by Ellis, Kay
Complaining loudly, I dragged on t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, and went to see who was bat-shit crazy enough to go disturbing my peace at such an ungodly hour on a Sunday morning.
Tony. That was who. He didn’t even look sorry, the bastard.
“Who is it, Boo?” Stef called out, although I noticed he was no hurry to get his arse out of bed and see for himself.
Tony raised his eyebrows and smirked a little. I would have to have words with Stef about using his soppy pet names for me in front of my boss. Or in front of anybody. Ever.
“It’s Tony,” I said over my shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Princess.”
“I think I’m going to puke.” Tony made gagging noises and held one hand to his mouth, the other clutching his stomach. Funny. I never knew he had a sense of humour. “You two are sickeningly sweet when you’re all loved up.”
“Deal with it,” I said gruffly. “No offence, boss, but what do you want?”
Suddenly, Tony turned serious, any trace of amusement at finding out Stef’s pet name for me was ‘Boo’ disappearing as though an internal switch had been flipped.
“You need to see this, son.”
Stifling the urge to remind him for the millionth time that I was not his son, I pulled my work boots onto my bare feet, leaving them unlaced as I followed Tony down the metal staircase. He stopped at the bottom and pointed.
“Look.”
At first, I didn’t realise what I was supposed to be looking at. Then my brain caught up with my eyes, and I stared in shock at the hateful words daubed in white paint all over his prized Jag. Queer. Faggot. Cock-sucker. Tony was none of those things, which meant he was not the intended victim. Whoever did this was targeting me. Maybe they had mistakenly thought it was my car they were vandalising. Maybe they didn’t care whose car it was so long as I saw the message.
But who would do it? And why? The only people who cared about my sexuality enough to try and kill me for it when I came out, were still in prison. Nobody else, namely my estranged father, gave a shit about me in the first place.
“You think this could be something to do with Stefan?” Tony asked.
“What? No, Stef wouldn’t do this. Besides, he was with me all night.”
“I’m not suggesting he did it,” Tony said, “but you said it yourself, there’s something going on with him. What if this is connected somehow?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
I didn’t want it to be true, because if it was a part of whatever shit was going on with Stef, then they now knew where we lived.
“I called the police,” Tony said. “They’ll want to talk to you.”
“What the fuck for? Come on, Tony, you can’t believe I had anything to do with this.”
“No, of course not, but I had to report if for my insurance. And, I’m sorry, Alex, but this isn’t exactly aimed at me, is it? It’s obviously intended for you and Stefan, and whoever did it got the wrong car.” He looked around, as if noticing for the first time that my pride and joy wasn’t parked in the normal spot. “Where is your car, anyway?”
“Still in the pound,” I said. “It’s not like I can afford to get it out, is it?”
“Alex?”
We both turned to see Stef standing at the top of the stairs, a blanket wrapped round his thin shoulders. Like an idiot, I stepped in front of Tony’s car, hoping Stef wouldn’t see the words spray-painted on the side of it. He saw anyway. Of course he did. I was big built, yeah, but not so big I could hide a whole fucking car from view.
“Oh God!” Stef’s eyes widened as he saw what was written on the car. Even from the bottom of the steps, I saw the colour drain from his already pale face. “Oh God, no!”
“Stef, what is it?”
I took the steps two at a time. As soon as I reached him, I pulled him into my arms. He was shaking like a leaf, and not just because he was cold. I pushed him inside and closed the door. Tony would come knocking when the police arrived, but I need to get Stef warmed up and calm downed before that happened.
“Stef, do you know who did this?”
“No!” He pulled away from me, shaking his head. “No, of course I don’t.”
“Are you sure about that? Could it be the same guy who smashed the salon window?”
“No, I don’t… I mean, how the fuck should I know, Alex? You’re the one with the homophobic friends. Not me.”
“What the Hell, Stef?”
I hadn’t seen my old friends for years, and he knew it, mainly because they were still in prison for attempting to murder the both of us. Everything that had happened in recent weeks had been aimed at Stef, not me, so how the fuck was any of it my fault?
Stef grabbed a black bin bag from under the kitchen sink, and began to hurriedly stuff his clothes into it. He was panicking, making me think maybe I should start worrying even more than I already was. I was used to being the biggest and the baddest guy in Stef’s life. Who the hell was this creep that Stef couldn’t trust me to protect him?
“Will you stop, please? Just for one minute?” I pulled the bag out of his hands. He tried to snatch it back, bursting into noisy tears when I held it out of his reach. “Tell me who this is, Stef. Let me sort it out.”
“No, you can’t! Please, Alex. I have to go. I have to get out of here.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”
“We can’t just go, Stef. The police are coming. Tony said they’ll want to talk to us.”
“No, Alex, no! Please don’t make me.”
He threw himself into my arms, clinging to me desperately as he sobbed. Shit. I had no choice, did I? All those people who thought I was the one who controlled this relationship needed to take a closer look. Stef called the shots. What Stef wanted, Stef got. Why the hell did anyone think I put up with that bitchy, little queen, Rufus, hanging around? But this was about more than some jumped up twink interfering in our relationship. Even in the early days, when things between us hadn’t been exactly stable, I had never seen Stef so upset and frightened.
Truth was, I didn’t want to talk to the police any more than he did. I knew from experience that they would take one look at my record and decide all of the crap happening around here was down to me.
“Alright,” I said, holding him at arms’ length to make him look at me. His eyes were puffy slits, his skin red and blotchy, while a shitload of snot and tears mingled freely on his elfin face. I didn’t look, but I could only imagine the state my t-shirt must be in after he’d blubbed all over it. “Wash your face and get dressed. Make it quick. We need to get out of here before the cops show up.”
While Stef cleaned up in the bathroom, I changed into jeans and a clean t-shirt, swapped my work boots for trainers, and dragged my fingers through my hair so I looked at least half way presentable. Stef emerged from the bathroom, and dressed quickly. Thankfully, he had the common sense to put on his own trainers rather than his favourite suede ankle boots without me having to say anything.
“How are we going to get past Tony?” he asked in a small voice.
Looking out of the small window above the kitchen sink, I could see Tony was still stood by his car. He had a phone to his ear and was talking animatedly. Whether he was on the phone to the police, or maybe even Marcie, I didn’t know, but it gave me an idea.
“Give me your phone,” I told Stef. “I don’t know if he has caller ID on his house phone, but if he does he’ll recognise my number.”
I scrolled through Stef’s contacts until I came across Tony’s landline number. Pressing the call button, I watched from the window as Tony raised his head and looked toward the house. A moment later, he disappeared inside, still talking to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
With the coast clear, although probably not for long, I grabbed Stef’s hand. We ran down the steps, across the gravel driveway and out onto the street, not slowing down until we were around a corner and out of sight.
Even though w
e were away from the house, Stef didn’t relax. He was on edge, eyeing every passing car nervously. I had a feeling he was looking for someone in particular. Someone he knew. Perhaps, someone who might be capable of putting a brick through a window and vandalising a car. I steered him through the car park of the gift shop and café, and we took the footpath down to the beach.
Away from the traffic, Stef finally took what seemed like his normal breath since he had seen the damage done to Tony’s car. He linked his fingers with mine, our hands hanging loosely between us as we strolled along the beach. We were in no hurry; had no place important to be. The breeze coming in from the water helped to clear our heads, and the few dog-walkers on the beach were far enough away from us that Stef was able to relax, and stop looking over his shoulder.
“Are you going to talk to me now?” I asked lightly.
“I can’t.”
“Stef, come on. You know I love you, right? I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to protect you.”
“What about me? Isn’t it my job to protect you too?”
“Is that what you think you’re doing?”
It had already crossed my mind that he had been keeping secrets to stop me from going after the other person. Stupidly, I thought he had been protecting them, not me. I thought he was trying to prevent them from getting hurt. Now I realised he was trying to prevent me from doing the hurting, trying to keep me out of trouble with the law. It wasn’t that easy, though. I’d mellowed since I’d been with Stef, but not that much. If someone came after him, I was going after them, because that was who I was. But then Stef knew that. He knew I wouldn’t let it go without a fight.
Once we neared the other end of the beach, closer to the road and the promenade, and where there were more people around, Stef dropped my hand and moved away from me. The physical distance though, was nothing compared to the mental and emotional one. It irritated me, but I was careful not to let it show, refusing to be cast in the role of big, bad Alex again.
It was weird though, given that from the day we met Stef had always been the out and proud one. I’d been the one who insisted our relationship was kept a secret in the beginning. I’d had good reason, knowing the people I mixed with back then would rather see me dead than gay. They’d tried too, when I finally told them about Stef. Now my former friends were serving prison sentences for attempted murder, I was openly living as a gay man, and Stef was the one acting like he wanted to go back into the closet.
We continued walking, taking Stef’s favourite route around the harbour and across the bridge to our favourite fish and chip shop. The smell alone was enough to make a man suddenly ravenous, even if he’d only recently finished a three course meal.
“I’ve still got some of Killigan’s money left if you’re hungry,” Stef said, peering through the window to see if there was an empty table.
I smirked at him. “Fancy getting your lips around a big, old sausage, do you?”
Stef turned to grin at me over his shoulder. “Only if it’s been battered first.”
“Ouch.” I put my hands over my nuts protectively. “Sounds painful.”
Stef laughed. “Come on, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you batter my sausage later.”
Okaaay! No conflicting messages there then. One minute he didn’t want to be seen with me. The next he was making sex jokes. Well, colour me confused. Still, this playful Stef was the man I knew and loved, and I preferred him to miserable, nervous Stef any day of the week.
The food was good. The company was better. Stef was silly and funny, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world. I wished I could relax too, but I couldn’t. Not fully. Watching him clown around, I had to wonder how much of it was real and how much was a desperate attempt on his part to appear normal. Once we left here, how long would it before he pushed me away and got all secretive again?
We stayed in the café as long as we could after we finished eating, both of us reluctant to leave this cosy little bubble and return to the real world. They were busy though, and needed the table so it didn’t seem fair to string it out for too long. Eventually, we had no choice other than to begin the long walk home. Stef was soon on edge again.
“Do you think the police will still be there?” he asked anxiously, as we got closer to home.
“I doubt it,” I reassured him. “It’s only a vandalised car, after all. I expect they’ve got bigger and better crimes to worry about.”
“You don’t think Tony will fire you over this, do you?”
The ‘again’ was left unspoken. I couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed my mind. It might only be a case of vandalism in the eyes of the law, but that car was Tony’s pride and joy. He’d probably try to find a way of blaming me for what had happened, especially since I’d run out on him before the cops arrived. I didn’t want Stef worrying about it though.
“Nah,” I said flippantly. “He wouldn’t dare. Marcie would kill him.”
“I can talk to him if you want,” Stef offered. “I’ll tell him it was my idea to pull a disappearing act.”
“Thanks, babe, but there wouldn’t be any point. Out of the two of us, nobody’s going to believe you were the one who didn’t want to talk to the cops.”
We turned into the end of our road and Stef froze. I looked from him to the street, half expecting to see the police waiting for us at the end of Tony’s driveway. It was what we had been talking about after all. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary though.
Stef broke into a run and I chased after him. He turned into the gate and raced for the safety of home. I watched as he clattered up the metal staircase and slammed the door behind him. Once he was inside, I turned back to the street, scanning for whatever or whoever had frightened him so badly.
On the opposite side of the street from Tony’s house, there was an old blue Ford Escort parked at the kerb. A man sat behind the wheel, but I got no real sense of what he looked like beyond his baseball cap and dark glasses. I started across the road toward the car.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you want with Stef?”
The engine roared, and the tyres squealed as the car sped away from the kerb. I leapt out of the way, narrowly avoiding being hit by the front bumper. I slammed my fist against the side of the car in fury, and trust me when I say punching a speeding tonne of metal is never going to end well. I yelled out in pain and anger, clutching my hand to my chest as I watched the car disappear around the corner without slowing.
Tony came out of the front door as I crossed the courtyard.
“Alex, I need to talk to you.”
“Not now,” I snapped back without so much as looking at him.
I took the stairs two at a time, ran inside and locked the door behind me so Tony couldn’t follow. Stef was sat on the sofa, hugging his knees to his chest. I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay, but the time for pussy footing around this whole fucked up mess was over. I had to get tough with him. I had to be the man everybody thought I was anyway.
“Tell me,” I said. “Tell me the fuck who that was.”
10
“I can’t.”
“Fuck that!” I clenched my fists at my sides. My right hand hurt like a bitch from hitting the car. I might even have broken something, but I’d worry about that later. Getting a straight answer from Stef was the priority right at that moment. “Tell me, Stef. Did you sleep with him? Is that what this is about? You fucked him, and now he’s back for me?”
“God, no!” Stef looked so horrified by the idea that I had no problem believing him. It proved though, once and for all, that he knew who the guy was that was following him.
“What then?” I leaned over him, ignoring Tony’s frantic banging on the door. “I swear, Stef, neither of us is leaving this room until you tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“No!” Stef slipped out from underneath me and ran over to the dresser. He began frantically pulling his clothes out of the drawers. “I can’t stay here. I’m leaving. Going
back to London.”
“Like Hell you are.” I snatched a shirt from his hands and threw it onto the floor. “You’re staying right here with me. I can protect you, Stef. Whatever this is, I can help you. I’ll sort it. You just need to trust me.”
“I do trust you.” He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and sniffed.
“Oh, great. Here come the tears,” I said, irritably. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. It was like clockwork, the way he burst into tears whenever he didn’t get his own way. “Well, it isn’t going to work. You’re not going anywhere.”
“It’s only for a few days,” Stef snivelled. “I’ll come back.”
“So, what? Are you going to Killigan’s? You trust him, but you don’t trust me?”
“No, I told you… I do trust you.”
“Then why…? Oh, I get it,” I said coldly. “It’s not Killigan you want to see. It’s Rupert. He’s still staying with Marcie and Killigan, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is. And it’s not Rupert. It’s Rufus. We’re just friends. You know that.”
“I know he’s in love with you.”
“Alex, don’t. Please…” Stef ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He sighed heavily. “He’s my best friend. Why won’t you give him a chance?”
“Because he’s never given me one.”
I shook my head, hardly able to believe what I was hearing. I’d watched bloody Rufus mooning over my boyfriend for the past two years. I’d listened to him, time and time again, trying to turn everyone against me. He’d accused me of beating him up, telling people I’d been there even though he knew I hadn’t. He’d pushed and provoked, every time I saw him, trying to get a reaction out of me; and he tried, more times than I could count, to split up me and Stef. Yet I was the one to blame for the fact we didn’t get along? Give me a break.
