by Davis, SJ
I wrap my arms around his waist. “Come on, just for a few minutes?”
“Nope, step away from me with your evil seductive ways.” He can’t stop laughing, it’s so playful. He crosses two fingers in a cross at me.
“You are wicked fine, you know that?” I slap him on the ass, then back up.
Dax snatches the kitchen towel that hangs on the oven door, and winds it in circles in the air.
“Don’t do it, I mean it.” I hold my hand out in front of me to stop him.
He gives me a wink. “Don’t do what?” He snaps the towel at me, several times in a row.
“Stop, dammit.”
“Getting angry Damien?” I grab the end of the towel and he tugs it back towards him.
No way in hell am I letting it go. When he jerks it towards him, he pulls me with him. I slam into his body and he lowers his head sucking my lip into his mouth, then pulls back making a smack sound.
“Oh, when you were upstairs, someone named Ron called for you. Said he was one of the foremen on the site, and needs you out there to check the soil levels tonight.”
“Ah shit! I have to go. Apparently water must be standing instead of draining out. I need to see what’s going on and determine if we need a dredger out there.”
“Damien, how are you going to see anything? It’s dark outside.”
“We have homemade entrance ramps up to the sites every mile or so, I’ll just drive up there and use my headlights. I’ve done it a million times.”
“Can I ride with you?” He turns and faces me.
“No, just stay here, it won’t take long. I should be back in an hour or so.” I walk to the entryway and slip on my boots.
Dax walks up behind me and gives me a kiss. “Be careful.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going on a covert mission or anything, I’m going to shove a stick in some mud. I think I’ll be fine.” I snatch my keys out of the basket and smile at him.
“Hurry back!” He straightens the collar on my shirt then gives me another kiss.
I slip the truck in reverse, and back out of the garage, making sure to hit the clicker to lock it back down. Thank goodness the site isn’t too far. It’ll take more time for me to do the tests than for me to get there.
I light a smoke, as I enter the ramp. Pulling directly in front of the first place to test, this place is a freaking mess. Without a doubt, I’ll need a dredger, but I still need to double check for paperwork purposes.
My waders are in the toolbox in the bed of the truck, so I slip them on over my jeans and go to the area. I pull out my notepad to track everything. Geez, the men working here left in a hurry when the rain hit. They left wood and rebar all over the place. They never cleaned up the concrete rocks that are in clumps from the last concrete pour either. I jot it down in my notes, this is unacceptable.
Headlights appear, entering the ramp. It must be Ron coming to give me a hand, no one else knows I’m here besides Dax. He parks next to my truck leaving the lights on. His lights brighten the place up a little more, but it’s still hard to see anything out here. There’s not any side roads yet, therefore, no streetlights, no traffic or anything. I continue my evaluations.
The truck door slams, but I can’t see him, the lights are blinding me. I look back to my stick, trying to get white spots out of my head from the headlights when I hear him nearing me.
“Hey Ron, this is one big clusterfuck dude. I’m glad you called. We’re definitely going to have to get that pump down here to clear this water out, or we’ll be on hold for another two weeks.”
“I’m not Ron.”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I jab the stick into the mud and turn towards him.
“Aaron, why are you here? What the hell is going on?” I cross my hands across my chest in defensive mode.
“I told you I needed to see you, too talk to you Damien.”
“And I told you no. Wait, how did you know I was out here?” Instinctively, my hands drop to my hips.
Aaron reaches down, grabbing a two by four lying on the ground. His fingernail chips the wood splinters off of the end. One end of the board sticks into the mud on the ground, the other end, is what he’s fidgeting nervously with.
“You didn’t answer my question Aaron.”
“I made the call to your house.” He drops his head, almost looking shameful, and definitely guilty.
“Whoa, what did you just say? You called my house pretending to be Ron? Seriously?” I’m fucking pissed, how dare him.
What in the hell is going on with him? Who does he think he is? He’s mad and upset, I already knew that, but to try to trick me to get me away from the house, away from Dax, is pushing things just a little too fucking far. That crosses stalker lines, I’ll be damned if that happens.
“You need to leave Aaron.” I pull my cell from my pocket.
“Damien, just let me explain, please. I love you, I really do.”
“Dude, I think you need to get your head checked. Maybe you should have thought about that before you brought the hard dick into our bed. You don’t even know what love is Aaron. Just leave before I call the cops.”
I’m beyond pissed right now, I’m freakin’ livid. How dare this bastard!
“Just tell me you don’t love me, tell me Damien.” He pleads with his hand out in front of him.
“I don’t love you Aaron. I’m sorry, but I just don’t.” My arms drop to my side, my cell still in one hand.
“You’re lying, I know better. I guess you think you’re in love with that pool guy huh? Is that what this is all about?” He drops the two by four board and shoves me in the chest demanding an answer.
Instincts kick in overdrive. I stomp back towards him and wrap my fingers around his throat. His eyes bulge a bit, and there’s no readable expression on his face.
“Have you lost your fucking mind Aaron? I’ll pop your head off like a zit. You leave Dax out of this, he has nothing to do with any of it. You got that?” I loosen my grip so he can answer.
“Take your god dammed hands off me Damien.” His arms slide up knocking my hand from around his neck.
“You need to leave now.” I let go of his neck and push him in the chest. “You’re trespassing, not to mention stalking.” I push him backwards again and it knocks him to the ground. “Get the hell out of here now.”
I turn away from him and stomp back towards where I was working. I begin to dial the numbers to home, just to let Dax know in case this dickfuck decides to show up there. I cannot believe he is trying to pull this. I push the first three digits when I’m slammed from behind. Aaron’s push knocks my cell phone from my hand, sending it flying into the mud. I turn, swinging my fist into him. I nail him so hard, he almost falls down upon impact.
“Leave me the fuck alone Aaron. I mean it already. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”
Aaron jumps up and knocks me square in the jaw. He stuns me. I almost lose my balance, but not so much that I don’t knock him down in a rebound punch. I turn to walk away again. I just want him to leave. I really don’t want to resort to this, but I will. He’s not giving me a choice in the matter.
A dull thud to the side of my head causes my ears to ring, and everything starts to blur. I realize that he just punched me, and I’m falling into the mud. My ears start ringing, little silver spots start zinging through my eyes and a hard, sharp pain blasts through me.
“Fuck you too Damien.” I hear Aaron’s voice through the searing pain in my head.
Everything goes dark
.
Chapter Twelve
Dinner’s almost done and ready for when Damien gets back. Tonight, it’s Italian night. On the menu we have a fresh tossed salad, with Balsamic Vinegar to start with. We’ll follow it with homemade beef and cheese manicotti. The manicotti is stuffed with ricotta and cottage cheese, onions, bell peppers, garlic, and ground beef. I smother it in a homemade sauce, topped with another layer of cheddar and Parmesan cheese, oregano and basil
. Last but not least, garlic bread, it’s browning in the oven now. The house smells amazingly like an upper scale Italian restaurant.
It’s incredible here, I love it. If someone would have asked me a month ago, where I’d be now, this would not have been one of my answers. I’m glad things are working out the way they are.
Never in a million years, could I have dreamed I would be attracted to someone so quick, especially not to a man. I’ve always had an open mind about most things and situations. My relationship with Damien is a marvelous one, we get along terrific, and I find him surprisingly sexy. Who knew!
The dinner table is set, but he’s still not home. Damien’s been gone for several hours, I’m starting to get concerned. I pick up the phone to call him; it rings four times, and then goes to his voicemail. Damien usually always answers his phone, no matter who is calling. He’s responsible for too many workers not too.
Another forty-five minutes has past and he’s still not home. In conversations with him, I know exactly where the site is located. I’m going to the job, because something isn’t sitting right. He would have answered, or called me if he was going to be this late. We’d never actually discussed what we would do if a situation like this ever came up, but I know he’d let me know something.
On the way to the job, I try to call him two more times, still nothing. Now I’m getting very worried. Once we get back to the house, we’ll have to exchange important numbers, just so we have them. I drive past the makeshift ramp. Shit!
My truck jumps the curb, to get to the ramp. A wave of relief sweeps over me when I spot his truck. I pull up behind him and kill the motor. With my finger, I brush through my hair, and spray a squirt of cologne on me before getting out.
It’s a real good thing I wore boots, everything is muddy. As I pass Damien’s truck, I notice how dim his headlights are. He’s damn near killed his battery. If his battery dies before he can get back with the keys, I’ll give him a jump with my cables. Not smart on his behalf, he knows better than this.
I continue taking longer strides to search for him. He’s nowhere to be seen. Off to the side of the work area, there is a small construction trailer, and two green port-a-potties, so I walk that direction.
The lock on the trailer is secure and it’s dark inside. I holler out for Damien, but get no answer. I check the portables and they’re both empty.
Shit, I have no idea where he could be? Maybe I didn’t go far enough down the actual site, it’s hard to see out here in the dark. I track back over, and walk a little further. The part of the road they are laying is a single lane that runs along the side of the freeway, where it would normally only be separated from the feeder road by a median, and it stretches about a two hundred feet.
I see the fresh footprints in the mud, so I follow them. Water is standing inside the new road. It looks to be about a foot deep. Straight ahead, I trace my line of vision, until I see something. I’m sure it’s just materials for the job, but I walk another ten feet, and see it.
“Damien, Damien! Oh fuck me, shit!” In a panic, I run to him, my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I can’t catch my breath.
Damien is lying on his back, near the dropdown. Oh God! Damien’s body is half submerged in the muddy water, his clothes are drenched. He’s not moving. Fuck! I grab him underneath his knees and behind his neck, raising him to the surface, and laying him flat on the muddy ground. I shred my shirt over my head and wad it up to place under his head.
“Damien, can you hear me? Damien!” I slap his face. Please!
Damien’s stomach rises and falls, thank God, he’s breathing. His pulse is thread, but it’s there. I need help for him, quick. Dammit, my cell is back in my truck.
“Damien, I have to get my phone, to call for help. I’ll be right back, I have to go to my truck.”
I sprint to my truck, just as Damien’s headlights die out. What the fuck happened to him? I slam my truck door open, and jump inside and start it. I snatch my cell, hit 9-1-1, and throw it in gear, pulling up closer to him. He’s still lying there, not moving. I dig around my toolbox, jerking out a towel.
After my call goes through, I give the best description of where we are, and ask for an ambulance and police. I run back to Damien, still on the phone with the emergency operator. She informs me that the units have been dispatched.
With the towel, I go to cover his chest and arms, but stop. He’s got blood all over him and his face is bruised. I reach around his head gently, until I find the source of the blood. His head is split open. I pull out my pocketknife and tear long strips off of the towel, and I wrap several layers around his head, tying it at his forehead. I lay the remainder of the towel down him long ways.
“Damien, can you hear me? Who did this, what happened?”
The sirens sounds are getting closer. I feel helpless. I’m not sure what to do now. I want to hold him close to me, but I know you’re not supposed to move someone in case they’re in internal damage. I already moved him from the water and lifted his head to wrap him.
“FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK!”
My pulse is racing, fear waves all through me. I’m fucking helpless right now, I can’t do anything, it’s out of my hands. My neck muscles tighten. My heart hammers in panic. Adrenaline surges, twisting into anger, then fear and frustration. The deep pounding of a bass drum vibrates in my ears, I think it’s my heartbeat. Not again, please not again! Images of my brother play out in my mind, like an old movie. This can’t be happening again. I should have been here. I could have stopped this, or I could have helped him. I never should have let him come alone. I wasn’t here for him, just like I wasn’t there for my own brother. How fucking stupid can I be? Pacing in circles, I run my fingers through my hair and squeeze the side of my head near my temples. God Dammit, please help him…please!
Red and blue lights highlight the night sky. I rush back to Damien, but trip and catch myself with my arms. I raise myself back up noticing the hunk of concrete that tripped me, lying behind me. It’s covered in wet, glossy red blood all over it. That has to be what he busted his head open on, but it doesn’t explain the bruise on his face. Someone must have hit him. There are two sets of fresh footprints here besides mine.
Think, think! I’m infuriated at the fucking bastard who did this. Damien is one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. Someone’s ass is mine, guaranteed!
The police show up first. I flag them down, waving them over to Damien.
”He’s here, right over here. He must have hit his head on the rock over there, it’s bloody, and there are footprints.”
“Are you the one who found him this way?” The officer pulls out his clipboard, while another officer checks on Damien.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What is your relationship to the victim?”
“I’m his, uh…roommate.” I break eye contact with the officer, looking towards Damien, then back to the officer again.
“What brought you out here, after dark, in a separate vehicle?” I put my hands on my hips, not really liking where he is taking this conversation at all.
He rattles off about ten thousand questions over the next few minutes. The paramedics pull up. They bring a gurney, loading Damien onto it.
“I’m going with him,” I demand.
“Sir, we still have some questions and paperwork to fill out first, then you can take your own vehicle to the hospital. It should only take about ten minutes.”
“Fine. I need a wrecker to tow his truck back to our house.” I point towards his truck, but continue watching them carry him away on the stretcher.
I finish answering the questions, and I’m very much aware that I’m a suspect, their only suspect at this point, but I don’t care. I just need to get to the hospital. I told the wrecker driver to just leave the keys in the floorboard of Damien’s truck.
I’ll find out who did this, there were only two people who knew where Damien was going. Ron and myself and I didn’t do it, so that leaves this dude Ron.<
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He’ll be seeing me real soon. Real fucking soon!
Chapter 13
Riverside General Hospital is only fifteen minutes from the site, so I haul ass to get there, to check on Damien. The parking is in the flat lot right in front of the entrance. I stomp my boots into the concrete to knock off the mud that covers them. With my hands ahead of me, I bust through the double doors to the front desk to find Damien. The nurse behind the counter informs me that he’s having tests and scans done. It’ll be at least two hours before he’s assigned a room, he’s still unconscious, but all of his vitals are stable at the moment.
I’m fucking livid pissed. I’m having a hard time calming down, and it’s not these peoples fault. Whoever hurt Damien has a damn death wish. I’m going home to take care of business. This Ron and I are about to have a ‘go to church’ meeting, Texan style.
I toss my keys in the basket and walk to the phone. Scrolling through the call history, I get the number. I push star sixty-seven to block my number and call it back.
“Hello.”
“Is Ron around?”
“Sorry, wrong number.” The man hung up.
My ass wrong number, really? I start pacing the floor. It’s the number that called our house, I know that’s the number, I took the call. And that’s his voice, it’s familiar to me. I light a smoke and stare at the phone. This is bull-fucking-shit. I know that was his voice, the voice that called. Why would he say it wasn’t? Our home number isn’t showing up, it’s coming from an unknown number. I write down the number.
After running upstairs to change out of the muddy clothes, my cell rings. It’s the nurse from the hospital, Damien is awake and in a room. I grab the paper with Ron’s number on it, shove it in my pocket and sprint downstairs.
The bike…I run out the garage door, and hop on my Hayabusa! And I haul ass to the hospital. I have to make sure he’s going to be okay. I haven’t been this scared since my brother.
The door to Damien’s room is cracked, so I push it open a little further. On the left wall, it’s full of shelves, a cabinet for hanging clothes, and a television rack up close to the ceiling. The bath is cadi-cornered between two walls, in the corner of the room. The other wall, on the right, is where Damien’s hospital bed is located, with a chair, and nightstand near. There are a bunch of hospital buttons and intercoms systems located behind his bed, and down the other side of the wall. Against the furthest wall, it’s taken up by a huge window with bench seats in the windowsill.