Afire: Entire Blinded Series
Page 3
“Uh, she asked that the police not come and inform you that she'd gone—that one of your friends had to do it. Me, actually, though no one else offered anyway. Her next door neighbour heard the...noise and went to check on her. They apparently had each other's house keys. And she knew someone who knew me—knew me and you had been friends as kids. And, uh, she left you some money. It's in my bag.”
“Don't want it.” Lee stood and walked over to the window, staring out at a village that had never accepted him. Much like his mother.
Christ, poor bastard. “Didn't think you would, but I brought it anyway.”
Lee sighed and sipped his coffee. “Suppose you're going to tell me she died in her sleep, all peaceful, no suffering. Not what I wished for her, I can tell you. And yeah, I sound a bastard, but you weren't brought up by her. You—”
“Hey!” Ryan got up and stood beside him, placing his hand on his arm. “I know all this, don't I? No need to explain it to me. I understand, all right? I only came because if I didn't tell you, you've got to admit you'd wonder why. It's one of those situations where I can't do right for doing wrong, but that's okay. I expected that.”
Nodding, Lee said, “Sorry. Not your fault. It's just...when I think of her, all the bad comes back, know what I mean? Like it was all happening again, except I see it in my head. But I feel it inside. Still fucking feel it, as if it was fresh. God!” He sniffed and sipped again. “So how was it? How did she go?”
Ryan hiked in a deep breath. Tell him. Just say it how it was. “She shot herself.”
Lee's head whipped round to face him, his widened eyes wild and bright. “What? My old dear killed herself?” He huffed out a laugh. “How the hell did she get hold of a gun? You've got to be kidding me, right?”
Lightly squeezing Lee's arm, Ryan shook his head, words failing him for a moment. He swallowed then said, “D'you want the money and the note?”
“No. Reckon she'll have written a load of bollocks about what a disappointment I was. I already know that, so what's the point in reminding myself? And as for the money... Give it to charity or something.”
“But it's twenty grand, Lee. I shit myself bringing it all this way. It's in cash. Her neighbour got it and the notes out of the house before the police arrived.”
“Doesn't matter how much it is. Don't you see? Anything from her is tainted. Even me. I can't even bring myself to forgive, can I?” He sighed and left the window, pacing up and down the room. “Look, I hate to do this to you, but uh, could you give me some space?”
Ryan's stomach plummeted, and his immediate thought was that if he left, Lee wouldn't want to see him again. Christ, I'm a selfish bastard. Let him have his time alone. Last thing he'll be thinking of is me. Go. Leave him be. “Sure. I'll, uh... Well, I'll go back home, all right? Give you a ring tomorrow or something.”
Lee stopped pacing and turned to face him. “No. I don't mean... Not that far away. Don't go back yet.”
“Oh. Right. Uh, okay. I'll go into the village for a bit then, yeah?”
Lee nodded, his knuckles white as he gripped his cup. “Yeah. Only for a bit, though. I'll ring you. Come and meet you after I've had a think.”
“All right. I'll, um, go and freshen up, then.”
Ryan left the room, guts churning, sick to his stomach that he'd hurt Lee with this news, dredged up the past, making Lee go right back to childhood all over again. But what else could he have done? In the kitchen, he rooted in his bag for clean clothes, fingers brushing the large envelope full of money and the smaller one containing the note. He took out some jeans and a black T-shirt, followed by boxers and socks. Heart heavy, he went upstairs to the bathroom, annoyed with himself for forgetting to bring up his wash bag. Making do, he put his clothes on the floor and brushed his teeth using his finger. Finished, he switched the shower on, as hot as he could stand it, and stepped into the cubicle. The image of Lee downstairs all alone hurt his heart, and he resisted the urge to get out and go down to give him comfort. He knew Lee too well, though. If he said he needed space, he needed it. It would only cause friction if Ryan ignored his request.
Once clean, he dried himself off and dressed, jeans sticking to his semi-damp skin as he pulled them up. He hung the towel on a door hook and collected his dirty clothes. Returning downstairs, he grimaced as anxiety rushed through him. Back in the living room, he expected Lee to be there and raised his eyebrows, fretting over where he'd gone.
For God's sake! He's a grown man. Stop worrying.
Boots and coat on, he pulled his beanie over his head and walked to the kitchen. Lee stood staring out the window in the back door, dry eyed, jaw clenched. Ryan reached into his bag and took out the envelopes.
“I'll, uh, leave these here.” He placed them on the worktop. “Just in case you—”
“All right. Thanks.” Lee continued to stare.
“Um, I'll be off then. You, uh, you take care okay?”
Lee nodded. “Will do.”
Ryan had the urge to go to him, to offer a hug, anything, but instead walked out and down the hall, checking his phone and wallet were in his coat pocket. Outside, he closed the front door and stood on the path, looking out over the village. He'd probably get a frosty reception if the old lady was anything to go by, and he inhaled a lungful of air before heading for the path that led downhill.
With time to think himself, he considered what Lee had said last night. Need you here. Did he dare entertain what that could mean? It could have just been something said as the pull of sleep tugged him, but what if it wasn't? What if it was more than that? Lee's admission that he couldn't return to a town meant that to make this work, Ryan would have to move into the cabin. He could do that all right, but after each of them had lived alone for so long, wouldn't they annoy one another after a while?
He exhaled and tromped down the path, fatigue making a reappearance. At the bottom of the hill, he headed toward the main road, spotting a sign that read Market Street. Taking that turning, he ended up at what could only be described as a row of buildings that catered for the villager's bare essentials. A small convenience store boasted posters in the window of so-called special offers that were big fat lies. Paying over the odds for a loaf of bread wasn't Ryan's idea of special, and he turned his attention to a newsagents that doubled as a post office. A pub stood on the corner, its swinging sign proclaiming it The Boar's Head, and he walked up to it and peered through the window, gratified to see they kept town hours. He glanced at his watch: ten-thirty. Too early for a beer, but he spied an old man in the corner drinking from a large cup and reading a newspaper. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Talk about walking into the past. Everything appeared as it might have done more than a couple of decades ago. Brasses hung either side of a grey brick fireplace, and old-fashioned mirrors graced the walls, their gaudy advertisements like something from the ‘80s. Cream paint covered anaglypta wallpaper, thick from many layers added over the years, the corners warped and coming away from the walls. It stunk of cigarette smoke, despite the modern ban of lighting up in public places, and the source of the smell came from a middle-aged man sitting at the bar. Ryan assumed it was business as usual here. After all, the police were hardly going to bother coming to this village unless they were called out.
Ryan approached the bar and leaned his arms on it. The black-haired woman who had given him directions breezed through a door at the back and approached him, a smile of recognition brightening her face.
“Hello! What can I get you?” She grasped an ale pump, head tilted as she regarded him.
“Uh, a coffee would be good, thanks.”
“Too early for a beer, eh?” She smiled and turned to the rear bar, lifting a carafe from the coffee machine and pouring the dark liquid into a cup. “Sugar and creamer?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“Please. Thanks.”
She placed two sugar sachets and a tiny tub of cream beside the cup on a saucer and handed him the brew. “Nine
ty pence. Free biscuit, though, if you want one.”
Ryan took out his wallet and handed her the money. “No thanks. D'you get busy?” he asked, more for something to say than really wanting to know.
“Not really. Quiz night brings a few in, and today we'll have a straggle, it being Saturday and what not, but most of the time it's pretty dead.” She smiled again, shifting her weight onto one leg, her wide hips telling of possible childbirth. “So, you got to Lee's all right then?”
“Yeah. Directions were spot on. Thanks.”
“Good. Did he not come into the village with you?”
“Uh, no.”
“Everything all right?”
He feigned brightness. “Yeah, he's just a bit busy. Meeting me later.”
“Ah, right. Just that you look a bit troubled.”
Though she was pleasant enough, her enquires pissed him off. He supposed a newcomer to the village brought a break from the norm and it was only natural that she asked questions, but shit!
“I'm all right,” he said. “Bit tired from walking last night, that's all.” He lifted his cup and saucer. “I'm going to, uh, going to sit over by the window for a bit.” Nodding, he moved to walk away.
“Did you want a free biscuit?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Um, no thanks.” Getting away while he could, Ryan went over to a table in front of the large window that afforded him a view of the whole street. He could see Lee coming when he was ready to come meet him.
But what if he isn't? What if he needs all day? I can't sit here until tonight. I'll give it until two then ring him. If he still wants to be alone, I'll nip back to his place and collect my bag. Go home. Come back when he's ready. If he's ready.
That last thought scared him.
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Chapter Four
Ryan's phone chirped, indicating he'd received a text message. He jumped. Having waited so long, he'd convinced himself Lee wasn't going to call. It might not even be him. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.
HER FUNERAL BEEN ARRANGED YET?
He replied: NO. THERE'S AN ENQUIRY BECAUSE OF THE GUN. He waited for a response. Too many coffees sitting in his belly griped his stomach, and he stared at the menu behind the bar. Today's special was pea soup with a crusty roll and the main was cottage pie and beans. The soup didn't appeal, but the pie did. He'd order one in a minute once Lee texted back.
His phone chirped again.
NEED YOU. COME BACK.
He stood, replying as he walked to the door, sending back the message that he was on his way. Outside, the cold air slapped him after the warmth of the pub, and he hunched his shoulders, standing his collar up to keep his neck warm. The walk seemed to take forever, despite him almost jogging, the climb up the hill longer still. At the top, he panted and walked toward the cabin, wanting nothing more than to run. So why didn't he? If he was honest, he was wary of what he'd find inside. Could he handle a tearful Lee? An angry Lee? He'd have to.
He knocked on the door, only for it to swing open, no Lee on the other side. Heart thrumming, Ryan stepped inside and closed the door, going straight to the living room. No Lee. He checked the kitchen, and on finding it empty, he looked out the window just in case Lee had needed some air. He hadn't. The garden remained deserted. He took the stairs two at a time and entered Lee's bedroom, the drawn curtains giving it the air of being later than it was. Lee rested on his side, curled up in a ball. The envelopes lay next to him, the smaller one open, the corner of the paper inside poking out.
“Uh, you all right?” Ryan asked, cursing himself for saying something so stupid. Clearly Lee wasn't all right. He'd been crying by the looks of it.
“Yeah. I am now. You?” Lee stared at the wall.
Ryan moved to the bed and sat on the edge. “Yeah. I'm fine.”
Silence encompassed the room, and Ryan searched for something to say. But what could he say in this situation without either upsetting him or making him angry? He waited for Lee to supply something, anything to give him some idea of how the next few minutes would go.
“Haven't been crying for her,” Lee said, hands fisted beneath his chin. “Cried for the kid I was. For how different things could have been if she wasn't the way she was. Her letter... She killed herself out of guilt. For pushing me away. Took to going to church after I left, so she said. Made her see a few things. S'pose the guilt got to her in the end. Funny, because I heard the Bible didn't tolerate the likes of us.” He laughed, a dry, empty sound. “Maybe it was the Christian shit in there that got to her. Who knows? Who fucking cares. It doesn't rub out all the things she did while I grew up. Doesn't make anything better.” He blinked, and a tear trickled across the bridge of his nose. “Wants me to have the money to make up for all the crap she put me through. Said I should spend it to bring me some happiness. That she hadn't given me much of that.” He paused for long moments. “What would you do?”
Ryan held out his hand, praying Lee would take it. He did.
“I don't know. I really don't. It's something you've got to decide. If you think you deserve it, then take it, but if you'd feel sick spending it, don't. You've got enough to live on. You don't need it. So what does it matter what you do with it?”
“Thought the same.” Lee squeezed Ryan's hand. “Sorry about shutting you out.”
“It's all right. Nothing to worry about.” He braced himself to ask the next question, worried he'd get a shouted answer and Lee's disapproval. “Uh, you going back to sort out the funeral?”
Lee sighed. “S'pose I should. Make sure she's really dead.” He chuckled, though it didn't sound mean. Not really.
“Want me to go with you?”
Nodding, Lee said, “If you wouldn't mind.” He took his gaze from the wall and looked at Ryan. “She mentioned you. In the letter.”
Ryan frowned. “Did she?”
“Yeah, said she'd always liked you, and if I couldn't bring myself to like girls, she'd have preferred us two to get together rather than me pick someone else and be unhappy. She always did have to spoil her rare nice times with a barbed comment. Still, after all these years, I finally got her approval on something. I hate to admit it, but it means a lot, you know? I mean, growing up like I did, I just wanted her to love me like your mum loves you. Just wanted to do something that she'd be proud of. And I s'pose her approving of you, despite you being a bloke, is as close as I'm going to get.”
A lump formed in Ryan's throat, and he forced himself to speak around it. “So, uh, d'you think you're going to be all right?”
“Yeah. Once I get a hug from you.”
Relief surged through Ryan, and he settled down beside Lee, stroking his face, fingers jolting over the wet skin. Lee hugged Ryan to him, their legs tangled together, arms holding one another tightly. His ear against Lee's chest, Ryan listened to the steady thud of the other's heart, the beats out of sync with his own. His cock hardened, and he chastised himself for feeling this way when Lee was upset and had more important things on his mind.
Lee lifted his arm and took off Ryan's hat, smoothing his hand over the shaved hair. “It's okay, you know.”
Taking Lee's words to mean his situation, Ryan smiled and nodded. Lee looked down between them, and Ryan understood.
“Sorry, it's just...when I'm near you...”
“Like I said, it's okay. Life for the living doesn't stop when someone dies. We carry on, don't we? And I'll get over this in time. Shit, I've coped with it all so far, haven't I? Just got a few extras to sort out in my head, that's all.” He leaned forward and rubbed Ryan's nose with his.
“I, uh, I really care about you. You know that, don't you?” The lump in Ryan's throat expanded.
“Yeah. Always have, always will.”
Lee put his groin to Ryan's, showing his own desire. Relieved, Ryan waited for the next move to come from his lover. It did with the sweeping of one hand up and down his back, the shedding of their clothes, th
en a finger dipping into the top of his ass cleft. Ryan's hips bucked involuntarily, and his cock pressed closer, their rigidity clean and hot and pure, their primal urges overtaking sorrow and distress. Lee's finger trailed down the crease to rub over Ryan's pucker, the slow up and down tightening his bollocks and stirring a drip of pre-cum to dribble.
God, he gets me so fucking hot so quickly.
A flash of the times he'd had to fist himself to completion came to mind. Never, during those nights, had he come so close so fast. Nothing beat intimate contact, the touches that sent his desires rocketing, pushing like a hard shove. He returned the caress, finger in the same place, moving at the same speed. They stared at one another, Ryan waiting for those lips to brush his, complementing the sensations on his ass hole. Lee's head remained where it was on the pillow, but his other hand came up between them and grasped both their cocks, setting a rhythm at odds with the strokes on their puckers. Ryan brought his hand up to grip Lee's wrist, guiding him to a slower, more sensual tempo that pushed his bliss up several notches. He wanted it languid, meaningful, a complete exploration of one another. He needed to see if the reality matched his imaginings. Lee leaned forward and kissed him—and the reality surpassed anything he had ever envisaged. The soft beauty of that kiss robbed Ryan's breath and prompted tears. It was okay to cry, wasn't it? Cry at the brilliance of being together? A tear trickled from one closed eye and dripped onto the pillow.
Don't let him have seen it.
He kissed Lee harder, wanting to convey how much he'd missed him, needed him. Lee responded, their tongues searching out the other's, the strokes on their cocks gaining a little more speed. Lee's finger slipped inside Ryan's ass, and Ryan lifted his knee up over Lee's hip to give him better access. His sheath tightened around the finger as it moved up and down, twisting in search of the nub that would send Ryan over the edge. Lee located it, rubbing circles over it, and the familiar tingle at the root of Ryan's cock turned into a throbbing insistence that heralded him coming very soon. He eased his finger into Lee's ass and mimicked him. His cock pulsed in time with Lee's, and Ryan kissed harder, faster, moving his hand to quicken the pace on their cocks.