by TT Kove
‘Are you thinking about suicide?’ Now he was alarmed.
I’d alarmed him.
Great.
‘No.’ I shook my head for emphasis. ‘I don’t want to die. I’ve got a good thing in my life now. I don’t want to leave him. And Mum and I are close, and I’m studying for my A-levels, and I want to do something with my life. It’s just hard. Everything’s so hard.’
‘If life wasn’t hard, what would be the point in living it?’
I snorted.
‘Challenge makes us stronger.’ Something else he’d said at one time.
‘It does. And your whole life has been a challenge. You deserve something good in it, but you know what that means? That means you’re strong. You survived something that many wouldn’t have been able to. I’d say that’s pretty strong, all right.’
‘I’m scarred for life for it, though.’
‘Your scars tell a story. A story of how you’ve suffered and how you pulled through.’
I let my hands drop and finally looked back up at him.
‘It sounds so noble that way.’
‘It’s the truth, isn’t it?’ He cocked his head to one side, regarding me.
‘The ugly truth, perhaps.’
‘Truth is rarely pretty.’
I had to concede.
‘Now, that’s true.’ The truth of my childhood wasn’t pretty—it was horrifying.
I would never get over it and I didn’t think my mum would, either.
I’d never in my entire life seen her as emotional as the day she’d found out what her husband had been up to for years and years behind her back. She’d thought he’d been a loving, devoted stepfather who’d allowed her to focus on her career.
How very wrong she’d been.
But one good thing about it all was that Mum and I had got close afterwards. We hadn’t been before.
She’d spent all her time at work, leaving Andrew to raise me.
I knew she felt guilty still, but I also knew she loved me, and we were good. So good. She’d do everything for me.
I’d do everything for her. And for Damian.
Because I loved him—and he loved me, too, and I should learn to listen to what he said instead of jumping to my own conclusions like that morning.
I owed him a pretty big apology.
18
Forceful Introduction
Josh
Apologies were easy enough on paper, but when I got the Café a bit before five later that day and saw Damian behind the counter, my courage failed.
So I fled down the hall to the back room, without so much as looking at him as I passed.
He’d been busy with a customer, so he might not have even seen me.
I sank down on the sofa to wait for Harriet and my mum. Harriet hadn’t been out front when I came in, but she might’ve been in the kitchen.
The door opened behind me and I jumped up with some apprehension, kind of expecting Damian.
It wasn’t him, but an auburn-haired lad my own age. There was no question who he was. The resemblance to Harriet was uncanny.
‘You must be Chad.’
He stared at me. The only way I could describe it was predatory. Then he strode up to me, pushed my shoulder so hard I slammed back against the wall, and then he pressed up close.
‘You can have me.’
The meeting with the wall knocked the breath out of me, but it didn’t stop the confusion I felt.
‘Wha-what are you doing?’ I swallowed heavily, nerves twisting my stomach and my hands fluttered in front of me. I wasn’t sure I dared or was strong enough to push him away.
He gazed at my arms, then grabbed both my wrists without preamble and forced them wide and up against the wall.
‘Ph-please,’ I begged in a small voice.
He was hurting me. He had when he’d first pushed me, and his grip on my wrists now was tight.
‘Like to beg, do you? That turns you on?’
I was so far from turned on.
‘Please don’t hurt me.’ Better to beg instead of try to fight. It was always worse when I fought. I’d learnt that the hard way.
‘Hurt you? Oh, love, I’m not ever going to hurt you. I’m going to make you feel so good. Like you’ve never felt before.’
Instead of Harriet’s nephew with his mop of auburn hair, I saw sleek, dirty, blond hair and dark eyes behind a pair of glasses. Those were his words, he’d used them so many times to try and subdue me. He often said it before he pushed me down on a bed and had his way with me.
Hips thrust forward, a hard cock lining up against my crotch.
My breath caught in my throat, fright making me tremble from head to toe.
I heard the door open, voice drifting in—familiar voices.
‘Do you mind?’ he snapped. ‘We’re kind of busy here.’
All I could see was Andrew, him forcing me to do things I didn’t want to be a part of.
‘Mum,’ I whimpered, her voice having stood out.
‘Chad, let go off him.’ Harriet’s voice, coming closer.
‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ His grip around my wrists tightened further.
‘Let him go!’ That was Mum’s voice, all demanding and serious.
I saw her hand in my line of sight, grabbing onto Chad’s upper arm, and then she shoved him away from me.
His grip around me disappeared and so did the feel of him pressed up close and personal.
Mum turned to me, arm going around my shoulder.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
I peered at her, but she wasn’t facing me. Her reprimand wasn’t meant for me.
‘No, what do you think you’re doing?’ Chad was full of rage now as he glared at Mum. Then he spun towards Harriet. ‘And you! What do you think you’re doing? Disrupting us while we were in the middle of something. Stop ruining my life!’
Harriet took a step back, startled.
‘Chad, I’m not—‘
But he ran out of the room before she could get anything else out.
‘Come on.’ Mum guided me towards the door too.
I still shook from head to foot, memories of Andrew blurring my vision.
Directly across from the break room was the door into the kitchen and that was where Harriet’s nephew had run.
‘Chad!’ I heard Harriet cry out and Mum ran to catch up with her. ‘Chad, what are you doing?’
I peeked in too, and Chad stood there, jabbing a knife at Leslie, who worked both in front and in the kitchen.
‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’ Chad turned the knife on himself, pressing it against his neck. ‘If I do this, you won’t have to deal with me anymore. No one will have to deal with me anymore. My mum did it, so why can’t I?’
Blood started to trickle from where the blade pierced skin, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Blood had helped me survive for as long as I had. Blood and tears and knives and razors.
‘Chad, no!’ Harriet sobbed, while I heard Mum’s muffled voice on the phone.
She was turned away from me, so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. It didn’t matter anyway; I still stared at the blood.
Chad closed his eyes.
‘Shut up, shut up, shut up!’
Was he talking to Mum? She was the only one speaking now. Or maybe he wanted Harriet to quit sobbing?
‘Chad?’ Harriet took a hesitant step forward.
‘I said shut up!’
‘Please give me the knife—’
‘Shut up!’ Chad backed away, towards the doorway leading out behind the counter.
The doorway where Damian stood, regarding everything coolly.
His eyes met mine over Chad’s shoulder, and I didn’t know what I looked like, but he must’ve seen something because his eyes widened a fraction.
Chad sobbed now too, and then things happened quickly.
Damian grabbed his hand, trying to wrench the knife from it.
Chad jerked back, surprised, then his
despair was replaced with rage again.
‘Don’t touch me! You fucking bitch!’ He tried to pull his hand out of Damian’s grip, but he didn’t stand a chance. ‘Let me go!’
Damian had a hold of the knife and Chad was vibrating where he stood. His arms shot out and pushed Damian so hard against the counter that the sound clattered through the room.
Then someone else was in there, pinning Chad to the floor: a big, muscular man dressed in a paramedic’s uniform.
Chad flailed against being restrained and he screamed.
Another paramedic had entered with a gurney, which they somehow managed to put him on, and then he got restrained around both wrists and feet.
Harriet hurried over to his side, tears still streaming down her face. ‘Chad, it’s going to be okay.’
‘Let me go! Lemmego lemmego lemmego!’ His screams were so loud that I wanted to put my hands over my ears to try and block them out, but I couldn’t get myself to move. I was frozen in place. ‘I’m going to fucking kill you!’
They started wheeling him out.
‘Go with him!’ Mum pushed gently on Harriet’s shoulder, which seemed to break her free of her own frozen stance. She ran to catch up with them.
Once Chad’s screams had died down, everything seemed too silent.
I fell against the doorway, barely managing to hold myself up.
‘Josh!’ Damian was at my side, arms going for my side, helping to keep me on my feet.
I leant against him heavily.
‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!’ I buried my face in his neck.
‘Are you okay?’ I heard Mum say, a bit away.
‘Ye-yeah.’ Leslie didn’t sound okay though, as his voice shook. ‘What was that? I mean, I know what it was. It was Harriet’s nephew, but I’ve never seen him like that before…’
‘He’s mentally ill.’
I turned my head to the side, so my cheek rested against Damian, but I could see the two of them.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘His mum was bipolar, so I reckon he is as well. It’s hereditary, that one.’ Mum glanced between us. ‘I think we’ll close up now. I don’t think any of you should stay here after what just happened, and Harriet will agree to that. I’ll go deal with the customers, you just gather yourselves, okay?’
Leslie nodded and turned to the sink, where he preceded to wash off the board he’d been cutting on. His hands trembled so bad that I was afraid it would clatter to the floor, but he managed to hold on to it.
‘What happened?’ Damian pushed me out from him, holding me an arm’s length away. His gaze searched me intently. ‘Did he do anything to you?’
I nodded quickly.
‘He tried to-to—‘ I couldn’t get the words out. ‘I don’t want it, either,’ I said instead. ‘This morning, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I don’t want it. I don’t. I’m not ready—’
‘Hey.’ Damian cupped my face in his palms, breaking off my rambling. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not.’
Mum strode back into the kitchen, all business like only she could manage after such an ordeal.
‘Take him home,’ she told Damian. ‘And Leslie, go home to go your family. I’ll close up here.’ She shooed all three of us into the break room without giving us room to argue.
I was glad she took charge.
There was nothing I wanted more than to go home with my boyfriend, and I took the opportunity she gave us and clutched it close.
‘Will you tell me what happened?’
Damian thrust a mug of tea into my hands and sat down close to me, giving me a worried look.
I sipped said tea slowly.
‘He tried to force me into sex.’ He’d kept asking me on the way home, but I hadn’t wanted to get into it in public. Keeping our affairs private and all that. ‘And I flashed back to Andrew. It was horrible. I’m not ready for sex, after all. I just… I’m okay with you not wanting it. I don’t want to experience what I did today again, in any sort of setting, with you. I just don’t.’
Damian drew in a deep breath.
‘About this morning…’
‘I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry I made you mad. I just didn’t think.’
‘I wasn’t mad at you,’ he protested. ‘I was embarrassed and mad at myself.’
Just like Vincent said.
‘Why? It’s perfectly natural.’
‘Maybe it is, but I hate it. Whenever that happens, I can’t stand it.’
I threw him a wry look.
‘Why don’t you just wank off? It’ll be gone in a moment then. And it’s good.’
‘No.’ He rubbed at his forehead. ‘I don’t want to.’
‘How do you know that unless you try?’
‘How do you know you’re gay unless you try having sex with a woman?’ he countered drily.
I subsided.
He had a point.
‘Some things you just know, and I know I don’t want to have sex. Maybe it’ll change in the future, but as of now it’s a big no-no for me. And whenever something like this morning happens, I feel like shit, because it shouldn’t happen when I have no interest in it.’
I removed one hand from around the hot mug and put it on his forearm.
‘It happens to every single bloke out there, I reckon, unless they have problems that prevent it. Like erectile dysfunction.’
‘That would be preferable.’ It came out bitterly.
I felt really, really shitty.
‘I won’t ever do it again. I promise. I swear.’
‘If that is something you need, Josh, then—’
‘It’s not!’ I interrupted quickly, afraid of what he’d offer. He certainly wouldn’t offer himself, and if he’d been about to say I was free to go find it other places, I didn’t want to hear it. ‘I swear to you, Damian, it’s not. I’m perfectly happy here with you. There’s nothing more I need.’
‘But you say you like it.’ He seemed miserable all of a sudden. His hands clenched atop his knees.
‘I also liked doing drugs the few times I tried it, but that doesn’t mean I want to keep doing it.’
He cast me a wry look.
‘You’ve done drugs?’
‘I’ve done a lot. Many things I’m not proud of or that I didn’t like, some that I did like, all to try and escape from my shitty life.’ I squeezed his arm. ‘But it’s not anymore. Shitty, that is. My life is good now, in no small part thanks to you. I have no need to try out new things, bad things, sexual things. I’m happy.’
‘I am too, you know, happy with the way things are.’ He turned a bit so we were both sitting sideways in the sofa, facing each other. ‘I like what we have. We can be together without that.’
‘Yes, we can.’ I put my mug on the table and instead took both of his hands in mine. ‘But like your body betrays you, it also happens to mine. I can’t promise I won’t wake up with a boner, because it’s just the way it is. It’s bound to happen, and happen often. It has happened many times. I’m just wired that way, like most blokes.’ I bowed my head. ‘And even if I’m okay with no sex, I am probably going to spend some time with my right hand, because I think it’s good and it’s relaxing.’
‘That’s okay,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I don’t expect you to be completely celibate. Just to know that I don’t want any part of it.’
‘I hear you loud and clear.’ I leant in close, letting our lips hover only inches apart.
He tilted his head forward, just the right distance, and our lips slid together in a soft, chaste, brief kiss.
‘How are you feeling after what happened with Harriet’s nephew?’
‘Traumatised.’ I smiled to tell him I was joking. Well, halfway joking anyway. ‘I’m going to have to use a few therapy sessions for this. I didn’t see him in that room, you know. I saw Andrew. Chad was being forceful, like Andrew used to be, and I flashed back to it.’
Damian leant in, his cheek pressing against mine.
<
br /> ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault. Who could’ve known he’d be like that? Besides, it’s not his fault. If he’s got a mental illness, he can’t help. I have one, so I should know.’ I leant into him, thankful for the silent support. ‘Andrew didn’t have a mental illness. He was just a lowlife scum using a child for his own pleasures.’
Damian pulled his hands out of my grip then proceeded to wrap both arms tightly around me. He didn’t say anything, just held me for several minutes.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the comfort he gave me.
‘I love you so much,’ I whispered.
‘Love you, too.’ He didn’t say it often, which made it all the more special when he actually did.
As it was, it made my stomach flutter, and now I was the one clutching him close.
Today had been a bad day, but as long as I had him at the end of it, things would always be better. He made me better and every day I got to spend with him was a day I would always cherish.
No matter what kind of stupid things I did, he was always there. I hoped he always would be, too.
I headed down to the Café the next day, right in time for Leslie’s shift to start. I found him in the kitchen, where he stood in front of the counter, staring at the array of knives hanging on the wall in front of him.
‘How’re you doing?’
He whirled around, startled.
‘Oh. Hi.’
‘Hey.’ Maybe I should’ve made my presence known before starting in on the questions. ‘You all right?’
Leslie’s eyes darted towards the knives again. ‘I keep thinking about yesterday. That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. He just jabbed it at me.’
‘It wasn’t his fault.’ I pushed away from the doorway. ‘He’s ill.’ I felt the need to defend him, even after what he’d done to me. That hadn’t been his fault either, but a result of his illness. ‘I know what it’s like to not be in control of one’s own mind, though I’m not like him.’
Leslie dropped his gaze.
‘I guess you would. And I know, but it’s just—it was horrible. And it happened so unexpectedly. One minute I was chopping onions, the next someone wrenched the knife out of my hand and jabbed it towards me.’
I would’ve taken that experience instead of flashing back to Andrew’s abuse, but I didn’t say it out loud. I could imagine it wouldn’t be a good feeling to be threatened by someone with a knife. It’d been awful to watch, too.
