Looking In

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Looking In Page 22

by Michael Bailey


  I felt weary and boneless, sweet exhaustion rolling across me, along with an unexpected peace.

  He gently set me down on the bench beside the duffle bag and stood. He brushed his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing away the excess saliva and cum, and licked it clean. I simply stared openmouthed.

  “Still stressed?”

  “No. Can’t feel anything, actually.”

  “Good. I take that as a job well done then.”

  I smirked at him and he glided his palm across my cheek. “I meant what I said. You are beautiful. Never forget it.”

  “And if I do?”

  “Then I’ll have to remind you. Every chance I get. Now come on, get ready. I really do need help with my back and you need to get into your costume.”

  “Aye, aye captain.” I said, giving a mock salute.

  “Careful. You wouldn’t like it when I’m angry. Hulk smash!”

  That made me giggle.

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I…I do love you. I know it’s hard sometimes, being with me. But I do love you.”

  He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. “I love you too.”

  Stepping out into the hallway after changing was a surreal experience. I felt as if everyone knew what we had done in there and that they were all looking at me and judging. Of course, no one really was. Doctors and nurses jostled past us, some casting questioning looks at a bearded Incredible Hulk, Spider-Man, Batman, and Robin. But no one said a word.

  Greg and Owen soon found us. Greg dressed as Deadpool, which I found oddly appropriate, and Owen was dressed as Captain America. Again, oddly appropriate given his position as “elder statesman” of the group.

  A mild ruckus could be heard in the distance, slowly making its way in our direction. Peering off, I saw a camera man and female reporter barreling in our direction. I thought nothing of it. Maybe there had been a car accident or fire they were covering, and they were looking to interview the victims.

  No such luck.

  They stopped in front of our motley crew. “David Barrows? Which one of you is David Barrows?”

  I looked around, half expecting someone else with my name to step up. Ryan and Adam both looked at me, and Adam put his hand on my shoulder as he turned to her. “This is David.”

  “David, Sheena Westerly from ATOL News. I understand you’ve put together quite a thing for the children in the cancer ward tonight,” she said, thrusting a microphone in my face.

  Adam turned and peeled my mask off. “He has.”

  I glanced at him, thankful for his help in taking control, albeit limited.

  “This was no small feat. Between coordinating with the hospital and gathering donations, how were you able to pull all of this off?”

  “I had a lot of help,” I stammered out.

  “Modest and handsome.”

  I felt a hand at the small of my back, and instinctively knew that it was Adam. He always seemed to know when I was in jeopardy of flailing and was willing to lend his support, silently even. For the briefest of moments, I wondered if he would leave a green handprint behind, and the thought made me smile.

  I blushed. “No, I did. None of this would have been possible without the help of these gentlemen.” I waved my hand to my gathered group. “They were the ones that did all the leg work.”

  “But it was your idea. You’re the one that coordinated it,” Adam put in.

  “That may be, but it was a group effort. I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

  Adam turned to the reporter. “He really is modest, isn’t he?”

  I could have kicked him.

  Ms. Westerly turned her attention from me and zeroed in on Greg and Owen, and her cameraman followed suit.

  I turned to Adam. “What are they doing here?” I asked, waving toward the reporter.

  Adam shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe the hospital contacted them. Free publicity never hurts. And everyone likes a good humanitarian story.”

  “Oh, so I’m a humanitarian now?”

  Adam grinned. “Every day, baby.”

  He wrapped his arms around my neck, not caring who saw, and I found that I didn’t either. As long as he was with me, I felt untouchable and safe. Green paint and all.

  He leaned into me. “If you get green paint on me, I swear.”

  He chuckled against me, and brushed my lips with his. “Oh, do you now?”

  I couldn’t help but grin. “You’re insane.”

  “Maybe.”

  After the commotion caused by the reporter died down, Ryan and Owen went to their respective cars and got the bags filled to overflowing with candy. I will admit, I found a certain amount of humorous irony in the idea of taking so much of what was bad for you into a facility that was meant to be everything but.

  One of the nurses brought a cart, and we all loaded the bags up. Soon, a hodgepodge collection of superheroes was going room by room handing out bags and well-wishes. The kids were dressed in costumes of their own and seemed delighted, and some of the parents genuinely taken aback by the effort. A few even met us at the door with tears in their eyes. I was silently grateful that I was wearing a mask so that no one could see my own.

  I had no idea how many people it would touch. It was almost overwhelming. More than once, I wanted to excuse myself to go to one of the bathrooms just to cry. To see all of those children with life-threatening illnesses, wanting nothing more than to be allowed to be children was truly heartbreaking. It also allowed me to view the relationship that Ryan had with Lucas in a whole new way. Ryan rarely left Lucas’s side through his ordeal, and would do literally anything to protect his son. I saw that level of commitment over and over in the eyes of the parents.

  I vowed that it wouldn’t be the last time I did something like that, even if I had to do it on my own. I knew, however, that I wouldn’t have to. I knew that Adam would be by my side every step of the way.

  That warmth rushed over me again at the mere thought of any kind of future with him. I poked it and prodded at it trying to loosen some of the fear that was typically attached to that warmth.

  There was none.

  Adam and I were trailing behind as Ryan pushed the cart, flanked on either side by Owen, Greg, and Lucas. Without even thinking about it, I reached out and found Adam’s hand. Interlacing our fingers, I gave it a slight squeeze. I didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. I could feel it, coursing through his body and into mine. But there was something else there too, and it mixed with everything that I had been feeling, and it just felt…right.

  The candy seemed to be distributed in record time, but in fact, it took a few hours. Parents, patients, and hospital staff all wanted to stop and chat with us, and they all seemed incredibly grateful. There was such an outpouring of love and support for something that I had originally thought to be minor. Others saw it differently.

  Soon, the carts were emptied and taken back by the staff, and the six of us milled about in the parking lot. The sense of pride was palpable, each of us basked in the glow. Adam’s arm was draped over my shoulder casually, and my hand played with his dangling fingertips.

  We chatted until Lucas let out the first yawn, and Ryan took that as a signal that we should head out.

  As we said our goodbyes, Greg threw his arms around me in a crushing embrace. I was in genuine shock. Greg was the picture of masculinity. My heart ached for him, and his relationship with his brother. I found myself wondering where his brother was. I felt an odd kinship with Greg, we were both experiencing the same problem, but for vastly different reasons. “He’s a keeper, ya know,” he whispered against my ear. “He looks at you like everything revolves around you.”

  I returned his embrace, whispering back, “The feeling is quite mutual.”

  “I’m happy for you, man.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  It did too. Maybe it was the events of the night, or maybe it was the bond that Greg and I had been developing sin
ce meeting Adam. But I truly felt like I had a friend, someone that was watching my back.

  “This was fucking amazing,” Greg said, taking hold of my shoulder and giving it a firm shake.

  “It wouldn’t have happened without your help,” I said, suddenly feeling very emotional from his praise. “I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you.”

  “That’s what friends are for, David. That’s what we are. I hope you know that.”

  “I do,” I choked out. I couldn’t trust myself to speak anymore.

  Greg gave my shoulder one final squeeze, then turned and followed Owen to the car.

  It was odd, really, at least for me. My life had changed so much since meeting Adam that I hardly recognized my old self. I knew he still existed. Your past never goes away. But I was also beginning to learn that your present doesn’t need to be dictated by it.

  By the time I got to Ryan’s car, Lucas was already fast asleep in the front passenger’s seat. Adam and I climbed into the back, and our hands found each other on their own.

  The car was comfortably silent as we headed back to my place. I needed to pick up some clothes if I was going to continue staying with Adam. I was sure that we were all lost in our own thoughts over the success of the night. I also suspected that none of us wanted to risk waking Lucas. After everything he’d been through, he needed as much rest as possible.

  Soon, we pulled into the parking lot behind my building. Adam climbed out of the car at the same time I did, and silently escorted me up the stairs to my door. “Maybe we should stay here tonight,” I said without turning to look at him.

  He brushed his hand down my back and I turned. “Are you sure?”

  I favored him with a smile. That feeling I recognized at the restaurant came back full force. Stronger than before, more potent. Heat, desire, and love. I had never felt it before, at least not in that way. I certainly knew it when my mother was alive, but that was something different, on an entirely different level.

  That realization should have sent me running into my studio and slamming the door in his face. It would have before. But after recognizing it for what it was, I remembered seeing it reflected back in his eyes. Over and over, he was telling me he loved me, not with words but with his actions and his soul. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. He knew what I needed even before I did, and never hesitated to give it to me.

  I was so deeply in love with Adam that the very concept was mind-boggling. I felt freer with him than I had ever felt on my own.

  I laughed out loud and Adam’s brows knit together, concern etched in his features. I reached for him, taking his face in the palm of my hand, and he leaned into me. My thumb lazily traced the worry lines near his eyes, wishing I could erase them because I knew I was partially responsible for them being there.

  “Yes, I’m sure. One night can’t hurt anything, can it? What are the chances that my father’s going to show up tonight? I have to work in the morning. There’s no point in coming back tomorrow if we’re already here.”

  His face lit up and in that instant those lines were gone. “I’ll Uber home.”

  I laughed again at his enthusiasm as he raced down the stairs and toward Ryan’s car, then I turned and unlocked my door. I stepped in, flipped the light on, and turned into the room…

  To find my father sitting on my couch.

  With a revolver lying across his lap.

  For a moment, I didn’t think he was real. I blinked, truly believing I was seeing things.

  My blood went cold. That man had made my childhood a living hell, beat me into submission on a daily basis with his words and his fists.

  “It took you long enough to get here. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting,” he said, sitting on my couch as if he belonged there. “Come in, have a seat.”

  My feet seemed rooted in the floor. Heart racing, I tried to stay calm. I glanced from the gun to his face and back to the gun. Could I get to him before he got to it? I doubted it.

  “I’ve been watching you for a while. Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, lifting a hand and waving it around. “Reminds me of where I’ve been for the last fifteen years. Ironic, really.”

  “Watching me?”

  “You have something that was taken from me.”

  My fists clenched, and my heart raced. “I haven’t taken anything from anyone.”

  At that moment, Adam came through the door, oblivious to the fact that we weren’t alone. “Hey, babe, Ryan’s gonna pick me up in the morning.” Then he realized I wasn’t looking at him. “Babe?”

  I glanced in the direction of the couch, and he followed my line of sight until he saw our “guest.” He bristled, and took a step in front of me, effectively shielding me. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “You’re the boyfriend. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you better get the fuck outta here.”

  Adam took a step forward, but I gently grabbed his arm and tugged, stopping him before he could get any further. “Gun,” I whispered.

  He took a step back.

  “I saw you on television tonight,” my father said, venom and hate that dripped from each syllable.

  He grabbed the gun from his lap and stood. He took a step toward where Adam and I stood, and Adam stretched out his arm in a cross, attempting to shield me more. As he did, he stepped further back, pressing his body into mine.

  “You looked so happy, helping those poor kids in the hospital. Probably reminded you of something, didn’t it? You really thought, after everything you took from me, I’d let you get away with it? You stole from me. Years! My life! Everything! You really thought that your good deed tonight with your boyfriend would erase all of that, didn’t you?”

  “I haven’t taken a thing!” I yelled. Adam tried to shush me, but I had had enough. I had quickly reached the point where I couldn’t take anymore. Adam continued to back into me until my back finally hit the wall. I had nowhere else to go.

  Bile rose in my throat.

  Adrenaline started pumping.

  The fight or flight instinct kicked in.

  He grinned at me, and that cold seeped deeper into my bones.

  He waved the gun in the direction of the couch. “Now sit the fuck down.”

  Adam and I did as we were told, Adam pushing me in front of him, keeping himself between my father and me.

  Once seated, Adam took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. That physical connection to him was almost enough to steel my nerves.

  Almost.

  My father’s face brightened, like a child that was finally getting his way. “You thought that you could hide from me, that I’d never find you? I admit, it took longer than it should have. But once I did, I knew it was only a matter of time before I got back what you stole. It’s amazing what you learn when you’ve been in prison for fifteen years. Picking your lock was nothing. The first time I set foot into this…dump, I knew you belonged here. Trash with trash.”

  He began to pace, his body virtually vibrating with rage. “I never forgot you, David. Or the lies you told that got me put away. You’re just like she was, you know. A liar to the end. You never had to pay for that. She never had to pay for it. But you will now.”

  “I never lied about you. Everything I said was the truth! I never understood how you could treat your own son the way you did me.”

  “My son?” my father asked. “I never laid a hand on Dylan.”

  “What about me, Dad? Why was it always me?”

  He chuckled, and it chilled me to the bone. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know? Know what?”

  His chuckle turned to full blown laughter. “She never told you. Of course she didn’t. Why would she? She almost took that little piece of information to her grave, but she didn’t. She just had to get one more dig at me before she died.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He came at me then
, shoving his face to within inches of mine, his lips pressed to my ear. I could smell his breath, a combination of cigarettes and stale beer, and my stomach turned.

  “You’re not my son,” he whispered. And then he pulled back.

  In that moment, everything I knew about myself was turned upside down. He didn’t need the gun to blow my world apart, he did it with words. Everything I knew to be true was a lie. Nothing made sense. My vision tunneled and my world collapsed in on itself. Someone had taken the puzzle that was my life, thrown it into the air, and let it fall to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

  I found it difficult to breathe, like an invisible hand was pressing against my chest. My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t draw a breath.

  “I was sitting next to her hospital bed the day before she died. Her eyes opened. I leaned in to kiss her and she whispered that she had something to tell me. I sat back in the chair, and she confessed. She’d cheated and got pregnant. I thought you were mine, but she knew better. She had a DNA test done without me knowing. She told me where to find it.”

  My brain was having a hard time processing everything that was happening. The entire scene was unbelievable. My father here, in my home. My father…not being my father. I had no idea what to make of any of it.

  His ranting grew louder. “The night she died, I found it. You’re not mine.”

  He began pacing the room again, becoming even more agitated as he remembered. “She left me with you, a sniveling little faggot that I was forced to take care of. No one could know. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be if people found out my wife cheated and you were the result? That I couldn’t take care of her?”

  “And I knew you were a fag,” he continued. “I could see it in the way you dressed and talked. You’d been a pussy your entire life. No kid of mine would have ever been queer.”

  A gentle squeeze of my hand brought me out of my daze. I looked at Adam, his brown eyes deep with concern. He squeezed my hand again, and I felt a rush, like someone flipped a switch in my mind, and everything began to reorganize, puzzle pieces being put back together to form a new picture.

  I finally understood why I was the constant target of his rage while Dylan was left alone, and why my father hated me. I was the living, breathing reminder of my mother’s infidelity, the unwanted thing that he was left to care for after she’d died. None of that made his abuse right, but I had solid, indisputable verbal confirmation that I had done nothing wrong. I had been as much a victim of those fucked-up circumstances as he had been. Perhaps more so. I was the child, an innocent in all of it, left to pick up the pieces after she died, and I didn’t even know all her secrets.

 

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