by Jon Keys
“Charlie, what’s wrong with your back?”
His jaw clenched, and he yanked part of his shirt free with a guttural noise. “I better get home. I gotta go.”
Sam didn’t even try to argue. “Gordy. Come here please, like right now!”
There was a scrape of chair legs against wooden floor then boots coming closer. He glanced toward Charlie and saw he was trying to back toward the door. “Don’t, Charlie. Please.”
Gordy walked beside them at that moment and shot them both a confused look. “What’s up? Mom has lunch ready, and she hates it when stuff gets cold.”
Sam nodded at the ghost pale man in front of them. “Check out his back.”
Gordy’s brow furrowed, and he glanced between the two of them. His expression became grave as he focused his attention. “What’s going on, Charlie?”
“Nothing. Honest, Gordy. I just got in trouble this morning.”
His scowl deepened. “Let me see.”
Charlie appeared close to bursting into tears as he turned so his back was facing them. There was a moment of silence and when Sam glanced at Gordy, his jaw clinched at the sight before him.
“What are you kids doing? Your mother has lunch ready.”
“Dad, we need you for a minute.”
There was only silence before Doug appeared at his side. He was grim when Gordy nodded toward Charlie. After a few seconds, he reached over, pinched the shirt’s cloth, then with the lightest of touches pulled the material away from Charlie’s back. A whimper leaked out that made Sam wince.
“How bad is it?” Doug asked. The dark expression on his face was more ominous than any hell-bringer thunderstorm.
Charlie made a tiny motion of denial. “I didn’t get chores done fast enough and messed up the tractor.”
“Your dad did this?”
Charlie answered, although it was obvious to Sam that he wasn’t asking a question. “Yes, sir. But I screwed up. I know better.”
Jeff rounded the corner as Charlie finished what he was saying, spotted the blood dotted shirt and turned a deep shade of red. Without a word, he lifted the shirt a little and exposed a pattern of bruises and bleeding marks.
“I’m killing the fucker! He can’t keep doing this to you.” He charged toward the door, but Gordy grabbed his arm.
“Charlie’s hurt, and charging off half-cocked won’t help anyone.”
“Get your damn hands off me,” Jeff snarled.
Doug leveled a gaze at the two of them that would have frozen fire. “That’s enough.”
The battling brothers stopped, seeming chastised. Doug’s focus shifted back to the young man who was standing a few feet from him and trembling. “Charlie. I need you to take off your shirt, so I can see how bad the injuries are.”
He shook like a cottonwood leaf during a summer storm. Sam was almost certain Charlie had tears running down his face. “Mr. Hager, please. I’ll go home. I didn’t know they were still bleeding.”
A firm voice cut through the air. “Everyone go sit down and leave us alone.”
It was Gordy’s mother. This wasn’t the woman who had been so overwhelmed at Gordy’s news that she needed help to move. This clearly was a woman Sam didn’t want to fuck with, and God help him or anyone else who messed with her kids. It was obvious she considered Charlie a child of hers.
But she underestimated her family. Not only did no one leave, but Heather and Hannah were listening. She snorted a divisive comment, but turned back to Charlie. “Apparently, no one will listen. Let’s get you out of this dark hallway and see how bad it is.” She fixed a still-furious Jeff with an unflinching stare. “Get me a bucket of hot water and a washcloth.”
“For what?” Jeff snarled.
She studied him for a minute but answered his question, “To soak the shirt loose. Some places it’s dried and I don’t want to tear anything open.”
At this point, an overwhelmed Charlie moved into the well-lit dining room. A minute into the process, Jean asked the girls to take Tyler outside to play. Halfway through, it was obvious Charlie was in pain getting his shirt off his slender body. Jeff stepped to his side and took his hand. A glance passed between Doug and Jean but neither spoke.
The tension was palpable by the time Charlie could slip his shirt from his back. Sam was horrified and gasped, but the expressions on the faces of the four members of Gordy’s family were terrifying. If Gordy on the football field was anything close to as fearsome, the opposing tackles would run the other direction.
Jean darted her hand and hovered over Charlie’s back like a hummingbird but never made contact. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and shook her head. “We need to take you to the hospital, Charlie.”
That panicked the young man and tears flowed again. “No, please. I can’t go to the hospital. I can’t. I’ll go home. They’ll close up soon. I just forgot to wear a T-shirt under my shirt.”
Sam was dumbstruck by the sight in front of him, and what Charlie was telling them had happened before. Seven or eight purple and blue welts covered his back with the bloody marks seeping from far too many places. He saw why Jean was hesitant to begin. Jeff was pale and holding tightly to Charlie’s hand. It occurred to Sam that he could help. He didn’t have the years of history with Charlie to make this as emotion-laden. He slipped closer and took the opened first-aid box from Jean’s hand and guided Charlie to a seat.
Sam ignored everyone as he slipped on a pair of gloves from the kit. He studied the crisscrossing wounds and tried to remember the Red Cross first-aid training he’d had years before. Sam grabbed two of largest pads in the kit and soaked the first one with peroxide. He patted the most severe places along Charlie’s shoulders. The initial couple of times he touched the lacerated areas got a hissing inhalation. But as he moved lower, leaving a trail of foaming peroxide and clean skin, the reaction lessened. Before he’d gotten more than a short way down the young man’s back, Gordy had stepped in, donned another pair of gloves stretched to their limit by his massive hands and applied antibiotic ointment with obvious care.
Time lost all relevance as he worked his way down the pale back in front of him. He reached the end of the expanse of skin and studied the sullen red marks disappearing into his pants. He glanced at Gordy and got a slight shake of his head. Sam picked up a roll of gauze and paused for a moment before turning to Gordy.
“I don’t know if this will make it worse. Is it going to stick again?”
Gordy studied Charlie for an instant then turned back to Sam. “He can wear one of my old T-shirts. It’ll be so big on him that it won’t touch anything.” He disappeared down the hallway and reappeared a minute later with an oversized dark orange T-shirt in his hands. He held it out to Charlie, who slipped it over his torso. The shirt seemed to relieve the anxious young man.
Jean and Gordy helped clean up the doctoring remnants before she waved everyone to the table. “Let’s eat. I’m sure everyone’s hungry.”
A subdued group sat down and passed the food to each other. But after a minute passed, Doug pushed away from the table, his face fixed in a deep frown.
“Doug. Eat first.”
“Jean, this has to be dealt with, and I won’t be able to rest until it is.”
Gordy and Jeff moved to go with him but he waved them to their seats. “No, boys. I’ll take care of this.”
With obvious hesitation, they eased themselves back into their chairs. Charlie seemed almost ready to say something but Doug cut him off. “Nothing you could have done is a reason to beat you with fencing wire like he did. I won’t be long, and this needs taken care of now.”
No one at the table appeared happy with their father’s decision, but no one was foolish enough to challenge him. Sam was at a loss, but he was certain Gordy’s dad could deal with almost anything. It was obvious which parent Gordy got his size from, and it wasn’t his mother’s family. Everyone watched as he pulled on a pair of heavy work boots and walked out of the door.
“Is Dad
going to be okay?” Heather asked.
“Your father will be fine. He can take care of himself,” Jean said.
Sam glanced at Gordy’s mother. She is one pissed-off lady.
* * * *
An hour had passed and the entire family became more apprehensive by the minute. No one was hungry, and after a few weak attempts at getting her family to eat, Jean gave up and they put away the food. The family congregated in the living room while the television no one was watching ran in the background. Jeff had released Charlie’s hand from his grip but still hovered closely.
“Dad’s home,” Heather said as she glanced out the window for the second time in the last minute.
Everyone rushed for the door, but Jean motioned them to stay where they were. “Your dad doesn’t need you all hovering around and asking questions.” She glanced at her eldest daughter and nodded. “Hannah, get your dad some sweet tea. I’m sure he’ll be thirsty.”
The door opened, and every eye was riveted on the man who walked through. He seemed none the worse for wear, at least from what Sam could tell. He made his way to his recliner, which he sank into with a sigh. He smiled when someone handed him a glass of tea, which he drained half of before stopping. Then he sat it on the table beside him and fastened his eyes on Charlie and Jeff.
“Your father is a difficult man. I won’t pretend to understand his view of life. but I can’t abide him beating his children. He made a mistake in reminding me that your eighteenth birthday was a month back. You’re welcome to stay here, if you’d like.”
Charlie looked like he’d gotten a reprieve from a death sentence—and maybe he had. His gaze darted around the room, waiting for someone to tell him it was a joke. Jeff beamed at him, giving him a reassuring hug.
When they broke their exchange, Doug was studying them.
“There’s another talk in our future, isn’t there?” Doug asked.
Sam couldn’t help a smile creeping across his face and Gordy snorted.
Chapter Seventeen
The scorching late June heat wave made it miserable to be outside, and the tiny air conditioner in Gordy’s trailer ran all the time to keep it at a somewhat comfortable temperature. It also meant that they didn’t want to do anything that would make the room hotter.
Sam surveyed the contents of their little refrigerator, trying to find something for lunch. It sounds like Gordy’s conversation with his parents is winding down. Tuna. Tuna salad sounds nice and cool. And easy, too. A little Miracle Whip, a spoonful of sweet relish, some chopped onions, and it’s done.
Gordy walked into the front of the trailer with the phone to his ear and grinned at Sam. Good, another drama-free conversation.
“Okay, Mom. Love you, too.” There was another pause while Gordy nodded. He had Sam grinning when he was doing the ‘wrap it up’ sign with his finger. “I’ll tell Sam. Talk to you soon.”
Gordy made sure the call disconnected, laid his phone on the counter and ground his fists against his eyes. “Oh my gosh, I’m glad we’re a hundred miles away from the drama at Mom and Dad’s house.”
“And what were you suppose to tell me?”
“Oh, Mom said the stuff you sent was very helpful. She still doesn’t understand the distinction Jeff’s making, but she’s working on it.”
“Yeah, it’s sometimes tough for LGBTQ folks, too. Bisexuals are lumped with whoever they’re with, so if they’re with the opposite sex, they’re straight, and if they’re with the same sex, they’re gay. People don’t get it.”
“I’m working on it. I thought Jeff fucked anything.”
Sam stared at him and lifted an eyebrow. “That’s kind of stupid. You know your brother better than that.” He paused before shrugging. “I shouldn’t come down on you so hard. A few of the people in the GSA on campus explained about being bi. That helped me understand.”
Gordy sighed. “I know. I know. It’s just that it’s…well, Jeff.”
“Did you not notice how protective he was of Charlie?”
“Yeah, I noticed. I should at least cut him some slack.”
Sam diced the last of the onions and dumped all the ingredients into a bowl. He mixed in the other stuff while Gordy popped several slices of bread into the toaster. A little later they sat at the table and made sandwiches. They’d eaten quietly for a while when Sam’s mounting concern forced him to ask, “Did they say anything else about us? That last afternoon was taken up talking to the sheriff and getting Charlie moved into the spare bedroom. I wondered what they were thinking.”
Gordy considered for a minute. “They’ve had so much crap tossed at them that I think a gay son with a boyfriend is the least of their troubles. Charlie’s dad will go to jail, and since Charlie isn’t a minor, he can stay wherever he wants without needing to involve any courts. Of course, Jeff wants him there, but Mom and Dad aren’t thrilled with the live-in boyfriend.”
Gordy took another bite of his sandwich and stared into space while he chewed. Once he swallowed, Gordy turned to Sam. “I talked to the people at LGBT Services.”
“About?”
“Coming out.”
The short answers he was getting were annoying Sam. “Spill it, Gordy. You already told your parents and that went pretty well.”
He took a deep breath and let it leak out. “I can’t come out on campus. If I don’t have my scholarships, I’m screwed. They said that my coming out was mine, and it should happen however I feel the most comfortable. I was lucky with my family, and Hannah still isn’t happy.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“I think you should live here. We can’t be as open as we’d like, but I love you. Once I graduate, the sports scholarships won’t matter—whether I go Pro-ball or to grad school.” Gordy stopped talking, and the silence became thick as he refused to meet Sam’s eyes.
He realized Gordy was waiting for his response, but Sam had been thinking about this and knew his answer. “I’ve been checking, too, and talking with the LGBT Center Director. She said that coming out is different for each person and just because I was able to tell everyone to fuck off if they didn’t like it that doesn’t mean it’s the same for you. You took a huge chance telling your family and I think it was at least partially because of me. That was amazing. I think keeping your sexuality on the down low with the team isn’t unreasonable. I understand that you need your scholarships.” He chuckled a little before continuing. “It’s not like I can afford to be your sugar daddy.”
The tension leaked from Gordy like a bike tire ridden over goathead stickers. A cocky grin grew across his face and he leaned over the table and kissed the tip of Sam’s freckled nose. He paused for a moment before easing back to his seat then smiled at Sam. “So, you’re up to being my sugar daddy and living here?”
“I said you were too expensive as a rent boy…” Sam became coy. “And, yeah, I’m up to staying here. But what’re you going to tell the football team when they ask why you’re living with another guy?”
“It’s college! They know I’m broke. I need someone to help with expenses.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “And the sleeping arrangements?”
Gordy shrugged and grinned. “The sleeping arrangements are nobody else’s business. They shouldn’t be so nosy.”
“Yeah, you got nosy friends. What about Nate and Sarah?”
Gordy winked at Sam. “I’ve already talked to them. They invited us to dinner.”
Sam ate the last of his sandwich and shook his head.
“What?” asked Gordy.
Sam swallowed but paused for a few seconds before speaking. “You better be careful. You’re talking about living pretty out for someone who isn’t.”
Gordy stood up and stepped in front of Sam. “It’ll be fine. But about that whole rent-boy thing…”
Sam stared at Gordy’s package before licking his lips as he let his gaze travel up his boyfriend’s hard body. He stared at Gordy’s rugged face and melted inside. The dark scruff of their relaxed weeke
nd made Sam want him all the more. What he really wanted was to jump Gordy and the two of them fuck until they lay gasping for air, but he was afraid he’d have another panic attack. His counseling sessions did seem to be helping, but the whole thing was frustrating as hell.
Gordy moved closer, leaned forward and braced himself with a fist on either side of where Sam was sitting. If he was trying to turn Sam on, he was succeeding. The delicious aroma that was all Gordy left Sam’s pulse pounding in his ears and his equipment going stiff. It didn’t take long before the crotch of his jeans stretched tight. Gordy moved with gentle deliberation and cupped Sam’s face in his hands. He was lightheaded as Gordy kissed his bottom lip, first with tender attention then evolving to passion. Heat flashed over Sam’s face and left his ears burning as Gordy eased himself away until Sam focused on the handsome face in front of him.
He stood, wrapped his hands around the back of Gordy’s neck, and pulled them together. Sam pressed their lips firmly with a heat that continued to build. Then he tugged at Gordy’s shirt until it was untucked, then he dragged it up his lover’s chest. As he enjoyed the texture under his hands, he pressed the shirt higher until it popped free and he threw it across the room to land on the window. The expression on Gordy’s face matched the lust gathering inside Sam.
Sam shed his shirt and tossed it away. Before it hit the floor, he had put his jeans-covered legs around Gordy’s waist and his arms around Gordy’s neck. Their eyes met and Sam sensed the moment of passion.
“I want to try again,” Sam said.
“Babe, you sure?”
He swallowed hard and gave a quick nod. “Let’s try. I really want to try.”
Gordy dropped his hands lower and cupped Sam’s butt. He stared at Gordy for a moment before grabbing him in an embrace They kissed and their tongues dueled. Gordy ran his hand across Sam’s back, sending a tingle through him, and the comfort he experienced was like nothing he’d ever known before.
Their lips parted as they gasped for air and he whispered into Gordy’s ear, “Let’s go to the bedroom. I want to make use of those clean bills of health we have.”
