by Nora Phoenix
He hung up and immediately called Noah. As he had expected, as soon as Noah heard Charlie was hurt, he went from reluctant to completely welcoming. The guy couldn’t help it. Taking care of people was in his blood. It was how he was wired, much like Blake.
He sighed with relief after he’d hung up. Charlie was safe, Brad had a place to stay, and Noah would not be alone. Not bad for an hour’s work. Now all he needed was his puppy in his arms, and he’d be good. He reached for his phone again.
I’m so sorry, puppy. I should have protected you better. I miss you so much.
Noah heard the car pull up in the driveway and walked outside, Josh on his heels. Brad had pulled the backseat down, and the car was stuffed to the max with boxes and clothes, with a black lab sitting in between the boxes, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. In the front seat, Noah spotted a pale, slender guy, sitting with his eyes closed.
Brad got out as soon as he’d shut off the engine.
“Hey,” Noah greeted him.
“Hi. Thank you. For taking us in, I mean.”
Noah nodded. “You’re more than welcome.”
Brad opened the passenger door. “We’re here, honey.”
Noah kneeled as best as he could with his leg, so Charlie could see him.
“Hey, Charlie. I’m Noah, and this is Josh. You’re gonna be safe here, okay?”
Charlie nodded carefully, a wince passing over his face. Noah kept his face neutral, but his stomach lurched violently when he took in Charlie’s injuries. Somebody had done a number on him.
Charlie bravely tried to push himself up, but it seemed his arms wouldn’t hold his weight. “I’ve got you,” Brad said, stepping in. He unbuckled the seatbelt and gently turned Charlie sideways.
“Can you walk, or do you need help getting inside?” Brad asked. Noah loved that he didn’t assume but let Charlie make his own choices. It saved what little dignity Charlie probably had left.
“I need help.”
“Do you want me to carry you, honey?” Brad asked.
“Please.”
“I’ll get the dog out, if that’s okay,” Josh said.
“Yeah, please. His name is Max, and he’s a total sweetheart. He’d cuddle you to death if you let him,” Brad answered.
Josh smiled. “Good, ‘cause I love cuddles.”
Brad turned back to Charlie and simply plucked him off the seat, wrapped in the blanket, gently cradling him in his arms as Noah led the way inside. It was a good thing Charlie was a featherweight, because Brad shared his brother’s lean, toned build and wasn’t as strong as Noah himself, or Connor. If Charlie had been bigger, Brad might not have been able to hold him the way he did.
Noah would examine Charlie on the huge kitchen table, which Josh had covered with a couple of fluffy bath towels. A bed would have been more comfortable for Charlie but way less practical for Noah. This way, he had easier access. He’d put out some medical supplies and his stethoscope, wanting to be ready.
Brad lowered Charlie onto the kitchen table. The poor kid was shivering despite the blankets around him, probably from a combination of cold and stress, and he was clinging to Brad’s hand. Noah stepped into Charlie’s line of vision—well, as far as he could see with his eye swollen shut. “Hey, Charlie, are you okay with me checking you out?”
Charlie nodded hesitantly.
“I know you’re scared and hurting.” Noah’s voice was kind and warm. “I promise I’ll be careful with you, and this is between you and me, okay? No one else needs to see, unless you want them to.”
“Okay,” Charlie gave in.
“Do you want Brad to stay?” Noah asked.
“Please.” His voice was soft but definitive.
“Okay. Josh will stay out of the kitchen, okay?”
He put on some gloves while visually examining Charlie’s body. From what he could see, his face and torso had taken the most impact. He was a little waif, maybe a hundred-thirty pounds soaking wet. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against a bigger man. Fuck, what an asshole to take his anger out on a guy so much smaller. Noah pushed down the anger inside. That would not help Charlie right now.
The body he was examining was frail, but the mental state of the man inside the battered body was even more fragile. Charlie was retreating into his mind and while Noah understood, he needed him to be present to answer questions.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Charlie’s eye glazed over, his other too swollen to open. “I got beaten up,” he finally said.
“Yeah, you did,” Noah said. He’d affirm whatever truth Charlie said, hopefully empowering him enough to share the whole story. “Is it okay if I cut your shirt off to check your upper body?”
Maybe if he started easy, Charlie would trust him to see the rest as well. He reminded Noah a bit of Indy when he’d first come in, so distrusting and hurt, both on the outside and on the inside.
“Yeah.”
With the big kitchen scissors, Noah carefully cut off the pale pink shirt Charlie was wearing. His upper body was bruised, clearly, but at least there was no blood visible. Noah checked both his arms first, causing Brad to let go of Charlie’s hand. They showed some bruising, probably defensive wounds, but nothing seemed broken.
“Are you comfortable with me touching your chest and belly, Charlie?”
After a slight hesitation, he nodded.
Noah let his gloved fingers follow the collarbones first—not broken, thank fuck. That was always an easy one to break if you were slammed down the wrong way. He systematically checked his ribs, which were painful in some areas but not so much they seemed broken.
“I need to press on your belly a bit, okay? Wanna make sure everything inside is okay.”
Charlie didn’t respond, so Noah waited. As long as a patient was not critical, he’d value consent over anything else.
“Sweetie,” Brad said, his voice tender as if they were making out. He took Charlie’s hand again and kissed it with deep affection. Noah was seeing a whole new side of him. Noah had gotten to know him from when Blake had stayed with him and Josh, and Brad was usually quiet, somewhat surly even, but he was a sweetheart for Charlie. “You can do this. I’m right here.”
Thank fuck Charlie had someone he let in. He could not, should not go through this alone.
“You can touch me,” Charlie said to Noah, his face brave.
“Charlie, would it be okay if I took pictures throughout? That way, you still have evidence of what was done to you.” Noah kept his voice light.
“No.” Charlie’s answer was swift. “I don’t want to… No.”
“Sweetie, let him take pictures. You don’t need to decide now what you want to do with them. It’s just in case, okay? No pressure.”
Noah was grateful Brad had come to his help. He could understand why Charlie was reluctant in his current state, but he might regret it later.
“I’ll save them on my computer, and you can decide later what you want to do with them,” he added.
“Okay.” Charlie’s voice was a breath, barely audible.
“Thank you. You’re doing the smart thing,” Noah said. He got his phone from his pocket and snapped a few pictures of Charlie’s face and upper body. He put the phone down and gently palpated his abdomen to make sure it was soft. No internal bleeding as far as he could tell. He did have bruised ribs, from the looks of it.
“Were you hit or kicked in your belly at any point?” he asked, double-checking.
“No. My face, mostly. He slammed my head against the edge of the bed.”
It was the first detail he’d offered. Noah gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m gonna test your pupil reflexes, okay?”
He shone the light in his pupils, which showed normal reflexes.
“Track the light with your eyes only.”
Noah was satisfied with his reactions so far. There was no indication of major head trauma.
“Can I examine your head?”
“Yeah.”
Now they were getting to the hard part. “Charlie, I’m sorry I need to ask you this, but did he violate you?”
Charlie’s answer was swift. “No. But he did…” He swallowed. “Could you maybe check my balls?”
Noah nodded. “Sure. Did he hurt you there?”
“Yeah.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he turned toward Brad. “Distract me,” he said. “Tell me a sexy story.”
Brad’s eyes sought Noah’s, and he nodded. It wouldn’t bother him.
“I let this furry bear fuck me last night, and oh my God, it was amazing. We literally didn’t even say a word. He just fucked me raw, and then he left.”
Charlie’s giggle was carefree, and Noah loved hearing it. Brad looked at Noah while he was sharing some more details as if waiting for him to comment, but Noah had no intention of doing so. Anything that would help Charlie cope with this trauma was more than fine with him. Besides, why the fuck would he care how Brad got off? If it was consensual, it was all fine with him.
He cut off Charlie’s jeans and underwear, not wanting to hurt the man more by dragging them down his legs. A quick look in his underwear showed it was clean. Thank fuck. It looked like Charlie had been telling the truth, as there were no stains of either semen or blood.
“I’m gonna examine your penis and testicles now, okay?”
Charlie’s penis looked normal aside from one large scratch, but his balls were clearly bruised and tender to the touch.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Charlie, do you want to tell me what happened to your balls?”
Charlie sighed. “He likes to squeeze them when he fucks me. Today, he…” He stopped.
Brad leaned over and kissed him gently on his swollen lips. “Tell him, sweetie. Noah is an honest-to-God good guy.”
Whether Charlie was simply surrendering to the inevitability of sharing his story or whether Brad’s glowing appraisal of Noah had done the trick, Noah didn’t know, but the man finally started talking. Noah inconspicuously turned the camera on his phone on, letting it record what Charlie said.
“He came in early this morning from the night shift, grumpy as usual. I was still asleep. It’s Sunday, you know? Figured I could sleep in, since I’d done a show yesterday at Flirt and didn’t get home till five.”
“He does an awesome drag show,” Brad said.
“Cool,” Noah said, figuring his job was to be supportive of whatever was coming out of Charlie’s mouth.
“He woke me up, wanted me to suck him off. I didn’t really feel like it but figured it would be easier to go along. Once he’d come, he’d pass out, and I could go back to sleep as well. He’s always rough with blow jobs but this time even more so. He was stuffing me with his dick, and I was running out of air, and in panicking, I nicked him with my teeth. It was a scratch, not even bleeding, but he was furious and slapped me right across the cheek.”
He brought his hand up to his right cheek as if reliving the moment. Brad’s face flashed over with rage, but Noah watched him push it down. Good man.
“He’s hit me before, but this time I got mad for some reason. I was tired, and it felt so fucking unfair since I hadn’t done it on purpose, so I told him to stop. He wanted to hit me again, but I blocked him. Jiujitsu training, you know? God, he was so furious after that. I swear, I could see the red haze covering his eyes. He’s fucking tall and heavy, and he pinned me down on the bed, knocked my head around till I was bleeding and dizzy. I fought back, but he grabbed me by my balls, squeezed so hard I thought I was gonna throw up, then slammed the back of my head on the edge of the bed. He knocked me out cold, and when I came to, he was all apologetic, as usual. I waited till he fell asleep, and then I took a cab to Brad’s.”
His voice broke. “He beat the shit out of me. God damn him, he beat me unconscious.” A violent tremor tore through his body, and he clung to Brad’s hand as if it was his lifeline, preventing him from drowning. “Why would he do that?”
Brad must have been as tempted as Noah was to answer that question but he didn’t. As Charlie’s body trembled and shook, Brad merely held his hand, whispered sweet words of love and encouragement and was a shining example of what to do in a situation like this.
Noah turned the video mode off but took some pictures of Charlie’s balls, which were swollen and starting to turn blue. It was cumbersome because he had to keep taking gloves off and putting them back on afterward, but it was worth it. Plus, he wouldn’t ask Brad to take pictures. His job was to be there for Charlie, and he was doing a damn fine job of that.
“I fucking hate him,” Charlie said. “Fucking, egotistical, lying, cheating son of a bitch.”
He was moving into the anger phase, good. It beat the hell out of the closed-off Charlie who was locked into his own head.
Charlie’s testicles were bruised, but nothing was torn that Noah could see. If he’d been in the hospital, he probably would’ve done an ultrasound, but with someone merely squeezing his balls the chances of severe injuries weren’t that big. Still, Charlie would feel them for a while. Noah quickly checked Charlie’s legs, which seemed unharmed. All done. He took off his gloves and threw them in the trash.
“Okay,” he said. “Looks like you may have a minor concussion, a few bruised ribs, and bruised testicles. I recommend plenty of rest, especially napping. I can tape up your ribs so they’ll be supported. For your testicles the recommended course of action is cooling with an ice pack when they throb and wearing a jockstrap under your normal underwear, as this will support them better. You’ll be hitting the painkillers hard the next few days. You’d be better off with some prescription painkillers, but I can’t prescribe them, so you’d have to ask your family doctor.”
Charlie let out a relieved sigh. “That’s not too bad, right?’
“No. But Charlie, please keep in mind that I’ve only done a physical exam as far as possible. If we’d been in the ER, I would’ve ordered an ultrasound of your testicles and probably a head CT to rule out head trauma. Also, I’m not a doctor, you know that, right?”
“I know, and I understand, but I can’t go to the hospital. Zack would find out.”
“Hospital records are sealed,” Noah said kindly.
A look passed between Brad and Charlie. “Zack’s a cop,” Brad said, his voice ice cold. “He’s got a long reach.”
A cop had done this to his partner? Unbelievable. No wonder Charlie was so scared. “I understand. I just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks, Noah, for doing this. We really appreciate it,” Brad said.
“You’re welcome, though I’m so sorry for the circumstances. Know that you can stay as long as you need to, both of you. Josh has made up two guest bedrooms, so feel free to bring your stuff in, Brad.”
Brad nodded, but Charlie bit his already bruised lip. “Brad, would it be okay if I stay with you? In the same room, I mean? I don’t wanna be alone right now.”
Brad smiled, another one of those tender smiles that seemed to be reserved for Charlie. “I’d love that, sweetie.”
Fuck, Noah felt for the kid. “Do you want to take a shower?” he offered. “Brad could help you, and you could borrow some clean clothes from my…boyfriend, Indy. He’s closest to your size.”
Even mentioning Indy inspired a gulf of pain rolling through him, but he ignored it.
“God, yes. I feel so dirty,” Charlie said. “I wanna wash his stench off.”
Minutes later, Brad and Charlie had taken up residence in the biggest guest bedroom, and Noah heard the shower turn on. Poor Charlie, he thought while cleaning up the stuff he used in the kitchen. He couldn’t believe a cop had done this. Damn, that guy should be fired from his job immediately. Still, he could understand why Charlie would be hesitant to press charges. Cops were known to protect each other’s backs, even
against accusations like domestic abuse.
“How is he?” Josh asked, walking in from wherever he’d been staying during the examination, Brad’s dog on his heels.
“Bruised and battered, but it could be worse. I think he’ll be okay, but I’m keeping a close eye on him.”
Josh sighed. “Poor kid.”
Noah put the box of gloves back in the cabinet and checked to make sure he’d tidied up everything.
“Noah.”
He heard it in Josh’s voice. His name was spoken with so much love and pain at the same time, that he knew. “You’re leaving now.”
He slowly turned around and faced Josh, who looked at him with worry.
“Yeah. It’s time.”
“I know.”
Josh stepped closer, cupped Noah’s cheek with his right hand. “Do you know I never asked you for a promise in all these years?”
Noah processed that statement. Huh, Josh was right. He hadn’t.
“It’s because I know you’re a man who does what he says, so there’s no need for a formal promise. But I’m asking you for one now. I need you to promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I need to do this, for me and for us, but I can’t leave without knowing you’ll be okay. So promise me, Noah. Promise me you’ll be okay. Promise me you’ll take good care of yourself. Promise me that when I come back, you’ll be healthy.”
Noah’s throat was so constricted, even breathing hurt. Everything in him screamed to refuse. How could he promise he’d be okay when he wasn’t? He was dying inside. Losing Indy had left him in the dark, but losing Josh as well was like losing the very foundation under his feet. Yet he could not deny Josh this, not when he’d given so much and had asked for so little in return.
“I promise.”
Josh closed the distance between them, hugged him tighter than he ever had before. “You’ll be okay, Noah. We’ll be okay, I promise. Hang in there. Indy will come back to you, to us.”