keep them in case they needed them.

  “Trevor.” David wearily rubbed his eyes beneath the lenses of his glasses. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

  “I have plenty to say to you,” Trevor retorted. “A restraining order, David? Really?”

  He’d gotten Karen’s letter then. She warned Trevor that having the fraudulent papers delivered, entering David’s office when he wasn’t there, and following him to his residence, not to mention the dozens of texts and phone calls, was stalking behavior and constituted grounds for a restraining order. The letter was pretty clear: knock it off or the order would be filed immediately.

  “You were caught going through my desk. At work.”

  “That little bitch assistant of yours has a big mouth.”

  “You broke the window out of my car!”

  There was a startled pause. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Trevor.”

  “Is that why the police were around here a couple of weeks ago, asking me a bunch of questions? Your car was vandalized?” He sounded genuinely surprised, but then David knew Trevor was a skilled liar. “I didn’t do it, David.”

  David rolled onto his back, his hand going to his hair, not believing him for a moment. “Trevor, seriously. Stop calling me. Stop texting me. If you have an issue, call my lawyer. I believe you have her name and number.”

  “I don’t want to sell the condo, David.”

  “Then refinance it.”

  “I can’t!”

  That made David pause. He closed his eyes. “What do you mean, you can’t? You have a good job.”

  There was a long pause, but it didn’t remind David of Jackson’s. This one almost vibrated with tension.

  Finally Trevor exhaled loudly. “I’m a bit… overextended, and as a result my credit rating is not high enough for me to be able to finance a loan on my own.”

  David stared at the ceiling, marshaling his resolve. He’d wondered, with all the clothes and expensive wine bought on a credit card. “That’s not my fault, Trevor. It’s not my fault you cheated on me, it’s not my fault I had to move out, and it’s not my fault you can’t finance a loan.”

  “You didn’t have to move out.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yes, I did.”

  There was another pause. “So what you’re saying is you don’t care if I lose my home over a blow job?” His voice vibrated with poorly suppressed fury, and David found that, where in the past it might have frightened him, now all it did was make him tired.

  “I didn’t say that. Of course I don’t want you to lose your home. But I won’t pay for you to live in it either.”

  “If you hadn’t bought that fucking house, if you’d been reasonable to begin with, none of this would be happening.”

  David shook his head even though Trevor couldn’t see it. He was beginning to think that in addition to having a cruel streak, the man was deluded. How had he never noticed that?

  But he had, a small voice in his head replied. David had known Trevor could be unreasonable when he didn’t get his way. How many shirts had he buried in his closet because Trevor didn’t like them? How many times had he been afraid he was buying the wrong brand of crackers, the wrong type of cheese, the wrong bottle of wine? How many times over the course of five years had Trevor told him he was wrong? And how many times when Trevor went off into one of his tirades had David secretly been afraid his verbal anger would manifest itself into something physical? Trevor had managed to make David believe he had to go along and keep him happy, not only so that Trevor wouldn’t harm him somehow, but because Trevor had him convinced no one else would ever want him. He was too thin, too white, too openly queer. And suddenly David had had enough. He sat up, every muscle in his body clenched tight.

  “This conversation is over.” He started to hang up the phone and Trevor spoke again.

  “I’ve seen the new guy you’re with, David.” David stilled. “You made a real stink over a blow job, but it didn’t take you long to hook up with someone else, did it?” Trevor’s voice had dropped into a low, almost soothing timbre, but David knew better. “I know all about him. How he’s taking care of his mom, where he lives, what he drives. But you shouldn’t g
et used to him. No guy who looks like that one is going to hang around for long, not with you. And then you’re going to be alone again, David. Alone and vulnerable.”

  A chill spread over David’s skin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just what I said. It means you’ll be alone. I hope you have an alarm system installed. I’d hate to think what could happen to you, alone in that house.”

  David swallowed, determined to keep his voice steady. “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m just saying you can’t be too safe, you know? There are a lot of bad people in the world, David. I’d hate to think one of them might find you, all alone in your cute little house. You might want to consider some sort of protection. I bought a gun last week because I wanted to be certain I could protect myself.”

  David curled his fingers in the sheets, making a tight fist, trying to think what to say, what to do. Finally it came to him.

  “Trevor, you should know this call is being recorded, as will any future calls you make. And I’ve saved all the texts too.”

  The next pause sizzled with tension. David heard a soft click when the call disconnected.

  His phone fell from nerveless fingers and he covered his face with his hands. Shaking, he didn’t know what to do or who to call. It was only six forty-five, too early to call any of his friends. Too early to call Jackson, which was what he wanted to do. Was Trevor right? No guy who looks like that one is going to hang around, not for long. The words echoed in his head, and it felt like a fist closed around his heart, squeezing all the blood out of it. Suddenly unable to sit still, David threw back the sheets and blankets and got out of bed.

  Trevor’s words tried to insinuate themselves into his mind, but David wouldn’t allow it. He wasn’t the same man who had tolerated years of verbal and emotional toll on his ego. He’d never considered himself abused, but looking back on it, he could see he might have been wrong. Karen had said it and Michael had been saying it for years. Well, despite Trevor’s veiled threats, David wasn’t going to let him win, not this time.

  He dressed carefully, wearing black jeans and a paisley print shirt in pink and green. It was almost like having a new wardrobe, getting reacquainted with the clothes Trevor hated. David looked in the mirror and he remembered what he’d loved about the shirt. The pale pink flattered his skin and his hair, and the hint of green in the paisley print brought out the sea-foam color of his eyes. Of course, right then he was pale as death and his eyes were so wide, a slender ring of white showed all around the iris. He pinched his cheeks hard to bring color up into them, then went into his room and methodically made the bed. He put on a pot of coffee and set a box of donuts he’d bought the night before on the counter. Several of the guys would be working in his house that day, and he wanted them to feel welcome. He used a dust mop on the hardwood floors until they gleamed and dusted the furniture and the built-ins, moving quickly, efficiently. But still his mind echoed with the words. I hope you have an alarm system installed. I’d hate to think what could happen to you, alone in that house.

  At eight o’clock, when everything was done and David still felt like the frayed end of a live electrical cord, he called Karen Ridgeway’s private number. She answered on the second ring, sounding as if she’d been up for hours.

  “Karen, this is David Snyder.”

  “Well, good morning, David. What’s up?”

  He told her. He tried to remember the conversation verbatim, even though he was sure he missed things. But it was important, he knew that. When he got to the part about Trevor having bought a gun, she cut him off.

  “This is what I want you to do. Sit down right now, while the conversation is fresh in your mind, and write it down. Either e-mail it to me or bring it to me first thing Monday, and I’ll get it expedited so that the restraining order goes into effect as quickly as humanly possible. And call a security company and have an alarm installed today. This guy is going off the rails, and you don’t want to be in the line of fire when he does.”

  “You think he means it?”

  “I’m aware of too many murder victims who never thought their partner would actually go through with their threats. I think you have to treat this like he will.” She paused. “It would be good if you weren’t there alone right now. Maybe ask a friend to stay with you. This is a serious situation, David. Please treat it like one.”

  David felt sick to his stomach. “Okay, I will.”

  “And I’ll look for that e-mail.”

  “I’ll get it to you.”

  When she hung up, David sat for a minute, staring at the phone in his hand. Then he got up, retrieved his laptop from the office, and went to the living room. He sat on the couch, opened the computer, and pulled up a Word document. And stared at the blank screen, his mind whirling.

  I’m aware of too many murder victims who never thought their partner would actually go through with their threats. I think you have to treat this like he will.

  David didn’t want to believe Trevor would hurt him, but what did he know about it? Unbidden, a memory of the pictures of Manny in the paper came back to him, his face a patchwork of scars and his eyes haunted. Manny probably hadn’t believed George Wilkerson would beat him half to death either.

  David stared at the blank page. Could he bring it back well enough to write it all down? He began to type, covering the basics, and was so engrossed in what he was doing that when the doorbell rang, he jerked back, his hand lifting to the place now throbbing in his throat. Broad shoulders and dark hair showed through the small windows in the door, and for a moment he stiffened. But he should have known better; when he jumped up and yanked the door open, Jackson stood there, his hands in his back pockets as he waited. He started to smile but must have seen something in David’s face. He reached out, catching David’s arm.

  “What’s wrong?”

  David searched the street as he pulled Jackson inside, closing the door behind him. He stared into the pale eyes, trying to stay against the door, trying to firm his spine. But the obvious concern on Jackson’s face pulled him in, and the next thing he knew, he’d wrapped his arms around Jackson’s neck and stood there, trembling in his embrace.

  “David, talk to me.” One of Jackson’s big hands lifted to the back of his head. “What’s happened?”

  David took a deep breath. “My phone rang at six thirty.”

  “And?”

  David didn’t know if he could repeat it all without babbling. He took a step back and gestured. “I called Karen. She told me to write it all down.”

  Jackson’s searching gaze was still on his face. “Can I read it?”

  “Please. I’d rather you did than have to repeat it all again out loud.”

  Jackson’s brow furrowed, but he walked over to the couch, giving David one last concerned look before sitting and leaning over the keyboard.

  “Do you want some coffee?”

  Jackson nodded, his gaze moving over the screen.

  David went into the kitchen and poured cups of coffee, doctoring his heavily with cream and sugar, leaving Jackson’s black the way he said he liked it. He returned just as Jackson sat back on the couch, jaw set, eyes distant but hard. When David handed him his coffee, he took it but set it down immediately on the coffee table, standing.

  “Jackson?”

  “I’ll be right back. I’m just going out to the truck.”

  David followed him, then stood in the open doorway as Jackson strode purposefully down the steps. He bent over the toolbox in the bed of his pickup, then came back with what looked like a small black lunch pail in his hands. David had no idea what it could be.

  Jackson sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside him, then placed the box between them. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and fitted one in the small lock on the box’s handle.

  When he opened the lid, David recoiled. Inside, resting in a black foam space tooled specifically for that purpose, was a gun.

  “Jackson!” he gasped. �
�What….”

  “I bought it to keep in the truck when it was vandalized. The police suggested it actually. They told me if someone was willing to take a baseball bat to my truck, I should be prepared for them to take one to my head. Have you ever fired a gun?”

  David put his coffee, which had begun to slosh alarmingly against the sides of the mug due to his trembling, on the coffee table and wrapped his arms tight across his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. “No, I’ve never even held one. And I don’t want to start now.”

  “I understand,” Jackson said, and if his expression was anything to go by, he did. “I didn’t either. But you’ve been threatened, David. Pretty blatantly. I think you have to take steps to defend yourself.”

  “I’m calling an alarm company this morning.”

  “That’s good, but I still think you need the gun too.”

  “Jackson, I don’t even know how to fire it. Plus I don’t think I could point it at anyone, knowing I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

  “Okay.” Jackson studied him calmly. “I want you to remember how you felt this morning when Trevor told you he’d purchased a gun, and the inference he was making.”

  David doubted he’d ever forget it. Just recalling it made his stomach cramp. He looked at the gun in the box. It wasn’t big, but even lying there it looked lethal.

  “If he somehow got in here without being invited, wouldn’t it make you feel better to know you had backup?”

  David hated how readily his mind went to yes. Still, he hesitated.

  “Please, David,” Jackson said softly, reaching over and taking David’s hand. He looked deeply into his eyes. “I can’t be here all of the time, not with what’s going on with my mom. But every time I leave you, I’m going to worry. Let me leave the gun here, please.”

  David stared down at it, the gun a deadly blue-black against the dark gray egg crate foam. “What about you?” he asked faintly. Much as he hated to admit it, he would feel safer with the gun in the house, could even imagine picking it up in his hand. Something he never would have imagined before that day.