Cherished

by Sara York

  “I’m not sure. I was on the phone, and I heard some noise. I left the bedroom and found him—Aaron—forcing Dustin to have sex. He already had blood on him—Dustin, that is. Then Aaron saw me and chased me down. Dustin tried to stop him, but he hit Dustin.” Wesley started crying again. The police officer handed Wesley a tissue, and he blew his nose. “God, if he dies, I’ll never…” The tears wouldn’t stop this time. The police officer gave him some space, but what he really needed was Scotty.

  “Okay, I think the paramedics are ready to take you. I’ll need to talk with you again. My name is Brad Stephens, and I’m an officer with the Savannah Police Department. I’ll stop by the hospital in a bit.”

  “Can Scotty come with me?”

  “I think it would be best if he drove his own car to the hospital.”

  Wesley nodded, though he didn’t think it would be best to wait to see his man. Officer Stephens left his side as the paramedics helped him crawl onto the gurney, making sure he stayed covered the entire time. He asked for clothes, but the paramedics said they needed to preserve the evidence—whatever that meant—and he’d be given clothes once they were done at the hospital.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Scotty shook with rage and fear as he stood outside of Wesley’s apartment. They wouldn’t let him see his man, and that scared the shit out of him. The cops said it was a crime scene. How bad was Wesley? No one would tell him a thing, and he was about ready to blow a gasket when the door opened and a cop stepped out, his gaze settling on Scotty, the only civilian on the inside of the yellow crime scene tape. The officer squared his shoulders and approached, nodding to the cop that had been babysitting Scotty since he arrived five minutes ago.

  “Philip, I need to speak with Mister Fuller alone.”

  “Yes, sir,” the cop said before he left, heading back to a spot at the yellow tape.

  “Mister Fuller, I’m Officer Stephens.”

  “How’s Wesley? I need to see him.”

  “You will. The paramedics are loading him onto a gurney and getting him ready for transport.”

  “Oh God.” Scotty’s hands shook, and his knees were weak.

  “He’s going to be fine. Wesley was very lucky. Calling in the information when you did was key.”

  “Was he—did the bastard…?”

  Stephens glanced at the apartment, then back to Scotty, holding his gaze. “I can’t go into the details, but your boyfriend is lucky. He has some bruises and a few cuts, but he’s going to be okay.”

  “Are you saying he—” The door opened and a paramedic walked out, followed by two more pushing a gurney. “Wesley?”

  “No, that’s Dustin. Scotty,”—Stephens got between him and the apartment, blocking his view of the door—“when they bring Wesley out, I need you to remain calm. Tell him you’ll drive your car over. I know you want to go with him, but I’m riding with him, and you’ll want your car once he’s been released.”

  “Do you think they’ll let him leave tonight?”

  “It depends on if he has a concussion or not.”

  Stephens stepped to the side, and Scotty saw two more paramedics with a gurney. “Oh God.”

  “Stay calm. Let’s go talk to him.”

  Scotty tried to hold it together, but the second Wesley saw him and burst into tears, he couldn’t hold back. He bent over the gurney and hugged Wesley, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. After holding Wesley for almost a minute, he straightened up and stared into his lover’s eyes, unable to speak. It was as if they were the only two people on the planet. All the noise died away as they gazed into each other’s eyes. He had to be strong for his man. The darkness threatened to overwhelm him, but he held it together. There were visible bruises, but he had to ignore them or risk going ballistic, and Wesley needed him to stay calm.

  “Wesley, I’m going to drive my car and follow right behind the ambulance. I’ll be there once you’re in the emergency room. I swear I won’t leave your side.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Wesley begged.

  The pleas from Wesley’s lips ripped his heart out, leaving him shattered. “Babe, I’ll be right behind the ambulance.”

  “Wesley,”—Officer Stephens was beside them—“I’ve asked Scotty to drive his own car. That way you have a way home from the hospital.”

  He didn’t like the idea of leaving his man alone, but he needed to stay strong. “Babe, I won’t leave you, ever. But right now, I need to drive my car behind the ambulance. I’ll stay with you the entire time once you hit the ER. Be strong for me, can you do that?”

  Tears filled Wesley’s eyes and his lips trembled. Scotty could tell he was trying hard to be brave. After a long moment, he let go of a shuttering breath and nodded once. Scotty had never before felt so proud of another person. He dropped a quick kiss on Wesley’s forehead and let the paramedics take him away to the ambulance.

  Stephens turned to him, his gaze solid as he looked Scotty in the eyes. “I picked up a pair of shorts and a shirt for him. I would have let you pick something for him, but we still have to have the apartment secured. We’ll probably be able to release the apartment by tomorrow. Can he stay with you tonight if they release him from the hospital?”

  “I won’t let him out of my sight for weeks. I doubt I’ll ever let him leave—well, that is if he wants to stay, but yeah, he has a safe place to stay.”

  “So the man who attacked him, Aaron Ellison, did you know him?”

  Scotty went cold, and his whole body shook with anger. “Aaron? Fuck!”

  “I take it that you do know him.”

  “Yes, but what the hell was he doing here?”

  “I can’t say much more, but I’ll want to talk to you. Did he know Wesley?”

  “Not well. He’s a bastard and…hell, it’s difficult to explain.”

  “Excuse me,” the paramedic called out to Stephens, “we need to head out.”

  “We’ll discuss this later.”

  Stephens stepped into the ambulance with Wesley and the paramedic. Scotty wanted to be there with his man. Now that he knew the attacker was Aaron, Scotty was fucking pissed off. He wanted blood. The cop had alluded to the fact that Wesley hadn’t been raped, but he wouldn’t feel right about any of this until he heard straight from Wesley that the fucking bastard hadn’t touched him. He’d fucking kill Aaron if he had.

  On the ride over, he thought about calling Barringers and telling Bill what happened, but he didn’t want to damage the police investigation. Instead, he chewed his bottom lip and raced behind the ambulance, sticking close to the tail, hoping and praying that his Wesley was going to be okay.

  * * * *

  Wesley closed his eyes, trying to keep it together as he waited for Scotty to show up. Stephens had been in and out twice from the room where they’d stuck him. He heard the sharp staccato click of the man’s shoes. He didn’t want to talk to the cops again; he wanted Scotty there to hold him.

  The door squeaked, and he opened his eyes, seeing Scotty beside the police officer. He sat up and tried to jump off the bed, but the monitor hooked up to his arm pulled tight, stopping him from getting to his man. Scotty took two big steps and was beside him, holding him close.

  Tears came hard and fast. He’d wanted to be calm when Scotty showed up, but he’d lost it the second they came in contact. All of the fears from while Aaron had him captive surfaced, and he shivered, his brain going fuzzy. He hadn’t thought of Dustin until now, but suddenly he needed to know.

  “Dustin—what happened?” Wesley searched out Stephens’s gaze.

  Stephens cleared his throat and stepped close to the bed. “He’s in ICU right now. I’ll go check on him in a bit. Wesley, are you ready to talk more about what happened?”

  He leaned away from Scotty but didn’t break contact. Maybe he could talk about it, he didn’t know. Everything was so confusing. “Okay, I guess.”

  “I’m going to turn on this recorder, and I want you to tell me everything that happened.”

 
; Wesley held Scotty’s hand as he started talking, describing everything from the moment he realized there was a problem. Scotty flinched when he spoke about finding Aaron standing over Dustin. Then when he told Stephens about Aaron stripping him, he thought Scotty was going to crack a tooth. Retelling the story was difficult, leaving him totally drained. After he finished, Stephens turned off the recorder and smiled down at him.

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll have more questions later. Why don’t you rest, and we’ll see what the doctor thinks about getting you out of here. You’ll be staying with Scotty, right?”

  Wesley hadn’t thought about where he’d stay. He glanced up, and Scotty nodded. “Yes, I’ll be with him.”

  With that decision made, he lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes. The mattress dipped, and he opened one eye. Scotty had crawled up on the bed to lay down with him. He scooted over and lifted up, letting Scotty slip his arm under his head. The bruises hurt, and his body ached, but he needed to be near Scotty. They said nothing for a long time, just held each other. Wesley drifted off to sleep but woke up when he felt Scotty leave his side.

  “Scotty?” He tried to sit up, but the groggy feeling won, keeping him flat on his back.

  “Hi, I’m Doctor Wilkes.” The doctor wore green scrubs, his face serious. “It looks like you have a minor concussion but not enough to keep you overnight. Though you're bruised, I don't think anything is broken. And it looks like you have someone to take care of you, so we’ll be sending you home in a bit. First, the police photographer needs to take a few shots of your injuries. Would you like to have your friend with you, or do you want him to leave during this process?”

  Wesley turned his gaze on Scotty, wondering why the doctor would even suggest Scotty leave. “No, he needs to stay.”

  “Okay, I’ll call the police photographer in. He needs to take photos of everything. After he takes the shots, you can get dressed. I’ll start the paperwork to get you dismissed, and then you can go home. You need to check in with your regular physician day after tomorrow. You’re very lucky.”

  The door opened, and Officer Stephens walked in. "Are we almost ready for the photographer?"

  "Yes, if you could ask for him," the doctor said.

  Stephens stepped into the room and placed a call, his voice low so Wesley couldn’t hear him. He hung up quickly.

  “Excuse me, Doctor, how is Dustin—my roommate?”

  The doctor glanced away and shook his head. “He’s not conscious yet, and he’ll have to work at recovering, but he should make it.”

  Wesley sucked in a breath, his body shaking as he tried to hold it together. Scotty was there, holding him close, kissing his hairline, and stroking his back. Dustin would be devastated. Now he knew the bruise to his face wasn’t caused by a fall.

  “Um…” He had to say something. He glanced at Stephens, who stepped closer.

  “Yes?” Officer Stephens’s brows rose and bunched together.

  “He had a bruise on his cheek.”

  “What?” Scotty asked.

  Wesley swallowed and thought about the bruise he’d questioned. “I was at Scotty’s for a while, but I came home and saw that Dustin had a bruise on his face. He told me he fell. I didn’t believe him.”

  “Why didn’t you believe him?” Stephens asked.

  “He was acting weird. I asked about the bruise, and he turned white. I was suspicious. He told me to drop it. I went to study, and then someone knocked on the door—I should have gone to check on him, but he said he’d answer it. I had no idea. I could have helped him.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. If you’d been in there with Dustin, you have no idea what would have happened.”

  “Wesley.” Scotty stroked his cheek, and he looked up, whimpering at the look in Scotty’s eyes. “Babe, if Aaron would have seen you first, he probably wouldn’t have let anything get in the way of taking you.”

  Tears threatened to fall again, and then the police photographer walked in. His huge camera hung around his neck with a monster-sized flash on the top. “Hi, I’m Chris. I’ll be taking some photographs to document your condition. So before we get started, would you like me to clear the room?”

  Wesley looked at Scotty and reached out, grasping his hand. “He has to stay.”

  “Okay. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  With each bruise revealed, Scotty’s anger grew. He wanted to punch someone or something. At one point, he thought he was going to have to leave the room. Aaron was lucky to be still locked up. Hurting the man seemed the only solution, but attacking Aaron wouldn’t solve the problem. It would only get him in trouble, and that type of trouble would leave Wesley vulnerable.

  So each time Wesley sought out his gaze, he smiled encouragingly, holding his lover’s hand when it didn’t interfere with the photographer and trying like hell to stay calm. He didn’t succeed very well, and by the time the photographer had finished, he needed a drink.

  The doctor left, the photographer left, and finally Stephens left, giving them some privacy. Meeting Wesley’s gaze was difficult, and when he finally did, he saw the doubt shining bright.

  “Will you ever be able to look at me again?”

  Scotty blew out a breath, his shoulders slumped, and he had to fight the urge to shake his head, not because he wouldn’t be able to look at Wesley, but because he was so angry with himself.

  “Wesley, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you.”

  “I’m an adult.” Wesley’s voice was hard and edged with anger.

  “I know you are, but I love you, which means I want to protect you, and I failed. I heard…”

  “Oh God, you didn’t hang up?”

  “No, I didn’t. I heard you scream.”

  Wesley closed his eyes, and Scotty feared he was going to lose his lover. The attack had been his fault because he’d introduced Wesley to Aaron. He needed to change their path, to make this right, but he didn’t know how or what to say. He held Wesley’s hand, praying that some surge of brilliance would hit him, and he’d be able to deal with the issue.

  “I need to get dressed.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “No, I want some privacy.”

  The words hurt, but Scotty complied, stepping out of the room, wondering if the damage was irreparable. This is what Aaron wanted. Scotty would lose Wesley, and there seemed to be nothing he could do. He still had time to make it right, but he’d need to salvage what they had tonight, before Wesley left his house and found someone else to lean on.

  The door cracked open behind him, and he plastered on as real of a smile as he could. The next twenty-four hours would determine if they could make it as a couple.

  Wesley wouldn’t meet his gaze, which worried Scotty. He had to change this and now. “Wesley, I love you, and I’m angry at myself. Please don’t shut me out. I don’t know how to not be angry, but I’m not angry at you.” Nothing was said, his lover stayed silent, not one word. “Wesley, please, I’m begging you.”

  His hand went up, stopping Scotty’s babbling, but he still didn’t utter a word. Fuck, he was screwed, and any wisdom he had fled, leaving him unable to come up with a solution. The nurse came in with papers for Wesley to sign, and they headed outside, Scotty aching because Wesley wouldn’t say anything. He could tell Wesley was hurting too, and he wanted to take all of that hurt and anger from his lover, making everything right, but nothing would ever be right again if Wesley left him.

  Once in the car, Scotty wondered if the silence would break, but Wesley stared out the window, not glancing his way once. He’d made a mess of it, letting his anger show when the photographer was there. Finally, when they pulled up at Scotty’s house, Wesley’s hand slid to his knee, and excitement raced through Scotty. He gazed at Wesley, hopeful they could come to some sort of an understanding.

  “I just need time.”

  “Whatever you need. You do want to stay with me, right?”

  Wesley nodded, his e
yes once again filling with tears. “I want…”

  “I’m here for you.”

  “I need to be held tonight.”

  “Babe, of course.”

  “Oh shit.” Wesley stopped cold, and Scotty’s heart stopped.

  “What?”

  “My homework. It’s back at my apartment.” His eyes were wide and panic filled.

  “I’ll call Officer Stephens and see what can be done.”

  “Do you think they’ll let me go in to get it?”

  “I don’t know. Let me call.”

  They entered the house, and he dialed the police officer’s number, praying he could get the papers for Wesley. If he accomplished nothing else, he needed to make sure Wesley had what he needed for school. The phone clicked, signaling that it had been answered.

  “Officer Stephens here.”

  “Hi, this is Scotty Fuller, Wesley’s friend.”

  “Hello, can I help you with something?”

  “I hope so. His schoolwork—”

  “And my computer,” Wesley called out.

  “And his computer were at the apartment. He needs them.”

  “Normally, they would be evidence. Let me see what we can do. I’ll call you back.”

  Scotty hung up and checked to make sure the ringer on his phone was on. “He’ll call back. He said that that stuff is normally held as evidence.”

  “My computer? I need that.”

  “I know, and we’ll make sure you get it. Do you have the numbers for your professors?”

  “In my computer.”

  “Sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come here.” Scotty held open his arms and was relieved when Wesley came to him and leaned against his chest, allowing Scotty to gently hold him until the phone rang.

  Scotty picked up his phone and swiped the screen to talk. “Hello.”

  “Scotty, I think I might have some good news.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I can get the computer released in about an hour from evidence, and I’ll drive it to your house. I have your address from earlier.”

  “Good.”