by Mary Calmes
You go from tired and weak to Superman in seconds. With the blanket tied around my neck, I even had a cape. It was funny, I had never climbed a rope ladder in my life, but it seemed self-explanatory. You put your feet on the bottom knot, put your hands above the next knot and pulled yourself up. It was an upward crawl, like a worm. Up, down, little by little. When I heard the guy who had tried to rape me stirring, I moved faster. I watched him move to his knees, feel his face, swear, and realize I was gone. His roar was loud; it bounced off the walls, echoing in the huge space. But me he couldn't see, as I was high enough up that I was cloaked in darkness. I froze until he left, not wanting the rope to move, and then climbed faster when he ran from the room. I started to panic when I kept going up and there seemed no end, but there was suddenly a beam in front of me and I saw the shelf.
I reached for it, realized I needed to be higher, and climbed above and dropped down inside. I pulled the rope ladder up fast and sawed through it with the knife so I had the length of it in a pile beside me. I had just enough energy left to wrap the blanket around me before I passed out from exhaustion. I had never been so tired.
* * * *
It was light, the gray sky visible through the windows that I could now see from my perch. Obviously a fire or some other disaster had taken the floor that used to exist between the ground and where I was. What I was lying on was what was left of a loft. Perhaps it had once been a barn or some kind of production plant, I didn't know. I just hoped that what I was lying on would hold; it was just wooden planks that looked flimsy and creaked with the wind. I could see through the slats to the floor and I was a long way up. A fall from this height would easily kill me. The wind outside would kill me too, and that was what Dominic was sure had happened.
I had run when Marco tried to rape me, and the wind had done away with me and all traces of my movement through the snow. It made sense. The hole in the side of the wall was big enough for me to climb through and they had searched everywhere else. Outside was the only plausible solution.
I watched them come in and out, heard Dominic yelling at Marco before the firecracker sounds outside and the silence, except for the wind. In the darkness that night, as I put the blanket between my teeth to keep them from chattering, I knew I was going to die. My only solace was that I had not been raped. I would just fall asleep and not wake up. It was almost comforting, because I ached everywhere and I had never been so thirsty in my life.
"Jory!"
I was startled awake and looked down through the slats to the floor. Dominic was standing in the middle of the floor, hands on his hips, staring up at the ceiling. I knew he couldn't see me, but I was terrified anyway.
"Jory, you fuck, I know you're in here somewhere. There's no way you got more than twenty miles from here in any direction and I've got no body so I fuckin' know you're here!"
I shivered hard.
"When I find you, I'm gonna slit your throat, you sonofabitch!"
I froze, convinced that he could hear my breathing. I tracked him with my eyes until he left. I laid my head back down and closed my eyes, letting the panic drain out of me.
In the logical part of my brain I realized that, if what Dominic had initially said was true, he still needed me to show Roman's father. I was still valuable. He wanted to find me because, without me, he was in trouble.
I didn't realize I had fainted again until I heard the tapping and it woke me up. I rolled my head and saw Dominic an instant before he broke the window out and screamed at me.
Just for a second, I was petrified. He looked like I figured the devil would. With his hair whipping around from the wind, his eyes hard, the way his face looked when he screamed at me—I thought my heart had stopped.
"Jory!" he roared and shoved his hand through the window and shot at me.
But he was across a space of at least forty feet, he was balanced on a ladder—either a huge one leaned against the side of the building or one that was built into the wall—and he was holding on. He couldn't keep still enough to fire and I crawled back against the far wall.
"Jory!" he shrieked, and I started to hyperventilate. I couldn't breathe, and even when he disappeared I kept expecting him to just suddenly appear at the edge of the loft.
That was the scariest moment of all. When there was no movement for several minutes, I put my head down. Hard to stay anxious and ready indefinitely.
* * * *
The sound was constant, like a beeping siren almost, and I had to make it stop. I rolled and there was a light in my face.
I screamed but I couldn't move; my body was done and there were not even tears to be shed.
"Jory." The voice was loud, close, as a gloved hand slid over my chest. "Don't move, Jory. Lie still. This could collapse at any second."
I squinted through the light, saw the shape of the hat, the color of the jacket. Fireman. I started to shake.
"It's okay, Jory, we're going to get you down. Just don't move."
I lay there, listening to the creaking wood, the howling wind, the sound of a chainsaw, and the hydraulic motor of something big. When I realized they were cutting their way to me, I started to shake.
"Jory!"
The yell I knew. The voice I knew. I rolled over and everyone roared at once for me not to move. Through the slats I saw a sea of people, the ground flooded with light, Dominic on his knees with three other men, uniformed officers, standing over him. Directly below me, Sam was pacing. I tried to scream his name but there was no sound; only a rasp came out of me.
"Jory; don't move!"
I felt the sway, knew I was going to fall even before the crash and the sudden sinking. That I was tethered, suddenly caught like a fly in a web, was wonderful and frightening at the same time. I wasn't sure if it would hold, and that part—
being so close to rescue but not quite, the waiting—was the scariest moment of all.
When I touched the floor, my back on top of the rubble from the splintered shelf, I finally took a breath. Suddenly there were so many faces and I was lifted so gently, moved to solid ground.
"Jory." Sam dropped to his knees beside me, his eyes red and swollen. He looked ragged. "Oh baby."
I shivered hard and everyone heard the shout at the same time.
It was a blur. Dominic was on his feet and he had a gun.
When he spun around, my only thought was for Sam.
Because there was nothing to lose; Dominic was caught and he would take his last retribution on the one he thought had abandoned him.
Dominic turned his head, panning to the right, and then came his arm with the gun in it. He didn't hesitate or speak or threaten. He did what I knew he would: aimed and fired on his best friend, his partner for half his life. The little in me that was left I used and ended up in Sam's arms.
"Jory!" Sam shrieked out but he didn't sound mad. He sounded terrified.
My head snapped up and I was staring into his wrecked eyes. "Sam."
"Oh God." His voice broke and he put his arms around me, tight.
There was heat spreading through me and it was searing and painful.
"No!" Dominic shouted from behind me, and when I turned there was a pop and he went down to his knees. There were police officers behind him and their guns were drawn.
"Don't kill him!" I screamed, but when it came out it sounded more like a whisper.
Dominic looked at me and then he turned and raised the gun.
I tensed for the impact, but Dominic was buried under a pile of policemen. I was so relieved I started to shake. If people were holding him down, he had to still be alive. I heard him swearing and let out a shallow breath before I closed my eyes. I was so tired.
"Jory—baby, please open your eyes," Sam pleaded with me. His voice cracked and I could feel him trembling. "Baby, please."
I tried to do what he asked me, I really did.
"Please baby... please...." He was crying, and I had never heard him do that before.
I was going to assure
him that I would be all right, but the heat was replaced by a numbing that was followed by a chill.
It was like falling into a cold, dark well.
Chapter Ten
I shivered and opened my eyes. It was dim, but I could make out enough to see that I was in a hospital. The thing the IV hangs from, the weird lights, the nurses... I understood where I was. I heard the machine beeping next to my bed. I blinked several times to try and clear my vision, and then was rewarded when I saw him.
Sam was there on my right, his head resting on his folded arms, slouched forward in the chair, asleep on the bed.
"Oh hello, sweetie—you're awake."
I turned toward the faint, soft voice and found a smiling nurse. Her smock had little clouds all over it.
"Well, Mr. Harcourt, I'm so happy to see you."
I grimaced but she beamed back at me. I moved my fingers to get her attention and then pointed at Sam.
"What do you want, dear? Should I wake him?"
I closed my eyes for no but then opened my hand.
"Oh," she nodded, smiling wide. "I got it. I'm very good at charades, you know. It's part of the job." She lifted my hand and placed it very gently in Sam's hair. I moved my fingers and watched the copper strands twine around them.
My sigh was very deep.
"Oh, I knew this was the right one."
I was puzzled, and she read it on my face.
"This one's your partner, isn't he?"
I nodded.
"And is the architect your brother, or is the doctor?"
I held up a finger for number one. My brother, Dane Harcourt, was one of the top architects in Chicago, where we lived. He wasn't just an architect—he was the architect.
"The architect... all right then, this is making sense. He's been in and out, the architect, been adamant about your care. And the doctor—the doctor's been vigilant, I'll give you, but this one." She sighed, looking at Sam. "This one wouldn't leave your side. The others have all come and gone, but not him. He hasn't left the hospital in eight days."
My eyes widened.
"Yes, sweetheart, eight days you've been here in intensive care."
I looked back at Sam. I wanted him to wake up and hold me.
"And that man is not in good shape."
I nodded.
"Hopefully now that you're awake, he'll cry... because I don't think I can stand to look at his face another day. I have never seen such wounded-looking eyes."
I nodded again.
"Maybe we should wake him so he can go home." She smiled at me, her face hopeful. "He only eats when his mother makes him, and like I said, he hasn't left the hospital even once."
I shook my head no.
"You two must make a handsome couple."
I tried to smile.
"And you're a very lucky guy, because not only is this a man who loves you, but he is also just beautiful to look at."
She sighed. "And so is your brother, by the way. Reminds me of one of those matinee idols from the forties—not that I'm that old, mind you."
I tried to smile.
"And you, sweetheart," she smoothed my hair back from my face, "you've got to be about the prettiest boy I've ever seen."
I groaned.
"Man," she corrected herself, smiling warmly. "I meant man."
I rolled my eyes and she chuckled.
"I'm going to call your doctor now that you're awake so we can get this show on the road."
Alone with Sam, I tried for a minute to say his name before I gave up and fell asleep.
* * * *
I woke up, and after I focused a minute, saw Nick Sullivan.
Funny that he was there, a man I had been on two dates with, a man who was barely my friend. I had set him up on a blind date that went very well. He should have been with his new love interest, not keeping vigil over me. He was standing beside the bed looking down at me, arms folded across his chest and looking oddly uncomfortable.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, and my voice was scratchy.
He swallowed hard and continued to stare at me.
"Nick?"
He took a deep breath and looked me up and down. There were tubes and cords, there was the monitor clipped to my middle finger. "I want to hold you, but I'm not sure how."
Hold me? "Are you all right?"
"No, I don't think so. I just want to be close to you."
I tried to smile because that wasn't what I wanted. I went for diversion instead. "May I please have a drink of water?"
He jumped to do it for me.
"Jory."
I turned and saw Sam coming toward the bed. I tried to shift, to sit up.
"No-no, don't move," he ordered, reaching the bed. He leaned down toward me, lifted my right hand, and then put it on his back. His arms slid around me gently, but tight enough so I could feel the warmth of him through his T-shirt. Gently, slowly, he maneuvered under everything so he had his head on my chest as he stretched out beside me. I had no idea how he did it, as big as he was, all six-foot-four of him, but he managed. He felt so good next to me and he smelled like soap and his hair was damp. I made a noise that was half-whimper, half-sigh. I was so content. I kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. I didn't remember closing my eyes.
* * * *
The voices were muffled and soft but I heard them.
"I don't understand," her voice rose suddenly.
"Mom, don't wake him up."
"Maybe he should wake up, Sam. Maybe if you looked in his eyes, you wouldn't be able to leave."
"I'm leaving because of him. If I looked in his eyes, it wouldn't make any difference."
"You're a coward."
"Mom."
"You are! You're running away because you don't want people to know you sleep with a man! That's the only reason you're doing this."
"No, it's not. You haven't been listening."
"Sam." She drew in a breath. "You tell me you love him in the same breath that you tell me you're going away. How else do I interpret that but as cowardice?"
"You don't understand... I can't work like this! I can't be like this."
"Like what, Sam? You're not telling me anything."
"Mom." I heard the chair shift on the floor, scrape across it like nails on a chalkboard. "My life is under a microscope. If anyone finds out that I was seeing Jory while there was an investigation going on... if IAD actually looks at me, I'm dead.
Do you even get how deep the hole is that I'm in? Do you have any idea?"
"Sam—"
"It won't stop with being thrown off the force. I could be charged with interfering in an ongoing investigation. I could...
there's just so much that could go wrong. They could even throw me in jail."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Only because you're not familiar with the law. I screwed up big... you have no idea."
"Sam—"
"But Mom... if I go away, do what my captain wants and join the task force and go undercover...." I heard him let out a shaky breath, then drag in another. "Everybody knows what I did, and everybody's deliberately ignoring it. They're all concentrating on Dominic instead. I'm so lucky—you have no idea how much. They're giving me an out, and I gotta take it."
I tried to speak, to yell, to scream, but there was nothing; I couldn't even get my eyes to open. There was no way to move or reach out. I felt like I was encased in cotton.
"But you love Jory."
"I do love Jory, but what use will I be to him if I resent him for not letting me be a cop anymore?"
"Sam—"
"Mom," he groaned. "I've got to help find the man responsible for putting the contract on Jory's life. If we don't find—"
"You're lying to yourself, Sam, if you think you're doing this for Jory. You being with him will keep him plenty safe.
You want to distance yourself to make it look like you're not in love with him right now." Her voice cracked before I heard the whimper of impending tears. "You—"
"Mom, I have to go. And yeah, some of it is because I'm too close and I can't protect him when I feel like this. I mean, all I can think of is losing him and how I would feel if that happened. When he was bleeding and I was holding him and... Jesus, there's no way to remain objective through that."
I felt the tears slipping down my cheeks, but no one saw me. They were talking about me, but no one was actually looking at me.
"I can't let anything happen to him, Mom. I dunno what I'd do."
"He took a bullet for you, Sam. He loves you so much that he would give his life for yours. I could never ask for any more for you, for any of my children... your father feels the same."
"Mom, this is about taking the information that Dominic is giving us and using it to bust a huge drug syndicate. I—"
"It's about Jory, and you not wanting people to know that you've been sleeping with him since you met."
"It's not. I already told you it's not."
"I don't believe you."
"Jesus, Mom, don't—"
"Shut up!" she yelled suddenly. "Just tell me this—when you return, can you be with Jory?"
"Yes."
"And how long will you be undercover?"
"I don't know."
"You won't see him before you go?"
"I'm here now."
"But—"
"I'm leaving right now."
"Sam." She started crying. "Please don't go."
If I could have screamed I would have. How could he leave me?
"Mom, if I go, I get to keep my job and I get to keep Jory off everyone's radar. He's gonna be better off without me, just for a few months. We need to let everything settle down."
"I want you to say good-bye to Jory."
"I did. I sat with him for an hour this morning watching him sleep. It's better that he sleeps."
"Oh, Sam."
"Mom," he soothed her.
"And what if it's a long time, Sam? What if... what if Jory finds someone else to love?"
"I can only do what I think is right, and I think this is right for the both of us. He loves me because of who I am, and if I can't be that guy... what's the point anyway?"
