by Jack L. Pyke
“You fuck, Elliot.”
All of his paperwork was marked; he’d been bound and blindfolded upstairs, and Elliot had sat here, marking E-papers.
“You fucking fuck, Elliot.”
Will gave a violent shove at the table, scraping it over tile, and nearly sent the laptop over the edge. He didn’t even waste time waiting to see if it hit the floor. Car keys digging into his palm, Will pushed outside, taking the small steps two at a time and getting into his Rover. The ignition was easy enough to find, even in the dark, but the note attached to the steering wheel? Will almost missed it, his hand sweeping over and nearly knocking the yellow sticky note off. After peeling it off his fingers, Will then switched on the interior light and narrowed his eyes.
Clear your head before you drive back home. Stay safe. Please.
Love, Elliot.
Always.
A snarl, Will screwed the paper up, set down his window, and tossed it. After shifting his gears into reverse, Will backed out, then home became the furthest destination on his mind.
For the hours it took Will to reach Elliot’s home, life became surreal beyond the blackness of his car windows. He shouldn’t have been driving, he knew that much. The street lights blended into single lines, making them more like death orbs running alongside of him, all life and malicious intent in the innocence of colour. Cat’s eyes and the occasional thud, thud-thud as he ran over them lulled him back into his bed, but the lack of life tied him back down to it, needing more sleep than ever, and every now and again it would take his slam of fist into the steering wheel to drag him into reality again.
It was well into dawn by the time Will pulled up outside Elliot’s home, just a few doors down from his own, and with that For Sale sign now replaced with Sold. The heat-warmed tarmac, already promising another gorgeous day, and a moving van sat there sunbathing, not showing any impatience with being made to wait on the driveway. A few boxes were already piled high inside, but nobody was on Elliot’s drive. That day back then, had Elliot heard him shouting at Ryan? At James? Now, the only offer of movement came from inside the house, or more the lounge, as Elliot’s front door stood open.
After parking the Rover so the van couldn’t pull off the drive, Will let the engine die, then grabbed at his keys before pushing out. He followed the sound of voices moving from living room to the kitchen, and he made a mental note that two people were opening cupboard doors and shuffling things about.
Elliot caught sight of him before he made it into the kitchen. Having just unplumbed the washer, Elliot pushed to his feet. There was a moment he went to say something, then Will was going for him with every intent of making sure he never said another word.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
Will had no idea where he came from, but the biggest mother of all men grabbed his arms, pulling him back and stopping him going for Elliot.
“Will, just listen—”
“You don’t,” shouted Will at Elliot. “You.” He cried out, mostly in anger as he tried to get free from the huge arms. “What gave you the fucking right to—”
“Oh-kay,” said the man behind, and Will found he was pulled away, out of the kitchen and into the living room. Pushed inside, Will then skidded to a halt. It took only a moment for him to be back by whatever freak of nature was there trying to stop him from getting at Elliot.
“How about you calm it down, Mr. Chambers. You just—”
Will stopped and closed his eyes, now tilting his ear. At first heat filled his cheeks, the knowledge that this man had seen him naked, that he had been there when Elliot—
Will groaned out loud just as Elliot eased past the Voice and rested back against the doorframe.
“Will—”
“Don’t.” Will held a finger up to silence Elliot. “Your new friend there is going to give me his name,” he said. “He’s going to give me his name, and then he’s going to tell me what gave him the goddamn right to help tie me down to a fucking bed.”
The Voice held out his hand. “Colm Jennings.” Will just stared at the offering. “We all actually went to school together but you obviously kept your head hidden away from Elliot, in too many books, to remember. And the fact you’ve hurt a very good friend of mine gives me every right.”
Will couldn’t get his head around that reply. “Shall we see how far that friendship goes when you’ve been sharing a cell with him for a few years?”
Colm shrugged and dug big hands in his pockets. “Yet you’re here, on your own, Will.” He leant back against the wall. “Where are the police?”
“Fuck you.” Will looked from Elliot, back to Colm. “Fuck you both.”
Colm sighed, then looked at Elliot. “See what you mean about him picking up the language. It doesn’t suit him.”
“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me and—” Colm’s big rugby form came back into focus some more, how Elliot sometimes came out from its shadow to poke at Will, like Colm had been some dark soul’s cloak, ready to hide him. Yeah. They had been friends. Good friends.
There was more noise behind the door, someone coming downstairs, maybe juggling a box. “Elliot, where do you want this one— ”
“Oh fuh—” Will laughed, then his hands went to his head. “Jake?” Sweet Jake, always looking as though he’d been on the verge of saying something, standing there at the bottom of Will’s drive with an eye for James’s motorbike. Sweet, sweet Jake. Will threw his hands out, things clicking together a little more now. “You— you too?”
Jake stopped there in the doorway, his eyes a little startled at first, then almost instantly softening as he shifted the weight of the box he held. “You okay? You look rough.”
“Rough?” Will didn’t believe any of this shit. “You…” He frowned, some in anger, mostly just hurt now. “What the hell did I do to you?” Will had given Jake the address of the log cabin, where he’d been going, how long he’d be there, when he’d get back. And with Elliot’s local knowledge of Dorset, of knowing the paths Will took at the cabin… “You?”
“I saw you two together when I played at the bar 1725, and also watched Elliot come and go from yours whilst James was with Ryan away from your house,” said Jake. “Then I watched what happened to you when you stopped letting Elliot in.” He offered a sad smile. “So, yeah. Me too.”
“Leave us alone, yeah?” Elliot glanced at Colm and Jake as he took a few steps towards Will. “Your problem is with me, Will.”
Choking a laugh, Will glared back at Elliot. “My problem?” Will pushed him back, then pushed him again until Elliot was up against the wall. “You tied me up and fucked with my head, not the other way around.”
“What didn’t you tell James about 1725, Will?”
“Huh?” That cut him short.
“What didn’t you tell James?”
Will jerked at the shout. “About us,” he shouted back. “I didn’t tell him about us, how we kissed there for the first time.”
Elliot snorted coldly. “Ryan…” His eyes flared. “He hated me for my anger that night James fell, saying it was nothing unusual for me to lose it and cause all the shit. But you…” Elliot smiled, but he wasn’t happy. “Ryan said he understood your reaction. He said everything was a shock, you finding him there and touching James. And little Will Chambers, he never loses his temper or resorts to foul language, now does he?” Elliot folded his arms. “So every time I’ve tried to comfort my son, to talk to my son, I’m met with silence, all because I was the one who spooked you over what the neighbours might think. I see it in his eyes, how Ryan hates how I’d put that in your head— how James died because of those fears. Only little Will knew about them already, about all the complications. He stood there before that at the bike show day and swore that we were over, that he was going to tell James about us and push everything we had away so they could have a future— so you could have a future with James. “Elliot pushed Will back. “Why didn’t you tell James about us, Will? Why didn’t you let him know why y
ou freaked out at them touching? How their secret would lead to a whole host of supposed dirty family secrets that could have had him taken away in your eyes?”
“Because I loved you too much,” he shouted. “Because I went home that night from work and kept my mouth shut thinking James would get it out of his system— because for the first time, the very first fucking time, the father lost out to the lover in me, and I wanted both of you!”
Elliot came in hard, fast, cupping Will’s face, but forcing him back with the violence of it, the grip nearly threatening to break bone. “You needed to say it— I needed to hear you say it,” he snarled, “because for the past six months, you’ve been stuck in the same place, repeating the same moments over and over again like a glitch on a transcript recording— but you’ve kept me right there with you, you bastard. Everyone— I’ve had everyone look at me like the bully you put me back into. I lost my son; I lost James too, I lost you, and you—” Will was forced back another step. “You had a grave to grieve beside; me— I’m caught in some screwed-up limbo land where I see my son— you— but like my calls, you both don’t hear me no matter how loud I cry. Not as a father— not as a lover, not as anything but a forgotten dirty secret.”
Will felt a tear slip free. “Why… Why didn’t you just tell him?”
“You think he’s given me the time of day to try and explain anything? Have you looked outside of your world at all over the past six months? You’ve sorted his new flat. You’ve sorted his grants.” Will’s grief ignited Elliot’s and this time the tear that fell was his. “You lost your boy and took mine, Will. I didn’t deserve that.”
A glare of anger sparked. “You could have told him.”
“You should have told him.”
Will jerked slightly at the cry. “For godssake, Elliot. I’m sorry. You… he… he’s just been so quiet when it came to James. I didn’t push. I didn’t ask. I just wanted him to know I was there. Why the hell didn’t you say anything…”
“And do what?” Elliot calmed himself. “Have him be alone and lose you, too, when I know you’re damn well good enough to help look after him when he won’t let me near him? Who do you take me for?”
Knocking Elliot’s hands away, Will grabbed Elliot to him. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know he’d blamed you; he was just so angry that you’re moving— trying to push him to forget James right along with it, and I’m sorry, so sodding sorry, but you—” Will yelled out and held on tight. Then he pushed him back. “But James— he was mine to let go of when I chose, you bastard— not you.” Will fought so hard not to let his grief spill, and failed miserably. “For godssake. Here.” He tapped his head. “It’s all I’ve got left of him. And you—”
“What?” said Elliot, just standing there and taking it. “I what?”
Will moved back into Elliot and wrapped his arms around his neck, his head now resting against Elliot’s. “You arranged to have me kidnapped; you risked your career, your friends, our neighbour. Me…” Will screwed his eyes shut and shifted slightly, pressing his head harder against Elliot’s to stop the hurt. “I couldn’t even reach out and catch a scared boy when he fell.”
“That. It wasn’t—”
“Worst kind of hurt, Elliot.” Will kissed at his neck, trying to bury the grief that tore at his body then. “Losing James— you… Christ. I didn’t want to lose anyone. I wished to God so many times that I hadn’t lost anything.” He pushed away a touch and ran a thumb along the stubble on Elliot’s jaw. “Stay with me, please.”
Elliot pulled away, he turned away. “No, Will.” He sounded so flat. “We’ll tear each other apart.”
Will went and stepped in front of him. “You say that to my face, and you damn well mean it.”
Elliot glanced at the window, the removal van outside, and so much seemed to play in his eyes. Then he looked back.
“I hate you for what you’ve done, Will. I was ready to settle, with Ryan, James… you. And you threw me away without a second glance, and I lost my son for it.” A hand pulled a set of keys free, and Elliot twisted them in his fingers “I’d tear you apart until you cried hurt again.”
Will searched his eyes, saw it all there too, and giving a wipe at his mouth, he nodded.
“Okay. Okay.” Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he grabbed Elliot’s wrist with his free hand. “One last stop, then you go.”
Will tugged him toward the front door, out onto the driveway, and down to his Rover.
CHAPTER 9
NEED YOUR LOVE
For a moment life spun, and Will scowled at his Rover as he bypassed it. He’d already put a text through, and getting a hard tug back off Elliot as he dragged him forward, Will headed for his own drive.
“Hey— hey,” Colm shouted behind them, arms out wide. But the protest was lost to the passing of a car and the strange glances coming out of the car window.
Will made it to his own drive and cut over the garden, ignoring the empty car space. A look back saw Elliot’s gaze never wavering from the motorbike that watched the tug of war from its own corner of the boxing ring, but then as they reached the front door, the deep groan and hard pull out of the grip on Elliot’s wrist was broken.
Will was forced to a stop with how Elliot stood a breath away from the front step, from how the milk bottles now sat in a milk crate, all safe and ordered.
“I know, I know. It’s all right. C’mon.” Will grabbed Elliot’s arm this time and pulled him over the threshold. Elliot hadn’t been back here since James’s death. Or maybe he had and Will hadn’t noticed how many times he’d stood looking at this front door.
Silence played with a few days’ worth of dust inside, but the mail stacked itself neatly to the side on a small side table, at least letting Will know the place had been looked after. He took Elliot over to the settee, pushed him down, then went over and opened the blinds to the bay window. The sunlight hurt, really grated the back of Will’s head, and he twisted away, biting back a wince.
Elliot was already up off the settee, heading for the front door, and Will shifted, pushing him back up against the wall. “Days,” he snarled. “For days you held me down, tied to a bed. So now you give me the decency of ten fucking minutes or I swear to God I’ll call the police and make you listen from a cell. Do you hear me?”
A flash of anger, a dare to do just that, then Elliot buried it, so bloody grudgingly. “What are you going to do, Will?” Elliot held his arms out. “Apart from talk to ghosts, what the hell are we doing here?”
“Tea.” Will ruffled Elliot’s T-shirt up a little more. “You, you’re gonna stay here for a decent cup of fucking tea. That’s what we’re going to do. After that, after we’ve had some decent tea, maybe some toast, then you can leave. Okay?”
Elliot frowned, even pulled back a touch, now looking more worried there’d been some serious damage done along the way. Maybe there had. Will felt like he was walking through mud now, each pull on his body threatening to tug him back down, suck the life out of him and let him lie next to James and never move away from the comfort. But another part recognised the pull back into life, the need to keep walking. Not away from the grief, he wasn’t ready for that, but at least walk alongside it like a friend, always there to talk to; to remember, but not forget those who still lived either.
“Tea. I’m… I need a drink. And you… you, me— yeah, we’re gonna have some decent fucking tea.”
He shoved Elliot back against the wall and headed into the kitchen. After sorting through cupboards, putting the kettle on, somewhere he acknowledged that cups and fresh bread had already been laid out in welcome, that Elliot now followed him, keeping his distance but there with his arms folded, just… just there in the doorway.
Will gripped onto the unit, the half-escaped grief raking his body for a second, that fear he was losing everything again. He held on to try and ground himself, dig his fingers into feel a reality where Elliot still moved with him, not fought against.
A grab came at his
shoulders and spun him away from the counter, back over to the table, and he was forced down into a chair that Elliot kicked away from its group huddle of Ikea collection.
“Okay, fine. You want tea. I’ll do tea. Then we’ll drink.” Elliot started heaping spoon after spoonful of sugar into the mugs. He always liked it sweet. Then he did the same for the sister mug. Spoon after spoon of sugar and Will frowned. He didn’t like his swamped in sugar, not at all.
“Did you take time to bloody eat, Will? I mean just stop and catch some breakfast. Just, just bloody stop?” The tightness to Elliot’s shoulders highlighted the fine muscles across his back, and the dampness caused by the morning sun lined his tanned neck, forcing Will to lick lightly at his lips, thirsty all over again.
A mug of tea hit the table and the hot liquid escaped onto the surface.
“Drink. There’s enough sugar in there to kick your sugars into gear.” Elliot slumped next to him, taking time to gulp at his tea and force the normal morning scene.
Hands shaking slightly, Will wrapped a hold around his mug, for the first time in a long time smiling at the burn of the heat. How he felt it. The tea danced a mix of sweetness and strong flavour over his tongue, and perhaps tasted like the best goddamn tea he’d ever had.
“So.” Elliot sat up, elbow resting on the table, chin against palm as he looked at the radiator next to the table. “Now what?” He refused to look at Will, but that was okay. Will didn’t want him to. One chance. He wanted to give Elliot one last chance. Something Will himself knew he’d never get in so many ways.
