Saving Him

by Drea Roman

  He shakes his blond head slowly, “No, it has been more than 48 hours since he hit me over the head. So, I should be fine.”

  David and I both suck in shocked breaths. David clears his throat and pauses as if thinking about how to word his next question. “How long were you tied up?”

  He ducks his head again and stares at our joined hands in his lap. “Well, if it’s Saturday night, then three days. I don’t recall anything after he hit me in the back of the head with something. I only know that because I have a knot and a headache. I think my ribs are definitely sprained, maybe broken. My neck hurt as does my throat. I saw bruises on my neck, so he must have tried to choke me. But,” he looks at me now, not David, as if telling me the pain of his ordeal, “I don’t remember him beating me or strangling me, just the pain in my head and darkness. I woke up tonight, with my wrists tied to an old cot and my throat sore. I was disoriented. It took so long to make it out of the house, Roger.”

  It is the first time he has said my name, and I hear the panic rising in his voice and see it sparking to life in his eyes and his body, which is now tense, his fingers squeezing mine impossibly tighter.

  “I didn’t think I would make it out,” his voice sounds strangled now and is rising in pitch with each horrifying revelation. “My car was no longer in the driveway when I finally made it out the door. So I just started walking. My wallet, my cell phone, and my keys were gone from my pocket. My head was pounding so hard I couldn’t even think. It was already dark, and then the rain started. I don’t know how I ended up in front of your steps. I tripped in the street, on a broken sandbag, I guess, because suddenly I was falling to my knees and wallowing in the mud.”

  Without a thought to my actions, I grab his quaking shoulders and pull him into my chest, my arms gripping around him tightly. “Shush, it’s okay. You’re safe now. He can’t find you here.” I feel hot tears against my neck and I want to cry, too. I have completely forgotten David’s presence until he clears his throat.

  “If you were out for three days, then the injury was pretty severe. We really do need to have a doctor check you out.”

  His much smaller body stiffens in my hold, but I rub a hand up and down his back. Raising my head to look into David’s eyes, I shake it slightly.

  “But,” David continues, a disgruntled look settling over his handsome face, “in the end, it is up to you. I strongly advise against waiting.”

  While I agree with every word out of his mouth, I give him a hard frown and shake my head again. If this hurt young man doesn’t want to go anywhere, then he is not going anywhere. I will make sure of that.

  David sighs. “Roger, you know how much I hate to be the voice of reason.”

  I can’t help but grin at that. It is his way of admitting defeat.

  “I’ll take him somewhere to get checked out tomorrow. I think it is the best we can do.”

  David arches a brow at my use of we. “Okay, I guess it is the best we can do.”

  There is sniffling from the crook of my neck and arms cling more tightly to me for a moment. Then he pulls back, a faint blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

  “Um, thank you, Roger.”

  “You’re welcome.” I still have a hold of one of his hands, and I don’t let it go. “I would be happy to have you stay here with me tonight. I have this couch and an extra bedroom. You probably shouldn't go home tonight in case your ex looks for you there. Do you have any place else you can go? I would be happy to have you stay here.”

  He cuts me off quickly, another blush flushing his neck and cheekbones. “Um, if it is okay with you, I’ll take you up on that offer.” His voice drops to a barely audible whisper. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  I nod, satisfaction rumbling through my chest. I can see David out of the corner of my eye, and the look on his face is assessing and just a little bit amused. Leave it to David to be an asshole at a time like this. Standing from the couch, I use our intertwined hands to pull my still as-yet-unnamed guest to his feet.

  “Would you like to take that shower now?”

  He nods, then releases my hand and walks slowly toward the bathroom door. When he is near David, he pauses for a moment and says “Thank you, Detective Derricks. I promise I will see you in the morning.” He shrugs. “But tonight, I just can’t. I hope you understand.”

  David nods solemnly. “Of course. But one more thing, let Roger bag up your clothes. They may be needed as evidence later.”

  He nods and walks into my bathroom, closing the door quietly behind himself.

  David and I stand in silence for a moment, watching the closed bathroom door.

  “Weeell,” David drawls out, reaching his left hand up to run through his barely silvered brown hair. “That was...”

  “Strange?” I offer.

  David cocks his head to the side. “To say the least.”

  He pauses again, pursing his lips as if trying to find the best way to frame his next thought. I sigh wearily and shake my head at my friend. “Just spit it out, David.”

  Opening his mouth, he closes it again, then looks at me with a scrutinizing gaze.

  “Shut up, David.” I roll my eyes at him and turn to walk back into my kitchen. It's a mess, and I don’t want to leave it dirty much longer.

  “Hey,” he says, laughing lightly, “you told me to spit it out. Now you don’t want my opinion on your new friend?”

  He quirks his eyebrows at me as I retrieve my mop from the broom closet next to the pantry. Stepping out of my way, he leans against the counter after slipping his notebook and pen back into his pocket, watching me work in silence. When I am finished and the floor looks presentable, I wash my hands, then fill up my tea kettle and set it on the stove to heat. Busying myself with making tea with my back turned away from him, I don’t have to look at David or explain myself. Hell, I can’t even explain myself to me. How could I even begin to say why I just took in a complete stranger, even though he is clearly in need of the help I can so easily provide, a shower and a warm bed for the night, a safe space in what has to be his shattered world?

  I pull tea cups and saucers down from my cabinets, choosing the light blue ones with tulips because it is spring, and set them down on the counter. Loose leaf jasmine tea leaves fill the infusers, then I have nothing left to do to avoid talking to David. I turn around to face my friend, hoping he doesn’t have some lecture for me, not that David is really the type for that.

  “Relax, Roger. He needs to stay somewhere, and if you are comfortable with hosting him, then I see no reason to disagree.” He smiles, the usual David smirk growing across his mouth, “It’s not like either one of us can make him go to the hospital or even report that attack for that matter. He is a grown man after all.”

  He pauses, his look turning pensive. “It is probably a good thing, though. I know you will encourage him to seek medical attention for his injuries and even to press charges. I’ll leave the first aid kit here in case you need it later. Without someone to gently push, I don’t know if he wouldn’t just disappear, maybe even back into the arms of his abusive ex.”

  I frown and shake my head. “I don’t think that would happen.”

  David sighs. “I’ve seen it happen more times than I would like to say.” With that little nugget of encouragement, David pushes himself off the counter and stretches his arms above his head. Shaking his shoulders to settle them, David focuses his dark blue gaze intensely on my face. When he just contemplates me as if expecting some explanation that will make how protective I have grown over the young man make sense, I shake my head.

  My tea kettle sings out, saving me from an awkward stare-down which could have lasted for an hour. I busy myself with pouring the hot water over the infuser in my cup and steep it for a minute before pulling the metal ball out and setting it on the edge of my saucer. With my cup in my hand, I turn back to David to find him still watching me with those all too perceptive eyes. I shrug my shoulders because really, what is there
to say? For God knows what reason, I’ve decided to take this young man in. If I can’t explain it to myself, then I’m sure as hell not going to be able to explain it to David.

  I walk over to lean against the counter next to him, sipping my tea. We don’t speak for a few minutes and the sound of the shower is loud in the silence.

  When he does speak again, David’s tone is solemn, and he lowers the volume of his voice, clearly not wanting to be overheard.

  “His reactions could mean more than just a beating.”

  I take a sip of my tea and nod. “I know.”

  “Are you really cool with taking this on, Roger? I’ve never seen you as the nursemaid type.”

  Turning to face him, I smile wryly and wink at him. “There is a lot you never wanted to know about me, David.”

  David stiffen and glares, but I laugh softly and pat him on the shoulder as I set my tea cup down on the counter, hoping to show him I have no regrets or grudges on that account.

  “No worries, David. I got this.”

  When he raises his eyebrow at me, a knowing smirk across his lips, I can’t help chuckling, but I address his unasked question nonetheless. But only in the manner most befitting our friendship.

  “Don’t be an asshole, David.”

  “Too late,” he quips back, smilingly ruefully.

  “Shut up. I’m not going to take advantage of him. I just want to help. And we can both tell he needs a lot of help right now.”

  “And,” David rumbles, his deep voice almost sinister sounding, though his words are accurate, “he has clearly warmed to you.”

  Sighing, he pushes himself away from my counter, seeming to understand that he is not going to get any more of an explanation out of me than he already has. He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and throws it on. “No matter, it’s late and unlike you artists, I don’t set my own hours.”

  Flipping him the bird, I shake my head at his tease and follow him to the door. He pauses before leaving, turning toward me to look past my shoulder at the bathroom door a moment before settling his dark blue eyes on me.

  “Just be careful, Roger. All signs point to him being on the level, but still, be careful.”

  “Aww, I knew you liked me.” Nodding in acknowledgment of his warning, I add, “Yeah, thanks. I’ll call to give you a heads up if he changes his mind and we go to the hospital tonight.”

  Nodding back, David pulls his leather jacket up over his head and dashes down the stairs. I pause a moment, thinking about every other time he has left me in the middle of the night and the lingering concern for his well-being that followed in his wake. But this time, I’m not worried about David. All thoughts are of the young man currently using my shower. I shut the door, locking it firmly before I turn back to the kitchen to make my new guest a cup of tea.

  Chapter 3

  He looks so small and frail when he walks out of the bathroom in my old pj bottoms and dark gray t-shirt. Fear radiates off him as he glances around, his arms pulled tight around himself. His blond hair looks freshly washed and the natural curl is springing it up at the ends around his ears. When he finally looks at me, he seems to relax and a tentative smile wavers on his lips, one of which looks injured.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I say as I gesture toward my couch. “There is an afghan on the couch if you need to warm up. I’m making some tea.”

  Nodding, he shuffles over around the loveseat and coffee table to settle himself on the couch. He pulls my grandmother’s gigantic colorful knit afghan around his shoulders and across his lap, grasping the edges tightly. He is staring blankly at his bare feet on my soft carpeting. A moment passes before he rearranges himself so that his back is against one arm, his legs stretch out across the cushions.

  I don’t want to disturb him, but I still have no idea what to call him.

  “Would you mind telling me your name?”

  Even though I am across the wide room from him, I can see that he blushes crimson under the bruises on his face. My hands clench involuntarily, because I want to kill whomever tried to mar the beauty of this man and kill his obviously gentle spirit. He scrubs a hand over his face and closes his eyes a moment, drawing my attention to the slight swelling around the right one. The shiner is fading, leaving behind an ugly blue and green bruise. Flipping open his eyes, his gaze locks intensely with mine, but his voice is soft when he speaks.

  “Tyler. My name is Tyler Henderson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tyler.”

  He finally turns his face toward me and my heart skips a beat.

  A soft smile curls the left corner of his mouth and I feel the first tendril of desire thread through me. Wholly inappropriate, but I would be lying if I told myself that it was unwelcome. Since nothing may ever come of it anyway and certainly nothing is coming of it tonight, I let the feeling just sit there, not encouraging it to grow or go away. No, I’m going to let it sit there awhile. Like Scarlet O’Hara, I will think about it tomorrow.

  His smile fades and his eyes become unfocused as if he is thinking about some other time or place. I am concerned at how quickly he seems to have phased out.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance.” I try for a warm tone, but he blinks at me seemingly startled before he appears to recognize me. “As you may recall from our previous conversation,” I continue smiling brightly, “I am ‘Roger Not the Rabbit’ Montgomery.”

  Tyler nods and blinks at me again. I’m concerned at how spacey he has become, and I make a note to look up concussion symptoms before I go to sleep. Considering he was knocked out cold for three days, his injury must have been pretty severe.

  “How do you feel?” I ask as the tea kettle sings, drawing my attention away from him for a moment.

  “I do have to admit to a headache,” he responds as his hand rises to feel the back of his head. He hisses in pain when his finger connect with must be a sizeable lump. He meets my gaze again and drops his hand into his lap. “I guess I didn’t notice in the shower. Everything hurts so much.” His voice trails off and he drops his gaze to his lap again where his hands clench together tightly.

  Since I want to distract him from his immediate pain and learn a little bit more about the mysterious stranger I found out in the rain, I clear my throat to get his attention. His head zooms up and he grimaces, his head obviously complaining about the sudden movement.

  I lean against the kitchen island that separates it from the living room. Though I want to go join him on the couch, until the water for the tea is ready, I don’t have a good excuse.

  “I’m a tattoo artist,” I say, grasping at the first thing which comes to mind to break the ice. “My shop is downstairs. The whole building is mine.”

  Tyler smiles faintly and nods his head slightly. He swallows hard, then raises his right hand to touch his throat. It must be sore. I hope the water heats soon so I can bring him a cup of tea to soothe the pain. Right on cue, the kettle whistles so I turn back to my stove to prepare him a cup. With a cup and saucer from my favorite floral-patterned set already on the counter, I quickly pour the steaming water in. I am surprised to hear his clear tenor voice as I spoon my favorite jasmine tea into an infuser. Turning around, I bring the cup and saucer to the island, then drop the infuser in.

  “I’m a travel journalist. I have a travel blog specializing in gay friendly vacation spots. It is better than being strictly freelance because I can get ad revenue from hotels and resorts that want to advertise with me. I’ve built up a nice following. Plus, I have a regular column in Vacations Magazine.” His voice drops off, and he seems nervous that he just told me anything important about himself.

  I smile again, hoping to put him at ease. “That sounds exciting and fun. I don’t think I’ve had a vacation in at least five years.”

  He surprises me by asking a question in his soft voice. “Where was that?”

  “I took a tour of some of the nearby state parks, including Sugarloaf Ridge and Mount Diablo.”

  Tyler nods and g
ives me a small smile then. “I like backpacking, but most of the time I’m asked to review resorts, clubs, and other tourist destinations that cater to LGBT folks. There are a lot more now than there were even five years ago.”

  Nodding, I reply, “Maybe I should read your column. Sounds like there are quite a few places.”

  He blushes and mumbles, “The blog would be a better bet for newer reviews. I update that weekly. The magazine column only comes out once a month.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I rejoin as I jingle the chain on the infuser, wishing it would steep faster. I’m surprised at how easy he seems to be with me, now that David has left and he has had a shower. I wonder if he has disassociated somehow, that the quiet, reserved, but ultimately friendly young man sitting on my couch right now is a mask of his regular self, a mask he has pulled on to protect himself from further harm. For tonight, I decide not to pry. The amount of trust he has shown me is overwhelming, and I don’t want to do anything to betray it. It seems to me that asking him if he is okay, at this precise moment, would be the wrong question to ask. It would shatter what little calm he has managed to pull around himself like a warm comforting blanket. Taking a deep breath, I slip my eyes closed for a moment, trying to picture Lake Temescal at sunset. But the meditation technique does not seem to be working. When I pop my eyes open a moment later, Tyler is looking at me curiously.

  I smile. “Meditation. It’s good for the soul.”

  Tyler nods, “So I have heard.” He pauses, his gaze falling to the folded hands in his lap. “Maybe you can teach me about it someday.”

  “I would be honored,” I declare, meaning that with all sincerity.

  Tyler looks at me through his eyelashes, out of the corner of his eye. The glance seems shy and possibly even frightened. I break my earlier resolve as I ask quietly, “Are you okay?”

  A harsh laugh tumbles out of his and he shakes his head hard. He seems overcome with emotions, but he blinks hard and after a few moments, has successfully fought back the tears.