by Sara York
“Is there anything else he needs?”
“His drawing pad, I know he’ll need that. Let me ask? Wesley, anything else other than the computer and your sketch pad?”
“That’s enough. I’ll be fine if I have those two things.”
“Okay, that’s it. Thanks, Officer Stephens, we really appreciate this.”
He hung up and smiled down at Wesley. “You’ll have it in a bit over an hour.”
“I want to shower.”
“Go ahead. I’m here if you need me. Seriously, anything, I’m here.”
Wesley pecked him on the cheek and headed to the bathroom. Scotty sunk to the couch, letting his head roll back. He closed his eyes, and the memories from his past returned. The bruises Wesley had suffered reminded him of the marks he’d get every week when he’d be used by men he didn’t know. He knew the pain Wesley had suffered, and it scared the shit out of him. Images of his past blasted him, and he didn’t hear Wesley reenter the room. The touch to his shoulder scared the shit out of him, and he screamed. Wesley’s eyes were wide when he finally looked at him, and Scotty knew he’d screwed up.
He reached out and pulled Wesley close. “I’m so sorry, I—Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
Wesley stopped fighting his hold but didn’t relax. Scotty hated that his past was catching up to him. He’d had those memories locked quietly in a box for years, keeping the demons at bay, and now they were free to pillage his life. A knock at the door had them separating. Scotty stood to answer, glancing back at Wesley before unlocking and grasping the handle to pull the door open.
Stephens stood on the doorstep, bag in hand. “Here you go. Computer, notebook, and what looked like school books.”
“Thanks. We really appreciate it.”
“Can I come in?” Stephens lifted his eyebrows, his gaze hopeful. Scotty glanced over to Wesley, catching his slight nod.
To say that they were stressed would be an understatement. Having Stephens in the room took the pressure off Scotty. Not that he didn’t want to talk to Wesley alone, but so many conflicting thoughts raced through his brain. He’d never intended on telling a soul what had happened. Back then, the police had just assumed that his family had been a regular family—well, with the house and bedroom doors bolted, but they never really questioned him beyond the basics. He guessed they felt sorry for him, and he had clammed up rather quickly, avoiding telling the truth for fear of what would happen. His father had beaten it into him that if he ever told the truth, he’d lose his precious books. Even though his father had disappeared, he didn’t want to risk losing the library full of books. Back then, books had been his rescue…just like now.
“I wanted to tell you that the judge delayed the bail hearing for Aaron. His lawyer may argue for it tomorrow or the next day, but you’re clear now. When he does get out, if they grant him bail, which they probably will, we will need for you to get a restraining order.”
“Will that actually do anything?” Scotty asked.
“Yes and no.”
Wesley shivered and closed his eyes. “So this nightmare will never end.”
“Wesley.” Stephens stepped over to Wesley and placed his hand on his shoulder. Wesley flinched. “He will go to jail for what he did to Dustin. We’ll be able to get charges to stick for what he did to you too.”
“How is Dustin, and can I see him?”
“He’s hanging in there, but he’s still in ICU and unconscious.”
“Shit,” Wesley cursed.
Scotty placed his arm around Wesley’s shoulder, kissing him on the forehead. He could keep it together for his man, and he would, no question about it. “We’ll go by tomorrow after your classes.”
“Wesley, could I have your phone number? I’d like to call you if Aaron is released.”
“He could be released tomorrow?”
“No, probably not, but I don’t want to take the chance. If he is released, I want you to be warned so you can prepare yourself.”
“Could you call me too if he’s released?” Scotty asked.
“Sure. You two try to get some sleep tonight. It’s late and there’s not much left of the night, but sleep will do you both good. I’ll be talking to you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Wesley said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, thank you, Officer Stephens. We appreciate it. Have a good evening.”
The door closed, leaving him and Wesley to deal with their pain. He turned to his lover and sighed. “Wesley, can I hold you tonight—just holding, nothing more.”
Wesley nodded, and Scotty felt that they were making progress, at least a small step, not much, but each small step would get them where he wanted to go.
Chapter Seventeen
Wesley woke suddenly, wondering what the hell was happening. Another scream let loose, and he jumped, stretching for the lamp on the table beside the bed. With a quick twist of his wrist, light bathed the area. Beside him, Scotty was drenched with sweat, his face twisted in agony as he fought off attackers in his dream. He didn’t know if waking Scotty would help or hurt.
Scotty cried out again, and this time, Wesley couldn’t help but reach out to soothe him. “Scotty, are you okay?”
For a second nothing happened, but then Scotty jumped, sitting up, his eyes wide and full of fear. Wesley had never seen anyone wake up in such a state. He reached out and touched Scotty’s leg. The reaction was more than he’d been expecting. Scotty’s hand shot out, and it looked like he was going to knock his hand away, but then he shook his head and moaned.
“Hey, are you okay?” Wesley knelt in front of his man, smoothing his fingers down Scotty’s arms. “Babe, you’re shaking still.”
Scotty’s eyes were full of desperation as he stared up at Wesley. He shivered, and Wesley grasped onto Scotty’s arms firmly, pushing him to the mattress. Scotty fell back without hesitation, pulling Wesley with him. His legs settled between Scotty’s, and his head landed on Scotty’s chest.
“Bad dream?” Wesley asked.
The shudder that ripped through Scotty was enough of an answer. “Yeah, bad. I don’t like feeling like this.”
“Want to talk?”
“I should be the one taking care of you. I’m fine.”
“Scotty, you’re still shaking. If you want to talk, I’m here.”
Scotty rolled, pushing Wesley to the mattress. He stood, making his way to the bathroom. Wesley didn’t move for a second, then followed Scotty to the bathroom. “What’s up?”
Had Scotty turned to face him immediately, he wouldn’t have thought much of it, but he scrubbed his hand down his face and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
But it looked like Scotty did know. Their gazes met in the mirror, and Wesley was sure Scotty was lying. The attack had done a number on him, and he didn’t need Scotty acting this way. He wondered where he could go. He could call Jesse or maybe one of the other guys, but with Dustin in the hospital, his options were limited. He hated feeling trapped.
Scotty turned around and caught his gaze again. “I’m sorry. I just had a terrible dream. I’m okay.”
“It’s okay.” Wesley left the bathroom, heading to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water, stalling. Going home was impossible. Scotty being so mad earlier, and now this, left him feeling out of place.
“Wesley.” Scotty came up behind him and wrapped his arm around Wesley’s waist, pressing their bodies together. “I need you.”
“Didn’t seem to want me just a few minutes ago.”
“Babe, I’m sorry. I have some…God, I can’t talk about it.”
“Why can’t you talk about it?” Wesley pushed out of Scotty’s arms and spun around, searching for answers. But Scotty’s eyes were downcast, his expression shuttered. This was exactly what he didn’t need.
Scotty put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes, biting his lower lip. He stood still for a long time, emotions flowing over his face. His lips turned down, and wrinkles spread across his forehead.
&nb
sp; He opened his eyes, connecting with Wesley. “Soon, I just need time.”
Wesley didn’t understand. What could he possibly need time for? He’d been the one to be attacked, and yet here he was, trying to console Scotty. His anger must have shown on his face because Scotty dropped his arms and shuffled over, his lips curving slightly.
“I’m sorry. I’m being a dick. Let’s go back to bed, it’s—” Scotty turned to look at the microwave clock. “Shit, it’s only two in the morning.”
Scotty led him back to the bed, and he snuggled under the covers. He was okay with Scotty spooning him until he felt the man’s dick thicken. Scotty was kissing his shoulder and rubbing against him. He froze, unable to think of anything other than Aaron on top of him. Scotty stilled, but his cock remained pressing against Wesley’s backside, reminding him that he’d be expected to have sex eventually, and he didn’t know if he could.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Scotty rolled to his back, breaking their contact.
Wesley didn’t know what to say or if he should roll over and hug Scotty. Would that be sending mixed signals? Did he ever want to have sex with Scotty again—hell, did he ever want to have sex again? He let out a shuttering breath, wishing he would pass out and stop thinking. The silence was crushing; words needed to be said, but he was unable to come up with something that would help, so he stayed quiet, praying for sleep.
* * * *
The need for control wove through Scotty. The nightmare had been frightening. He’d been back in his father’s house, a man on top of him, hurting the hell out of him, and there was nothing he could do. Then Wesley woke him, and he’d been so frightened. If only he could do a scene, force some control on himself, he could come to terms with what had happened tonight. But Wesley wouldn’t want to do a scene. The man could hardly stand his touch.
Finally, after about an hour, Wesley’s soft snores filled the room. They were going to have a hard time overcoming the shit that Aaron had put on them. His standard answer wouldn’t work. Wesley had been wary of Barringers before this, no way would he be calm enough to even walk into the place, and no way in hell would Scotty show up there alone again.
At some point he fell asleep, thankful for the respite. The dreams didn’t return, but Wesley wasn’t in bed when he woke, which scared the fuck out of him. Without stretching, he jumped up, regretting the quick move. He stumbled into the bathroom but didn’t find Wesley. After a quick piss and a rinse with mouthwash, Scotty searched in the den and kitchen. No Wesley. He let out a shuttering breath, then saw the note on the table. Wesley had headed off to school.
“Fuck, what time is it?” He looked at the microwave, seeing that it was a little after nine. He’d called his boss last night and told her he would be in late, but he hadn’t expected Wesley to take off without him. Worry and fright got the better of him, and he was shaking by the time he grabbed for his coffee cup.
“Hell, I need to calm down.”
Scotty took a quick shower after a cup of joe and grabbed a bagel, popping it into the toaster to heat. Somehow he made it through the day without freaking out too much. He called Wesley twice, and both times he was dumped to voicemail. He left a brief message each time and was afraid to call back, knowing that if Wesley didn’t answer the third time, it would be bad. On the way home from work, he grabbed Chinese food, hoping he could appease Wesley with food.
When he entered his house, he was grateful to hear music playing. He set the food on the table and went in search of his man. Wesley was in the bathroom, his naked butt facing the door as he bent low, massaging lotion on his legs. His lean ass presented so beautifully with his balls hanging low caused Scotty’s dick to lengthen. This is what he always wanted—well, kind of. If he were truthful with himself, he’d admit that he wanted someone who cared about him. Small men turned him on, but Wesley’s heart made him fall in love, and he would give up the toned body for love any day.
“Hey, babe, I’m home.”
“Shit.” Wesley jumped and spun around, almost falling. His eyes were wide and fright showed in the depths. Scotty stalked forward, his need to control heightened because of yesterday’s events and the innocence he saw shining in Wesley’s eyes.
“Shh, I’m going to take care of you.”
“What if I don’t want to be taken care of?”
Scotty reached out and smoothed his hand down Wesley’s arm. He jerked back, making Scotty think of a bratty sub, and every dominant instinct came to life, willing him to quash Wesley’s rebellion.
He puffed out his chest and stood taller. “Don’t jerk away from me.”
“What?” Wesley snapped.
Anger blossomed inside and he stilled. He wanted to end the attitude, to force Wesley to obey, but that was the need for control speaking. Wesley had been through too much, and Scotty acting like an ass wasn’t going to fly.
Scotty stepped back and shook his head. “Wesley, I’m sorry. I don’t want things to be this way between us.”
“What way?” Wesley spit out as he yanked on his underwear. His movements were jerky and stilted. Wesley brushed past him and stopped at the bed, his shoulders rising with each breath.
Scotty closed his eyes and counted to ten. All of the tricks he’d learned over the last ten years were useless with Wesley. Telling Wesley what to do, forcing him to submit, wasn’t going to give them the long-term relationship Scotty wanted. Wesley was out of control, and Scotty needed to have control, but how the hell could Scotty explain his thoughts without revealing the truth of his past?
“I’m taking off. This isn’t working,” Wesley whispered.
“Please don’t go.”
“Why? So you can dress me up in some outfit like those guys at the club and force me to do as you wish? I’m not that way, and this, more than anything, showed me that I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to be weak. You have no fucking clue what this is like. I need to—”
“Actually, I do.”
Wesley stopped talking and cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows rising an inch or two. “What? How the fuck could you know? I was almost—the bastard almost raped me. He mauled me and tossed me around like a rag doll. He almost killed my best friend. How the fuck could you know what that is like?”
Scotty’s knees gave out, and he sunk to the floor, letting his head rest on his hands. He took two deep breaths before looking up and connecting with Wesley’s gaze. The story was his to tell, or he could play it cool as usual and allow Wesley to walk out of his life. Going deep meant getting hurt, and he didn’t want to get hurt again, but losing Wesley would be worse than opening up.
“I was—my father forced me to have sex with strangers. They were men who wanted to fuck pretty boys, just like Aaron wanted you.”
“What about you, do you like to fuck pretty boys?” Wesley was still angry, but his voice had softened, his question less accusation and more curiosity.
It still hurt, and if he were truthful with himself, he probably was stuck in a bad pattern, trying to exorcise some demons from his past by having sex with only small, very young-looking men. He hadn’t ever thought about it that way, but he probably was sick. But he liked Wesley, not only because of his looks, but who he was.
“I know it looks that way, and honestly, I had never even tied those two together.”
“The club—you do that because you like taking advantage of people?”
“No—God no. It’s not about…” There was no way to convince Wesley. No matter what he said, he’d turn out looking like a pervert who took advantage of young men.
“Did you even have feelings for me?”
“Wesley, I love you.”
“Because I let you spank me and tie me up?”
“Babe, I love you because you’re you. You’re amazing, and I love—”
“Don’t.” Wesley held up his hand, anger pouring off him. “I need time to think.”
“Wesley, I need you.”
Scotty watched helplessly as Wesley grabbed his
computer and books, shoving them into his backpack. “I can’t stay here.” He tugged on his clothes, putting on his shirt backward the first time. Scotty watched helplessly as Wesley fixed his shirt, wishing he could fix their relationship as easily.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. I need some time, and I’m not going to get it here.”
So many words blew through his brain, but he didn’t know what to say to make Wesley stay. A horn sounded outside, ripping through Scotty, cutting his heart out. Wesley had planned on leaving. He closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn’t make Wesley stay. No matter what he said or what he did, their relationship was lost to him.
Chapter Eighteen
The out-of-control feeling didn’t leave Wesley. Twenty-four hours slid past, then another day, and suddenly it was three days later and he wasn’t sure what he should do. Dustin was still in ICU, but they were planning on taking him off the medication that was keeping him in a coma. He should be there, but Dustin’s parents were in town, and he didn’t want to talk about the attack.
Dustin was on anti-viral drugs because Aaron was HIV positive. It freaked him out that he was that close to being raped by a guy who didn’t care that he might infect someone. Officer Stephens had asked him to come to the police station to deliver the news. He’d sat down in a private office and been told that the man who’d assaulted him, Aaron, was HIV positive, and that he needed to think very hard about that night and whether he'd been exposed. He’d cried for hours, wishing Scotty was with him.
Of course, just having Scotty close wouldn’t be enough. Wesley knew what the man wanted, and after being held down and assaulted, Wesley knew he would never be able to submit to Scotty like he wanted.
He’d been living in a friend’s dorm room, sleeping on the floor. That night, he’d have to go back to his apartment to retrieve clothes, but he wouldn’t stay there long, just long enough to grab a few shirts and pants before running off again.
His phone rang, and he checked the caller ID, seeing that it was Scotty. His heart stopped, and his head spun. If he answered, then he would cave, but if he didn’t answer this time, he might never get another shot at talking to the man he loved.
