Reclaiming Love

by Vicki McElfresh

  "I wanted to do this the easy way, but you always had to take the hard road."

  "Please don't do this.” He was begging again, but Josh liked to hear him beg. “Please, just let me go."

  Josh shook his head and moved close. The barrel of the gun touched his cheek then slid across to his lips. “Open your mouth."

  Kevin shook his head.

  Josh slammed a fist into his jaw, and he staggered under the blow. The gun barrel returned to his mouth.

  "Open your mouth."

  He obeyed this time, and the barrel slid inside.

  "Did you suck him? You always could do a marvelous blowjob, even if you refused to swallow the cum."

  The barrel slid out of his mouth and back in, changing position slightly.

  "I could pull the trigger. The cops would think it was a suicide. That would be a fitting ending for you. Poor, troubled Kevin. Everyone would believe that, wouldn't they? Even fucking Devon Lancaster would believe that. Perfect Devon, always ready to swoop in and rescue you. He's not here, Kevin, and neither is your new man. You can't run and hide now."

  A tear streaked down Kevin's face.

  "Did you truly think I would stay in jail, Kevin? I was out last night. My lawyer made sure of that. You sent your lover after Chinese food. I followed him, just like I followed you here.” The gun left his mouth.

  Another sort of fear closed around him. He remembered the shadowed figure beneath Connor's window. “Don't hurt him. Do what you want to me, but please don't hurt him.” He cried. Cried because he knew he wouldn't leave the apartment without being hurt. And when he was brutally honest, he doubted he would leave the apartment at all. He hadn't gotten to tell Connor those three words. He wanted to say the words, and now he he'd never get the chance. That hurt. That hurt more than knowing Josh was going to use him and hurt him, probably kill him, and then walk away, just like last time.

  The smile Josh gave him was cruel and dark. “Take off your shirt."

  Kevin fought to keep from bursting into hysterical tears as he pulled the sweater over his head. He trembled so hard he could barely stay upright.

  Josh took the shirt from him and tossed it aside. Kevin risked a glance up, and Josh slapped him. “You don't look at me, slave. You know better. Eyes down."

  Something heavy landed in front of Kevin, but he was afraid to look at it.

  "Put that on. You belong to me. Wear the symbol of my ownership."

  He reached for the object Josh and thrown at him, recognizing it as a collar. The same kind of collar he'd sent to Connor. He buckled it around his neck, breath hitching as he fought for air.

  "Tighter. Tight enough that you remember that I am responsible for your every breath."

  Kevin pulled the buckle tighter, until the collar pressed uncomfortably against his throat. He swallowed hard and prayed silently, tensing when the gun touched his cheek.

  "Now the pants. I want them around your ankles."

  He couldn't keep the tears at bay. He sobbed as he unfastened his pants and squirmed until they were around his ankles. “Please, God,” he prayed, daring to move his lips. “Don't let this happen. Please let the cops show up soon."

  Josh's hands touched his back and slid around to yank on the nipple rings. A cry escaped Kevin's lips at the sharp pain. “You put these back in. I'm glad.” Josh's lips caressed the back of his neck, and Kevin shivered from pure fear, not desire.

  Josh's hand closed around his flaccid cock. “What's the matter, Kevin? Aren't you enjoying my game? You were enjoying it earlier. Was he inside you? Did he fuck you?"

  He heard the sound of a zipper opening.

  "Get on all fours like the dog you are."

  The gun pressed against his temple, and Kevin obeyed. If he gave Josh this, perhaps he would leave and forget him, but Kevin knew that wouldn't happen, not unless one or both of them were dead.

  "Please, Josh. Please,” he begged around his sobs. “Don't do this. Haven't you hurt me enough? You don't have to do this."

  Josh pulled his hair hard enough to draw a yelp and punched his side hard enough to knock the wind from Kevin's lungs. “No. You are mine, Kevin. Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

  "No.” Maybe if he could keep Josh talking a little longer, someone would call, someone would show up and rescue him.

  "First, I'm going to fuck your sweet, little ass."

  Kevin sobbed a little harder.

  "Stop crying, Kevin. You're such a pansy."

  Kevin grasped at anything, anything to keep that from happening. “I'll suck you. I'll even swallow, but please—"

  The hand pulled his hair again, forcing his head back. “No, Kevin. I'm going to fuck you, and then I'll ask you to come home with me, and if you refuse—"

  "I'm not going back. I'm not going with you. I won't live that way again."

  "Then you leave me no choice.” The gun touched his cheek again, and Josh's other hand grabbed his hip. He could feel the solid heat of Josh's arousal against his back. “After I fuck you, I'll kill you. And when they find you, you'll have my collar on, my come in your ass, and they'll know that you belong to me."

  Kevin's arms gave out. He thought of all the things he'd never get to do. He'd never get to tell Connor that he loved him. He wasn't going to get to see Connor's face when he read the story Kevin had written for him. He wasn't going to get to build a life with his golden god. He'd never dance again. He wouldn't get to see Nicki's wedding. The thoughts tumbled through his mind.

  When Josh's hands touched his hips, something snapped inside him. “No!” He wrenched away from his tormentor, stumbling because of the pants around his ankles. He got to his feet and yanked the pants up so he could move. He didn't bother to fasten them. “You aren't doing this to me!"

  Josh raised the gun when Kevin rushed toward him. He was going to get hurt. He knew he was going to get hurt, but if he was going to die, the last touch he was going to remember was Connor's. He tackled Josh, and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs. The gun skidded across the floor. Josh's nose crunched from the one good punch he landed before Josh had him pinned.

  "Bad move, Kevin.” A fist crashed into his face once, and then a second time. Kevin tasted blood. He struggled, but Josh was bigger and heavier. He had both of Kevin's wrists pinned above him, and he sat across his hips. “Bad move.” Josh backhanded him. Blood trickled down Kevin's chin.

  "You aren't going to rape me again."

  Another slap, hard enough Kevin was certain something snapped in his jaw.

  "I never raped you.” Josh bent down and pressed his lips to Kevin's, forcing his tongue inside.

  Kevin gagged on the foul taste of old whiskey and cigarettes.

  "You still taste as sweet as I remember.” He forced his tongue inside Kevin's mouth again, and this time, Kevin bit down, tasting the bitter tang of blood. Josh pulled back, grabbing his injured tongue.

  Kevin squirmed from beneath him, scrambled to his feet, and ran. He almost got to the door. “If I can't have you, bitch, then no one will.” He heard the shot, but the only thing that really registered was the pain. It crawled over him, engulfing him in its noiseless song. He collapsed to his knees and pulled himself together just enough pull his phone from his pocket. He didn't know whether his first call had gone through or not, so he tried again, dialing the first number he thought of, one he hoped would get help to him. God couldn't be so cruel to end everything when he'd just found something to live for.

  "Babcock."

  The voice registered through the pain. “Kevin...” He gasped. “Stohler."

  "No!” Josh shouted

  Another shot. Something slammed into his arm.

  "You're mine, slut."

  Kevin was beyond the pain now. Flying. He didn't like this place, this world where he couldn't move and could barely speak. All he could do was think.

  "Where are you? Kevin?"

  His vision went dark. “Home.” He thought he spoke. He hoped word came out of his mouth. The
phone fell out of his hand. He was still aware of things around him. He heard another gunshot. He prayed that the cops would find him soon. He prayed he would get the chance to spend the rest of his life with his golden god. He prayed that everything would work out for the best. He wasn't quite sure where he'd been shot, somewhere in the chest, maybe in the arm....

  There was no pain now. He was fading, falling into a darkness he knew he would never escape. There was no comforting light, no lost loved ones to greet him. Only cold, empty darkness. He'd always hoped he'd get to see his dad when he died, but he wouldn't. He knew that now. The last thought he had before the darkness claimed him was so trivial he would have laughed if he'd been able. The Baptists had been right, and he'd been wrong after all. God really did hate queers.

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  Chapter Eighteen

  Connor knew something was wrong as soon as he woke up. The note beside him seemed innocent enough, but something was terribly wrong. It was that extra sense. Right now his entire body tingled with it. He slid out of bed and grabbed the first clothing he found. He'd just started to reach for the phone when it rang.

  "Hello?” A shiver coursed down his back.

  "Connor, this is Karen Babcock.” Connor's blood ran cold, and he swallowed hard. He sat down before his legs gave way.

  "What happened?"

  "I'm not going to tell you on the phone. I'll be there in five minutes. Be ready to go when I get there.” She hung up, and he just sat, staring at the chair where Kevin had been sitting a few hours earlier. His laptop was still on the coffee table, and beside it was an envelope from Nicki.

  He opened it and bit back tears. She had reserved a room for them at the Chase Park Hotel. She'd asked the concierge to make certain champagne waited for them when they arrived. He choked back a sob and covered his face with his hands. He'd lost Kevin. That's what Karen was going to tell him. By the time he heard the knock on the door, he was crying.

  Karen grabbed his arm as soon as he opened the door. He had just enough time to shut and lock it behind him before she ushered him down the stairs.

  "Get in the car."

  He followed orders like an obedient dog and sat in the passenger's seat, unable to stop his tears.

  "He's still alive,” Karen said as soon as she was inside. “Barely, but alive. Harding shot him."

  Connor couldn't speak. He'd lost all ability to form words.

  "Kevin will be in surgery by the time we get to the hospital. He put up a fight this time."

  "You can do something now?"

  Karen laughed, and he glared at her, not quite believing she would make light of something like this. “Don't glare at me. If Kevin survives, he won't have to worry about Harding."

  "Why not?"

  "He shot himself after he shot Kevin."

  Connor gasped and mopped at the tears on his cheeks. “Shot himself?"

  "I won't go into details.” She reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I think Kevin will live. My gut tells me that, but he lost a lot of blood, and there's a chance the bullet in his chest did some serious damage.” She was silent for a minute. “For what it's worth, I called Kevin's mother and told her what had happened."

  Connor could barely listen to her. He wanted to see Kevin, wanted to make certain he was still alive. He wanted to hold him one more time.

  She pulled into the hospital parking lot and put the car in Park, but she didn't get out, just sat with the car idling. “I'm going to warn you when you do see him, his face is a bloody mess. He was shot once in the chest. That one went straight through. The other bullet is still in his arm. I don't think it broke the bone, but he'll have a nasty scar, no doubt."

  Connor started shaking, and the tears were close. He could barely form a coherent thought.

  "What possessed Kevin to go home alone, I don't know. What possessed him to fight back when Harding had a gun, I don't know, but he did."

  She got out of the car and opened the door for him. The hand on his arm was a relief when she led him inside. He wasn't sure he could have gotten there without her guidance. He heard her ask about Kevin, but he sat down, too stunned and shaken to speak or move. She stayed with him, but she didn't engage him in conversation. A few times she touched his arm or laid a comforting hand on his back.

  Nicki and Scott came in and sat down on either side of him, each taking a hand, and he wanted to cry all over again. Dave showed up a few minutes later, and the four of them sat in a little huddle, holding hands. Connor's lips moved in a silent prayer. He hadn't prayed in years, but he did now.

  "Please, God. Please, let him live.” He whispered it over and over. Every so often a tear would slide down his cheek. Once, Nicki hugged him, promising that everything would be okay, that Kevin would be fine.

  "Detective Babcock?"

  Connor looked up at the new voice.

  "Yes.” Karen put down the magazine she'd been pretending to read and stood, approaching a nurse in green surgical scrubs. Connor held his breath.

  "Kevin Stohler is out of surgery.” Connor squeezed someone's hand tight enough to earn a yelp of pain.

  "How is he?"

  "He is an incredibly lucky man."

  Connor let out a heavy breath.

  "The bullet missed his heart and lung, but he lost a lot of blood. He'll be in ICU for a few days. Is his family here? I have a Nicki Lewis listed as an emergency contact."

  "Yes!” Nicki leaped up, a little too eagerly. “I'm here."

  The nurse motioned her to follow. “You can see him for a few minutes. He's not conscious."

  Nicki nodded and looked back at Connor. Her eyes softened a little. “Would it be all right if someone else saw him first?"

  "Only family."

  "Kevin doesn't really have family.” She pointed to the little group. “We're his family, and I think Connor should see him first."

  The nurse, a petite little blonde, scowled. “All right, but only for a few minutes.” Connor followed her. Kevin was hooked to machines that hissed and beeped. He was pale, and his face was battered. “He lost a lot of blood. The doctor thinks he'll make a full recovery if he gets through these first few days. I'll give you a few minutes alone.” She left, and he knelt beside the bed, folding Kevin's hand between his.

  He looked so small, so helpless, and Connor raised the hand to his cheek, hating the stillness. Kevin was always so full of energy and life, even when he was still. He seemed so empty now.

  "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Tears trailed down his cheeks. “Don't leave me, Kevin. Please don't leave me. I love you.” Kevin didn't move. Connor stood and kissed Kevin's forehead, wishing he could kiss away the bruises. “We're here, sweetheart. We're all here. Nicki and Scott and Dave and Karen."

  "Time to go.” The voice behind him was gentle, as was the hand on his arm. He was led away, but he looked back for one last glimpse of the battered figure in the bed. Connor returned to the waiting room, and the others each took a turn, returning to sit in a little huddle. Lilly and Mark were there now. Connor was dazed, and he barely registered any of the conversation around him.

  "Connor, I'll give you some advice.” Karen's voice dragged him out of the daze.

  "What sort of advice?"

  "Go to the cafeteria, get something to eat, get some coffee. I know he looks bad, but the doctor is optimistic. And Kevin does seem to have remarkable luck. Don't spend all of your time here at the hospital. You've got to take care of yourself, and given what I know of Kevin, I think he'd tell you the same thing."

  Connor nodded. “Did Josh ... did he ... do anything else to Kevin?"

  "No. But I think he tried.” She patted his hand. “We'll have to see how much Kevin remembers when he wakes up. I think that's why Kevin fought back. I think he decided he was going to die anyway, and he wasn't going to let that happen again.” She pointed to where Nicki and the others had started a game of cards, but their hearts didn't seem to be in the game. “Now, Miss Lewis seems to be a rathe
r practical and level-headed sort. I'll bet she'd be glad to take you to the cafeteria.” She patted his back gently and walked away.

  Nicki did go to the cafeteria with him, and he called his parents to let them know what had happened.

  "Connor?” His dad was frantic. “Are you okay? This guy, the one that was stalking—"

  "He's dead. He shot himself."

  "Oh.” His father said nothing for a few minutes. “Your mum and I are coming out there."

  "No, Dad—"

  "You aren't going to be alone at a time like this. We'll be on the first flight there."

  "I'm not alone."

  "Stop arguing, Connor. I'll call to let you know when we're in.” He hung up.

  "Not good?” Nicki asked.

  Connor closed his phone and hung his head. He was so tired. He had no idea what time it was or how long they'd been at the hospital. “They're coming out here. They don't want me to be alone."

  She squeezed his hand. “They care, Connor. That's more than I can say about Kevin's mother. Her son's in critical condition, and she hasn't come to see him or even called to check on him."

  "She cares,” Connor said softly. He believed those words, especially after hearing about Kevin's talk with her. “I think she just doesn't know how to show that she cares."

  They went back to the waiting room, and Connor dozed in one of the uncomfortable chairs.

  "Mr. McCann?"

  He opened his eyes. There was a different nurse now, an Asian woman, with a stocky, athletic build.

  "Yes?"

  "Kevin is asking for you."

  He surged from the chair so fast he had to steady himself for a moment before the nurse led him back to the room.

  "Only a few minutes,” she cautioned and walked away.

  He nodded and returned to the bedside, folding Kevin's hand in his. This time that hand weakly squeezed in return.

  "Connor?” His voice was little more than whisper.

  "I'm here, Kevin. I'm here.” He kissed Kevin's forehead, touched his cheek, any part of him that he could safely touch without disturbing one of the beeping or hissing machines.

  "The son of a bitch put me in the hospital again.” He didn't open his eyes.