Heart Unheard

by Andrew Grey

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Brent shouted, spinning back around.

  “Don’t get too close or I’ll toss him into this pit headfirst!”

  Brent looked back at the office, where Trevor was hanging up the phone. “The police are already on their way. Whatever you’ve got running through your head, it isn’t going to work.” He kept his voice as level and as calm as he could. “So what’s the deal?”

  “He ruined everything!” Marshall shouted, shaking Scott, who held Marshall’s arm from his throat. “He always did. First, he makes a pass at Spencer, who was supposed to be mine. He was supposed to love me! But instead, Spencer goes for the little queen here and then freaks out because someone might find out.” Marshall pulled Scott tighter against his body.

  “That’s no reason to hurt him. Just walk away, man. You aren’t in this too deep yet.” God, if he released Scott, Brent would let Marshall drive away for all he cared. The police could pick him up later, once he’d calmed down.

  “Bullshit! Spencer turned me in, the bastard. He ratted me out. Spencer said it would be all right, that no one would know that I borrowed his car. He’d never tell anyone, and he’d get his cousin to get the car fixed on the down-low. No one would ask any questions and everything would be fine!”

  Brent blinked and took a step closer. “You hit Scott?”

  “Yeah. I hit him. It was late and I saw his car. He pulled to a stop, and I figured I’d hit him, give him a scare. Maybe get him frightened enough he’d leave town. Put the fear of God in the little ass-rider. How in the fuck was I supposed to know that he’d go through the windshield and shit?” Marshall yanked upward, and Scott gasped, his breathing labored.

  Brent knew that he was only going to get one chance and that Scott was going to be hurt badly if he didn’t act. He saw Lee, standing where Marshall couldn’t see him, pick up some wrenches off a workbench. Brent’s stomach fluttered, and he wondered if he could do this. Did he have the fucking guts?

  Lee dropped the wrenches, the clang filling the garage. Marshall jumped and turned away. Brent didn’t hesitate. All he thought about was Scott. He leaped, grabbed Marshall’s arm, and wrenched it away from Scott, who fell to the ground.

  “You stupid son of a bitch!” Anger welled, and Brent’s fist connected with Marshall’s jaw, sending him back.

  Trevor barreled out of the office, tackled Marshall linebacker-style, and pulled him to the ground just before he would have fallen into the pit.

  “Get the hell off me!” Marshall screamed, thrashing as Trevor held him down.

  Brent hurried to Scott and helped him up.

  “I’m okay,” Scott gasped, rubbing his throat. “He didn’t hurt me too bad.”

  Sirens sounded, getting closer, as Brent led Scott into the office and got him seated. “Lee, you were amazing,” Brent called out, sticking his head around the corner. “That was brilliant.”

  “That was awesome, the way you came to my rescue,” Scott said.

  Brent got him a glass of water, and once Scott got a drink, he proceeded to check Scott over to make sure there were no other injuries. As soon as he was done, Brent tugged Scott into a hug and held him tight.

  “See, you aren’t a coward.” Scott held him in return as Trevor spoke to the police outside. Brent let Trevor do as much of the explaining as possible. After all, they had all heard what Marshall had confessed to. Not only had he hit Scott, but he’d done it on purpose. He’d known Scott’s car and hadn’t cared what happened to him. If it were possible, Brent would like to go back out there and beat the shit out of Marshall all over again.

  “Guys, the police want to talk to you,” Trevor said, sticking his head inside.

  Brent patted Scott on the shoulder. Stay here, he wrote on the blotter and went out.

  The police had Marshall in the back of one of the cars, and Brent explained what had happened. “The bastard was responsible for the accident that hurt Scott. It left him permanently deaf. He not only admitted to hitting him, but that he did it on purpose to scare him.” Brent was so angry, he could hardly see straight. The entire building seemed to have been painted red for a few seconds, and so help him, he’d tear anyone who countered him limb from limb. He closed his eyes to calm down. He needed to get it under control. They were okay and Marshall was in custody. Steady breathing.

  “We all heard him,” Trevor said, and the others nodded.

  “We need to speak with Scott,” an officer said.

  “He’s deaf, so you’ll need pad and pen.”

  “I’m able to sign,” the officer said.

  “Scott became deaf a few weeks ago, when Marshall hit him. We’re signed up for classes, but he doesn’t sign yet.”

  Brent went into the office and brought out Scott, who had an awkward conversation with the police explaining how Marshall had held him, where he knew him from, as well as filling in their past.

  “He’s a huge closet case of some sort,” Scott said. “He and I used to be friends some time ago.”

  “We’ll need you both to come down to the station and give statements so we can charge him officially. We’re also going to talk to everyone here as witnesses.”

  “Of course,” Trevor said. “Just let these people go back to their jobs. They have things they need to do. If they don’t work, they don’t get paid.” It might have sounded harsh, but every one of the mechanics got paid based on the jobs they finished, and if they stood around, they didn’t get paid.

  They returned to work, and Trevor said the police could use the office for interviews if they needed to. There were a lot of questions that Brent answered. The hardest part was when they talked to Lee and to Scott. They were both half lost, and Brent was grateful Scott couldn’t hear one officer’s tone, because he tried to make things sound like Scott had done something wrong.

  “Let me get one thing straight,” Brent said, stepping forward. “I have a shop full of witnesses who will testify that Scott was a victim. He did nothing to provoke this kind of hatred, and he was the one getting choked.”

  “We need to get to the truth,” the officer said harshly.

  “The truth is that you will back off. I’ll be in touch with your superiors, and this attitude will be noted in your record. My dad was a detective with Milwaukee PD. He taught me a lot about how the police should act, and treating a victim like a criminal isn’t on that list. You have a confession that can be corroborated by at least eight people. So I think you have an open-and-shut case. I suggest you go with that.”

  “But all this boils down to some homosexual love spat,” he sniped.

  “No, it does not. Marshall is a criminal and confessed to using his vehicle as a weapon. That’s assault with a deadly weapon. Anything else that happened was years ago, and I suggest you keep that in mind.”

  “Brent,” Trevor cautioned, and Brent stepped away, his temper flaring. “It’s all right. I’ve already called the chief, and he’ll be over in a few minutes.” Trevor grinned evilly, and the officer paled to a ghostly white. “I don’t know what personal agenda you have going on, but it will come to an end.”

  “How do you know the chief?” Brent asked.

  “James’s parents. I met him at one of their parties.” Trevor crossed his arms over his chest. “So now are we through here? Can I tell him there was a misunderstanding, or leave it alone and he’ll be on his way over?”

  “I think we’re good,” the second officer said, glaring at his partner. “We have what we need. Just come down to the station to review and sign your statements tomorrow morning, and we’ll be able to file charges against him, as well as the car’s owner for aiding and abetting.”

  “Thank you.” Trevor shook his hand. “I’ll call the chief to tell him he isn’t needed here.” Brent had no doubt that Trevor and the chief would be having a conversation about Officer Asshole in any event. Trevor wasn’t one to let this sort of thing go.

  Since the officers had all they needed, they left with Marshall in c
ustody.

  “I didn’t see that coming at all. I thought it was Spencer.” Scott sat down, and Brent sat next to him. Brent took the time to fill him in on everything that had been said, keeping the notepad where Scott could see it as he wrote. “You mean he did it on purpose?” Scott began shaking.

  That’s what he said, and we all heard him. Brent held Scott’s hand, knowing Scott had wondered if that was possible. They’d all discounted it and it had turned out to be real.

  “The idiot really tried to kill me?” Scott squeezed Brent’s hand.

  Brent shook his head. I don’t think so. He wrote quickly. I think he wanted to scare you so you’d leave town. He wanted you gone. I think in his mind you stole Spencer from him, because after you two were caught, Spencer backed away and went so deep in the closet that Marshall’s hopes were dashed as well. He hated you for that. It was convoluted logic to Brent, but it must have made sense to Marshall. The guy couldn’t be completely balanced if he was willing to use a car as a battering ram to hurt someone else.

  “So he’s in love with Spencer?” Scott asked, clearly confused.

  That’s what it sounded like, and he blames you for not getting what he wanted. The hatred has been festering for years. Brent let Scott read before continuing. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him.

  Scott shook his head. “You know Marshall is married. I always wondered why anyone would marry him, and now I know she must have been desperate. Either that or she wanted the prestige of marrying into his family. It can’t because Marshall is some great husband.” Scott rolled his eyes.

  Who knows. Brent shrugged and continued writing. He’s obviously living a lie, and they’re taking it out on you and I suspect on anyone else who might be different. They’re all so afraid of themselves that they can’t tolerate anyone who might remind them of what they’re hiding. Brent paused before writing his last thought. You must have been a regular reminder for that resentment to have lasted so long. He set the page down and pulled Scott to him. Brent needed to hold Scott as much as he needed to be held in return. Marshall having Scott in his arms that way, threatening him, had scared the crap out of him, but it had also helped him see some things clearly. But now wasn’t the time to talk about them.

  “I think I need to go back to work,” Scott said softly. “I can sit here all day and run things over in my head, or I can try to be productive.” He didn’t make any move to pull away, and Brent stayed where he was, perfectly content. Brent wasn’t able to tell Scott what he wanted at the moment. That would require letting Scott go, and he had no intention of doing that. Eventually Scott stepped away, and Brent let his arms settle at his sides.

  Scott went up on his tiptoes to kiss him, then left the office. “I’ll see you after work and we can talk,” he said with a grin and a wink when he poked his head back into the office. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

  Brent wondered if he should call Scott’s parents, because maybe that whole ordeal had fried Scott’s brains. He should be very worried, but given everything Scott had been through in the past few weeks, he was beginning to think that Scott had a set of brass balls, which was attractive as hell.

  Brent sat at his desk, trying to do something other than fret about the past few hours. He still had a little work to do, and while tension and residual excitement still electrified the air, the guys were getting back to work and Brent needed to do the same.

  But he couldn’t. Over the last six weeks or so, he’d come damn close to losing Scott twice, and both times it had felt like his heart had stopped and was never going to restart again. Forget about CPR—that kind of damage was going to be permanent. The simple fact was that he was in love, completely and totally, head over heels, put-himself-in-danger in love with Scott. Just the thought of it was enough to make him smile after one of the shittiest days he’d ever had. Now Brent had to figure out what the hell he was going to do about it. He’d whispered “I love you” to Scott, but a hell of a lot of good that had done. Scott couldn’t hear him, and words completely fell short. Brent had no intention of writing that he loved Scott on a piece of scrap paper and placing it in front of him, the way he did when he gave him special instructions on engine work to be completed. He rolled his eyes at the very notion. No, he needed to come up with something that truly expressed how he was feeling and what he really wanted to say.

  “Where are you?” Trevor asked from behind him. Brent hadn’t even noticed him come into the office, he was so deep in his own thoughts.

  “Sorry.” Brent colored and turned to the papers on his desk. He wasn’t being paid to woolgather.

  “You were long gone. Was it the attack?” Trevor closed the door to the office.

  “No.” Brent had always been able to talk to Trevor about just about anything. There was no need to hold back now. “I need to figure out a way to tell Scott something very important.” He scratched his head. “In this case actions speak louder than words, and I need to figure out what I want to do.”

  Trevor patted him on the shoulder, grinning. “I know.”

  “How?”

  “Because you’re right. Actions do speak louder than words. And you said plenty this afternoon, whether you know it or not.” Trevor’s smile was summer-sun bright.

  Chapter 8

  DAMN IT all. He’d wanted to go back to Brent’s after work, but as soon as he told his mom and dad what had happened, they had swooped in and insisted he come home. Not that he could blame them. They were freaked and had their legs knocked out from under them by the fact that someone they knew from church could act like this.

  “Mom, I’m fine,” Scott told her for the eighth time. “Marshall didn’t stand a chance. Not against Brent and all the guys at the garage.” He smiled as best he could from where he sat on the sofa, leaning forward to take her hand while his dad fidgeted nervously in the other chair.

  We don’t understand how you can be so calm, his father said in a note.

  “Because. See, you weren’t there. Yes, I was scared, but I kept calm, and Brent looked like a man possessed. I don’t know everything that happened, but you should have seen Brent! Marshall had me around the neck, and when he turned, Brent sailed across the floor—I thought he’d sprouted wings. Marshall loosened his grip, and I fell to the floor. Brent took it from there. It was beautiful. Then Trevor got him and held him down until the police got there.” He grinned widely. “It was totally awesome. Well, not the being held and choked part, but that way they stood up for me.”

  We’re just worried, his dad said in another note, and his mother’s hands shook in his.

  “Maybe. But it’s over. Marshall isn’t going anywhere, and even if his folks bail him out….” Scott really didn’t want to think about that. “This whole thing started because of Marshall. He’s… well, the guy is pretty messed up in the head. The one I feel sorry for is his wife. Darlene deserves so much better than him and the mess he created.” He shook his head. “I really wish I could help her.”

  His mother turned to his dad, and the two of them had a conversation that Scott didn’t catch, which really pissed him off.

  “I am in the room, and it’s rude to talk around me.” He released his mother’s soft hands and leaned back. “You’ve been doing that a lot and you think I don’t see it, but I do. If you’re going to talk about me, then do so in a way I can understand.” He stood and walked to the opening to the kitchen. “I’m going to get a snack. You talk all you want. At least I won’t be able to fucking see you.” He stalked out. One thing was for sure—not being able to hear meant he got the last word.

  Well, at least until his father stormed in under a head of steam. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Scott.

  “I can’t hear you….” Scott knew he was being a shit, but he needed to make a point. He turned away and pulled a bowl of strawberries out of the refrigerator, sat at the table, and popped one into his mouth.

  You will not talk like that to us, his dad wrote,
shaking the page for emphasis.

  “Then don’t act like I’m not in the room when I am.” He continued eating until his dad put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s hurtful, Dad.” Scott waited for the touch to grow stronger, but it gentled. “I know you’re worried, but how about trying to worry about the things I’m worried about? I was scared about the accident and what happened, but now I know. Marshall actually hit me on purpose. I can either freak out about that—and I probably will eventually—or I can be relieved because I know what happened. I’m not in the dark. I have some answers.” He turned around. “And I found out something else.” Scott pulled out the chair next to him, and his dad sat down. “I learned today that Brent loves me. I mean, really loves me.”

  “How?” his dad asked.

  “You should have seen his face. When Marshall had me, the look in Brent’s eyes—it was pain combined with determination. He flew at him and took him out like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Then as soon as he was under control, all that mattered was me. He was right there.” Scott blushed. “Brent made sure I was okay, held me, protected me from the police when one of them started giving me grief. He was like a lion, Dad. No, that’s not it. He was protective, like someone taking a bullet for someone else. Do you know what I mean?” He was having a hard time finding the words. “Brent was willing to put himself in danger, in the line of fire, for me.”

  His dad nodded and grabbed a piece of scrap paper. I’d do that for both you and your mother.

  “I know you would.” Scott handed his dad a strawberry. “You always have. See, that’s how I understand love. From watching you and Mom. I know when you care for someone because of the way you treat each other, and now I think I’ve found someone who will love me the way you love each other.” Scott swallowed. “I know Brent was there at the hospital and that he’s been there for me these last few weeks, but I kept expecting him to back away. That me not being able to hear was going to turn out to be too much. But I don’t think that’s true…. At least, I don’t think he’s going to let me being deaf stop him from loving me.”