by S. M. Shade
The guys snort and laugh. “Do it, Mike,” Dave taunts. “Trample him. Teach him a lesson.”
“Give me a few minutes to gear up,” he agrees reluctantly.
Their laughter follows me as I make my way out to the ring. It doesn’t escape my attention that I’m being watched by a group of men, especially once I enter the ring and begin stretching out. Guess word got around who I am. I’m pissed about how I’ve been treated, but I’m not surprised. Sometimes it does catch me off guard. Overall, people have become more accepting, and days like this have become few and far between, but the bigotry still lives just under the surface, waiting to pounce when I least expect it.
Mike approaches, his hands wrapped, and everyone’s attention turns to us. I could’ve left. Just told them to go fuck themselves and found another gym, but that’s not how I deal with shit like this. He’s twice my size, but I’m ten times as pissed. This time, just this once, I’ll let my anger take over.
And it does. We tap gloves and he nails me in my right eye. Taunts and jeers fill my ears from the guys gathered around to see the fag get beat, and the switch is flipped. I land punch after punch, kick after kick, until he’s on the ground, my arm locked around his neck. Distantly, I hear screaming voices, but they’re inconsequential, a nuisance to be ignored. It isn’t until Dave and another man are pulling me off of him, that I realize it’s over.
Staggering to my feet, I take in the circle of astounded faces surrounding me. Someone murmurs, “He’s a Reed brother all right. Did you see that shit?”
I spit out my mouth guard and turn to Dave. “Gay doesn’t mean weak, you ignorant son of a bitch. Any day you want a match, you let me know.”
Nobody says a word as I grab my stuff from the locker room and calmly walk out the front door.
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins and I try to calm myself down as I drive back to the safe house. Sidney and Gary are sitting in the living room when I enter and Sidney’s jaw hits the ground. “What happened to you?”
“Just sparring at the gym.” Gary shoots me a questioning look, but I just nod, assuring him everything’s okay. One look in the bathroom mirror and I understand their reaction. My lip is split and swollen, both of my eyes are puffy, the right one nearly closed. Blood dots my shirt, probably from Mike’s nose.
Other than the first punch, I don’t remember getting hit, the rage numbed me like it always does. Now that the anger and adrenaline have faded, I can feel the ache in my ribs, the sting of my lip. Worth it. Totally worth it. Mason may not be too pleased with me when I tell him, but I don’t give a shit.
A hesitant knock on the guest room door is followed by Sidney’s voice. “Alex?”
“In the bathroom. Come on in.”
His expression is sheepish as he hands me an ice pack. “Your eye looks pretty bad.”
“Thanks.”
He sits on the edge of the tub while I clean and treat my wounds. “I’ve seen sparring and it doesn’t look like that. What happened? Does it have anything to do with my ex?”
Shit. I should’ve realized this would freak him out. “No, nothing like that. I really was sparring at the gym. When a few assholes decided they didn’t want to fight a homo, I might’ve gotten carried away.”
“I hope you kicked their asses,” he says, shaking his head.
“Only one of them.” I laugh. “Now I have to find a new gym.” My ribs scream at me when I bend to untie my shoe. “Not for a few days though.”
Mason is surprisingly supportive when I call and explain what went down. He calls back a few hours later to give me the address of another gym. Hopefully this one won’t have a no gays policy.
“Are you waiting on a call?” Sidney asks that evening.
Apparently, he’s noticed me obsessively checking my phone. “No, I don’t know.” I scrub my face with my palms.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He redirects his gaze back to the T.V.
“No, it’s not that. I just…it’s complicated.”
“Always is,” he murmurs.
“The guy I’ve been seeing, we had a fight before I left and I haven’t heard from him. I’m not sure where we stand.”
Sympathy fills his face. “That sucks. Have you been together long?”
“No, but we were close friends before we got involved. Living together and everything. He sort of freaked out and cheated the day before I left.”
His eyebrows jump. “Cheated? And you’re willing to forgive him?”
“Sort of cheated, I guess. He’s bi, and still coming to terms with it. I’m the first man he’s been with. We had a deal, though. If he wanted to get with a woman, we’d do it together, or he’d at least let me know. Instead, he went out, got drunk, and fucked some chick at a bar. When I tried to talk to him about it, he got defensive and acted like a dick.”
“You said he freaked out. You think he was trying to prove to himself he wants women, not men?”
“Yes, but I also think he’s got a serious fear of commitment. He’s never been in a relationship.”
“Whew.” Sidney shakes his head. “You’ve got your work cut out for you. After the day you had today though, you can understand why he’s scared. Maybe he realized all the obstacles he’ll have to face if he’s with a man.”
Nodding, I agree. “He doesn’t want to be gay or bi or whatever, but that doesn’t make him any straighter.”
“You love him?” Sidney looks at me curiously.
“Yes, damn it.”
“He love you?”
“Yes.”
“Then give him another chance.”
I fall into a routine over the next two weeks. Eat breakfast with Sidney and Gary, work out and spar at the new gym, go out to lunch, catch a movie or just walk around the local mall until I’m ready to go back to the safe house. I don’t usually have a problem spending time by myself, but by the second week, loneliness sets in. I miss Ian. I’ve haven’t heard a word. Not one text or call since I left.
Apparently, he’s made his decision. My chest aches when I think about going home. I guess I don’t really have a home since I need to move out. The thought sends a pang through me. I’ve missed the hell out of him. Missed his smirky smile, talking and teasing with him, watching T.V. curled up on the sofa, even watching him play those interminable video games.
Ev called me yesterday and assured me he’s okay. He’s going to work and living his life, probably relieved to put our relationship behind him. I make arrangements to stay a few days at Parker’s when I get home, at least until after the tournament. I need to focus on the fight, get the tournament over with before I worry about everything else. Right now, I’m just trying to block it out. Trying not to picture him fucking his way through Indy.
Ian
The house is too damn quiet when I get back from delivering Kyle to his school. I can’t remember the last time I was home alone. Looks like this will be the way it is for the next two weeks. Probably longer. I can’t imagine Alex will still want to stay when I tell him I can’t be with him. Of course I can’t. I don’t know why I thought I could in the first place.
I’m terrible at relationships, and I’m not gay, or bi, or whatever he thinks I am. I was just curious and got a little carried away, that’s all. I hate the thought of losing him altogether, so I really hope we can go back to just hanging out, even if he doesn’t want to live here.
My finger hesitates over his name on my phone screen. I want to call him and apologize. Hell, I just want to hear his voice if I’m being honest, but he’ll want an answer, an explanation, and I’m not ready to tell him just yet. After all we’ve been through together, it seems wrong to break up over the phone. Break up. Christ. I’ve never had to break up with anyone. How did I get myself into this?
The day drags by. I can’t seem to get interested in anything, even my video games. The weather has warmed up, so I wander out to the porch and flop into a lawn chair. Being out in the sunshine, watching people come and go at least
quells some of the loneliness. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve lived alone my whole life, now I’m acting like some depressed pussy after one afternoon.
A loud screech makes me jump and Arthur’s dry chuckle quickly follows. “Guess I need to oil that screen door.” He takes a seat in a chair beside me. “You been out here for a bit. Somethin’ on yer mind?”
“Just bored. How have you been, Art?” The man lives in the other half of my house, but I haven’t seen him in weeks.
Liver spotted hands pull his jacket tighter, blocking out the breeze. “Can’t complain.” I’m met with his knowing gaze when he adds, “Saw Alex leavin’ with a suitcase this mornin’. Off on another vacation?”
“Traveling for work.” And to get away from me.
“Got a bit used to havin’ him around ain’t ya?”
The expression on his face tells me he knows. Well, the walls aren’t all that thick. God knows what he’s heard. Shrugging, I look everywhere but at him. “I don’t mind the company.”
“Ayuh, he’s a good kid. Never met no gay kid before him, not that I know of anyway. I saw a couple guys walking hand in hand in the mall once, pants so tight you could see their religion, and wearing more makeup than a French whore. But I guess that ain’t always how it is. The older I get, the less I understand sometimes.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I’ve known quite a few gay guys. They’re as diverse as any other group. Not all of them wear makeup or like to dress feminine. And I’ve known straight guys who do, so…” I shrug.
A familiar car pulls up in front of the house, and I smile for the first time that day as Ms. Den gets out from behind the wheel. “There’s my date,” Arthur says, dropping me a wink and getting to his feet. He gives me a searching look. “Maybe ya should give Alex a call, ya know, jus’ to check on ‘im.”
I’m really not fooling anyone today. Ms. Den waves at me, and Arthur slides an arm around her waist, leading her down the front steps. “Where ya wanna eat, beautiful?” I can’t hear Ms. Den’s reply, but I hear Arthur’s response. “Sushi? Raw fish? Honey, where I come from, we call that bait.”
As the sun sets, I retreat back inside and fall into bed. Tomorrow will be easier. I just haven’t had a day alone in a long time. I’ll get back to normal.
My alarm blares at 7 am and I instantly reach for my phone to see if Alex has called or texted. Nothing. Why would he after the shit I said? Whatever. It’s time to get back to normal, to remember who I was before I got involved with Alex.
My workday inches by and I manage to get a few things accomplished between checking my phone and wondering what Alex is doing. The thought of going back to my empty house is just too damn depressing, but I’m not really in the mood to hang out with Cam or Teddy. For a brief second I consider heading to Hype to pick up a chick or calling Linda for a little after hours fun, but for some reason the idea isn’t appealing.
My car seems to have a mind of its own and before I know it, I’m parked in the lot of the animal shelter. I haven’t been here in weeks. Nat looks up from behind her desk when I enter and a grin spreads across her face. “Ian, thought you forgot about us.”
“I’ve been out of town for a while. How have you been?”
“Good.” She accompanies me back into the kennel. “Molly and all her pups found homes.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“There’s always more, though. Look at these cuties.” We stop in front of a cage of squirming puppies. “Someone left them in a box outside the back door.”
“Golden retriever?” I ask, sticking my fingers through the grate so the hyper pups can lick them.
“Mixed with something, lab maybe? I don’t know. Might be able to tell when they get a bit older. Would you like to take them to the gym? It’ll give me time to clean out their cage.”
“Sure.” The way the pups try to run across the slippery gym floor has me laughing until tears run down my face. They chase and pounce on each other, their legs sliding out from under them. When the time comes to take them back to the cage, I don’t want to leave. It’s been the only hour of the day I didn’t obsess over Alex and what I’m going to say.
Nat returns to help me carry the five wiggly balls of fur back to their cage. The smallest of the group licks my neck and face the whole time, no matter how I hold him. “He likes you,” Nat says fondly.
I make an impulsive decision. “I want him. I mean…I want to adopt him. I know it’s a process.”
Nat beams. “Not for you. Just give me a minute to get the paperwork.” Fifteen minutes later I leave the shelter with a new buddy and a bag of supplies, compliments of the shelter.
* * * *
Christ on a cracker! Taking care of a puppy is like having a newborn baby. The little punk turned his nose up at the soft dog bed I bought him and proceeded to whine until I let him sleep with me. He has to go out every few hours to pee if I don’t want to wake up in a puddle of it. Arthur has been keeping him while I’m at work, so he doesn’t have to be penned up and he seems to be happy to have the company.
I know I am. No matter how much sleep I lose, the little fur ball is worth it. He burrows under the edge of my thigh while I sit on the couch and play video games or watch T.V. Something about having him near calms me. It’s been over a week since Alex left and I haven’t heard a word from him. I miss him more than I thought I was capable of, more than I’ve ever missed a person. It sucks big time.
When the pup—I haven’t thought of a name yet—does something funny, I want to tell him. Every night I eat alone, I think of Alex cooking for us, coming in the room with that cocky smile to tell me dinner’s ready and he’s not delivering it like a damn waitress. I think of how he clung to me after Cooper died, and how I did the same through the cancer treatment.
Everly was always the person I’d go to if something was wrong. She has a way of laying it all out for me without sugar coating anything. In other words, she kicks me in the ass when I need it, but she has a newborn baby at home and I’m not going to bother her with my problems. I just need time. Isn’t that what people always say? Time may not heal, but it sure covers up a lot of heartache.
I swear the girl has instincts from hell. She waltzes through my front door the day before Alex is due to come home. Her arms wrap around me and give me a long squeeze before she settles on my couch. “Almost forgot what you look like. You need a haircut,” she says.
“Good to see you, pup. You just come to insult me?”
“Among other things.”
“Where’s the baby?”
With an exhausted smile, she flops back against the cushion. “With his dad. I escaped. He’s just like his dad…stubborn as hell.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, “that totally comes from Mason.”
“I heard something interesting today.” Her brown eyes scrutinize me.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to tell me why Alex is staying at Parker’s when he gets back from Alabama?”
Shit. Her words slam into me, stealing my breath. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. Ev takes one look at my slumped shoulders and her voice softens. “What happened, Ian?”
“I fucked things up, what do you think happened?”
“Have you tried to talk to him?”
“No, this is for the best. I should’ve known better. I fuck women. Lots of women. I don’t date or maintain relationships. This is who I am.” Never mind the fact I haven’t even looked at a woman since he’s been gone.
“Bullshit,” she snaps. “You looked like someone died when I told you he wasn’t coming back. You love him.”
With a sigh, I sit back, my eyes pointed at the ceiling. “It’ll never work.” Before she can argue, she’s distracted by the puppy that wanders in from the kitchen. He must’ve been asleep or he’d have been all over her the second she came through the door.
Scooping him up, she cries with delight. “Who’s this little guy?” He licks her face like a madman, and she giggles an
d coos at him. “You’re just a little sweetheart, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”
“I haven’t named him yet.” I don’t want to admit, even to myself, that I’ve been waiting on Alex’s input. In case he’s our puppy, not just mine. All hope of that flew out the window when she announced his plans to stay with Parker. “Does Alex want me to get his stuff together, send some things to Parker’s?”
“He didn’t say. He sounds tired, but then he’s been cooped up with that guy for two weeks.”
Guy? “He’s protecting a guy?”
Ev glances at me before returning her attention to the puppy, rubbing his belly. “Yeah, guy was getting beat by his boyfriend. Alex has been staying with him while the cops look for the abuser.”
Guy. Boyfriend. The dots connect and it feels like a knife in my gut. He’s been staying with a gay guy for two weeks. Probably cooking for him like he did for me. Watching T.V. with him at night on the couch like we did. No wonder he didn’t try to get in touch. It’s a wonder he’s coming back at all.
Ev places the puppy on the floor, and he pounces on his chew toy. She gets to her feet and runs a soft hand through my long hair. “Call him, Ian. His fight is the day after tomorrow. I expect to see you there.”
For the longest time after she leaves, I sit there, staring at the wall. I shouldn’t feel this way. Jealousy is an unfamiliar emotion to me. I’ve never been jealous over anyone, but the ache I feel isn’t just from losing him. I had already decided to let him go. No, this overwhelming feeling is directly linked to the images my brain are cooking up of Alex with another guy.
The misery I’ve felt the last two weeks is nothing compared to the next twenty-four hours. All I can think about is Alex with another man. Touching him, blowing him, bending over for him like I never did. There are stages of grief people go through when someone dies. Are there also stages for finding out the man you love has moved on and given up on you?
I’ve bounced back and forth between despair, fear, and anger. A few hours before Alex is scheduled to fight, I’ve landed pretty squarely on anger. I know I fucked up, but that doesn’t mean he can just forget about me. I finally got the nerve to call him this morning, but got his voice mail. There’s nothing I need to say that can be left on a damn machine.
