by Drew Sera
I shaved, brushed my teeth, and ran my hand through my hair with some hair stuff. Good enough. I was just going to sit and wait for something to happen. I went to the bedroom dresser and pulled on a fresh pair of black boxer briefs while eyeing the picture frame on the dresser with the three of us by a Christmas tree. Fuck. I went into the closet and when I came face to face with Sydney’s clothes, I felt like my chest had been squeezed in a vice.
I ran my hand down some of her clothes on the sleeves. I even smelled them - vanilla. I remember how my blazer smelled like her vanilla scent for the first time the night I took her to Colin’s party. The night she nearly died. I fought the tears and finally had to pull myself away from her clothes. I put some jeans on and a gray tee shirt. I started to put a belt on and was instantly disgusted with it and yanked it out of the belt loops and threw to the back of the closet. My head was pounding, and I was suddenly feeling like I needed air. I felt warm and like I might be sick to my stomach again. My stomach was cramping again, or maybe it hadn’t stopped but rather the ibuprofen was wearing off. Pushing that feeling down, I stepped outside on the balcony and took a few deep breaths of the cool winter air. I was hoping the cool air would suppress the nausea. I put my arms up on the balcony railing and then took a few steps backwards to ease some of the tension in my back and stretch some. Being bent over like this helped. I shut my eyes and concentrated on breathing.
“Hey,” Colin said, startling me.
He stepped outside on the balcony and sat down on one of the chairs. He had the same dark circles I did.
“Hey,” I said back and sat down on the chair closest to the balcony door in case I needed to bolt for the bathroom.
“Did you sleep some last night?”
I nodded and told him I woke up a few times. I could feel his eyes on me.
“You don’t look well, Anth.”
“No fucking shit. Sydney’s gone.”
“Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. You need food.”
“I’m okay, Col. I’m not hungry.”
“You’re not okay, Anthony.” He stood and put his hands on his hips, looking down at me. I began to panic and was afraid of what else might come out of his mouth. I didn’t want to hear another accusation that I didn’t know if there was truth to. I didn’t know if Blake talked to him. Blake was a problem for me right now. He knew I had hit my head hard and couldn’t account for an hour’s time Saturday. So to get out from under that microscope, I stood and agreed for food even though the thought of food nauseated me.
20
Tuesday, January 14th
Colin
Before we left, I sent Matt a text to tell him Anthony and I were going to get out of the house for a bit and go for breakfast. Anthony looks like hell, and I was worried about the stuff Matt and Blake talked about last night. He needed some food at least. Anthony’s guilty pleasures are those breakfast sandwiches from McDonald’s with the maple syrup, so that’s where I was taking him. Matt offered to come with us, I’m sure out of worry, but I told him that Anthony and I could manage. Besides, he and I needed some time alone. I thought that maybe without Matt and Blake around that Anthony could relax some and if I was lucky, he’d open up to me about Saturday.
We got coffee and a few breakfast sandwiches and found a table off to the side by a window. He was quiet and sipped slowly on his coffee. He was lost. Anthony was looking out the window, and his mind was as far away from here as possible. I let him be and knew he’d come around when he was ready. He needed time, but while he took his time, he needed to know that I was here for him.
Finally he took a bite of his sandwich and spent far too much time chewing it. He looked like it was causing him pain. Once he swallowed, he went back to sipping his coffee and looking outside. I was trying to get through breakfast without asking him about Saturday night. That talk would come but not yet. I had to table the anger that I felt when I looked at his neck and saw the bruising. Someone put their fucking hands on him, and the state of his body goes beyond the scope of asking another Dom to relieve built up tension.
“How’s your head doing today?”
He nodded slowly and said the throbbing has subsided some and he’s remembering not to sit up or stand up too fast. Then he went right back to staring out the window. At least he was talking some. Granted, it was a few sentences here and there, but at least he was out and talking to me. I pulled my phone out and scrolled through until I found the picture I was looking for. I found the one where he and Sydney were sitting on the stairs. Anthony was sitting on the step above Sydney. Sitting sideways, Sydney was protected and surrounded by his legs. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and he held her head against his chest with one hand while the other hand was splayed out on her back. It was an intimate picture and it spoke volumes for the amount of trust they both had in one another. I attached that picture in a text and sent it to him. I wanted to send him something to make him smile and remind him that he’s loved.
He quickly pulled his phone and saw my text. I didn’t move my gaze from my sandwich that I was working on. I knew he was studying the picture. I was surprised though when his phone hit the table and I heard him taking a gasping breath of air. I looked up and he was rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Fuck. I didn’t mean to upset him here.
“Anth.” I knew a response from him wasn’t coming. “Anth, I’m sorry. I just wanted to give you something good to look at. She loves you, man. That picture shows how powerful your connection is.”
He took a few deep breaths, keeping the tears at bay and then picked his phone up to look at her. “How did we get so lucky to be loved by her?”
“Fate. She’s been our missing piece.” I sat back in my chair and looked at him. He was in a world of hurt. Sydney disappearing was bad enough, but then throw in whatever happened Saturday night and it made things worse.
“Anthony, I’m sorry I said those things to you Saturday night. I shouldn’t have tried keeping you from seeing the texts. If I had been more controlled of my own actions, you wouldn’t have left that night and you wouldn’t be in so much pain.”
He looked up and finally made eye contact with me. His eyes were red and arms were folded across his chest.
“I promise you that the pain I feel over Sydney is so much worse than any physical pain I’ve ever felt in my life.”
That was scary. Anthony grew up in a violent house, and he’s had more than his share of physical pain. But I knew exactly what he was going through. I hurt like hell, too.
“Me too, Anth. I feel like a hole has been cut from my chest.”
We sat and talked a little bit about how much we missed Sydney. Nothing that we said was a surprise to the other one, but it was good for us to vent a little. Opening up wasn’t Anthony’s strong point, but ever since Sydney came around, he’s opened up quite a bit. He shared things with her about his childhood; things that Matt and I didn’t even know. I’ve walked in on several conversations they’d have about things that no human should experience. One topic that nearly throws me into a fit of rage every time I hear it is how they both know what it’s like to be burned. Even though I know a little about what Anthony had in his past, these still weren’t topics he’d talk about with me, which is fine, but he’d go on and on with Sydney. She comforted him. Us.
He began rubbing on his arms some, and I went back to worrying about him. Matt and Blake had painted a bad picture last night. He wasn’t himself, which I could easily say was from Sydney being gone. But after listening to Blake and Matt, I just didn’t know what was going on with him and maybe I was fooling myself with thinking that the worst didn’t actually happen. One thing was for sure was that he wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t himself.
He wasn’t eating either and that was becoming a problem I feared would only get worse. Blake said all he had yesterday at his place was coffee and part of a cookie, and that the night before he ate a little spaghetti and part of a dinner roll but nothing else. He didn’t
eat much with us on Saturday, and last night he had a few vegetables and I think a chicken wing. We ordered four of those breakfast sandwiches this morning with the plan of each of us eating two. I ate three, and he still had more than a half of the one left.
“Col, I don’t feel good.”
There was something in his tone that really worried me. I think it was hard for him to admit he didn’t feel well, and I think he held it in for as long as he could and finally desperation set in. He needed help, and declaring that he didn’t feel good was him begging for help in his own way.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
As I was throwing the trash away, he disappeared to the men’s room. His body is turned around. While he was in the bathroom, I got him a Sprite and hoped it’d settle his stomach. When he came out I went over to him with the soda. He looked horrible but clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He was trying to be tough and not mention anything, but I knew he wasn’t well. I made sure I walked at a slower pace to the car so he wouldn’t rush to keep up with me. When we got in the car, he leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes.
He needs help and time to rest and relax. Just with him being in the house, I feel more settled and balanced. It was horrible with everything going on for him to be gone Saturday night until Monday night. With him home, I feel strong enough to be able to help and support him. I was a mess Monday night and I’ve cried a number of times since Sydney has been gone. It’s actually helped, but to my knowledge Anthony’s held it all in.
Anthony was quiet during our drive, and right when we got home, he went to lie down on the chaise and shoved his hand underneath his body, curling his fingers around to hold his side.
I sat on the couch and turned the TV on but kept the volume low so if he did fall asleep, it wouldn’t disturb him. I had fallen asleep but jerked awake when I heard my cell phone alert me of an incoming text.
702-555-6080: I’m growing tired of hearing her say your fucking name and the Golden Boy’s name. I had to get creative. Turns out all she needed was less oxygen to the brain.
There was a video attached. I hit the play button and watched with a sick feeling. Sydney was up against a wall, head downward and crying. The sound of her crying gripped my heart. Anthony was awake now and watching this vile shit with me. Paul’s hand was visible in the video and holding her around her neck. He was yelling at her to look up at him.
“Look at me, you bad, worthless slave, or do you want to be whipped again?” She tried shaking her head, but I could see his hand gripping her tighter, causing her to cough and choke. When she brought her head up, I nearly dropped the phone. Her face was bruised, and her lip was cut and swollen. “Tell Colin fucking Everett why you have a bloody lip.” She didn’t say anything, and Paul gripped her neck tighter. “Tell him!”
“Because I said C-colin’s name.” She was shaking badly. I just wanted her home. Whatever the fuck he wanted, he could have. I would trade anything for her return.
“And what else, slave?”
“B-because I said his name and A-anthony’s.”
“That’s right. And we don’t say those names anymore.”
Paul adjusted his grip on her neck, and I held my breath and watched as he pressed on just the right spot to cause her to lose consciousness. Her head slumped over to the side, and then Paul took his hand off her neck, letting her fall to the ground.
Anthony and I stared at her body, lying crumpled on a cement floor. The video play arrow popped up on my screen, indicating the end of the video. I was about to pass out. I covered my mouth to keep sound from escaping, but I couldn’t control my shaking and dropped the phone on the couch.
“Col,” Anthony tried to get my attention. I couldn’t look at him and witness his broken heart. I concentrated on breathing calmly, but I couldn’t hide my shaking. Soon, I felt the hot trail of tears falling down my face and quickly wiped them away. Paul was torturing her. I allowed myself to exhale loudly, hoping it would calm me down some.
“Colin, breathe man.”
Anthony’s voice was shaky as he tried to calm me down, but I knew he was as much of a wreck as I was. There was no use; I was burning inside. I quickly picked the phone up and pulled the video up again and was going to play it again. Had she just lost consciousness or did he kill her? Would Matt be able to tell? Anthony’s hands were now covering mine, trying to get my phone out of my hands. I did struggle with him over it for a few moments but lost the battle.
“Stop, Colin. We’re not watching it again.” Anthony pulled the phone out of my hand and stood up.
“Wait, don’t delete it, Anthony. The police…we need to forward it to them. They need to see it…” I spat all of that out quickly in hopes that he’d hear me out before he deleted it.
“Colin, you have to calm down. I’m not deleting anything. I just don’t want you watching that video again. We’ll give it to the police, but we’re not sitting here watching it over and over.”
Of course. I leaned back on the couch and shut my eyes. I heard Anthony on the phone with Matt but didn’t make out much of the conversation.
I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I wish to hell Paul just would have taken me to torture. He’s doing it anyway, but in the process he’s hurting Sydney and Anthony.
21
Tuesday, January 14th
Matt
Anthony sounded okay on the phone, but when I got there, I could see that he was far from okay. Colin was sitting tightly on the couch and had his fists clenched. Anthony showed me the text and video. Son of a fucking bitch. I found that there was nothing I could say to my best friends that would ease this pain. I kept reminding them though that she was passed out and wasn’t dead. They were obviously upset by the video, and I explained that Paul had applied enough pressure for her to black out.
I don’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but Chris came over about an hour after I had been there. I sat in the great room with them while Chris talked.
Colin was withdrawn, and Anthony was slipping into darkness. Chris thought it would be a good idea if someone was here with them all of the time. They needed distractions, and they needed shoulders to lean on, and help to stay positive.
I walked Chris out. He said that he could tell Anthony was trying to be strong for Colin, but in the meantime, he’s not dealing with anything and is bottling it all up. I told him about Anthony visiting a Pro Dom to be an anecdote for the emotional pain he was feeling.
“Matt, I don’t have to tell you how deeply seeded and rooted BDSM couples are. V relationships have extremely deep bonds. These are sometimes more powerful than your average married couple. You and Gina have the same deep bond that Colin, Anthony, and Sydney have. With their hinge missing and clearly in trouble, Colin and Anthony are spinning off their axis. Losing Sydney is taking its toll. Now you’re telling me Anthony is self-destructing. Every little thing is taking a toll. Colin broke down last night about Sydney not eating. Matt, these two are torn up, and the emotional pain is going to turn into physical pain. Perfect example is Anthony’s visit with the Pro Dom. I can tell they aren’t sleeping. Are they eating?”
“Colin will eat when we put food in front of him. Anthony, not so much. He’s having nightmares, too. Physically he’s a mess.”
Chris continued to explain why Colin and Anthony need to be around people. I agreed and knew that I wouldn’t leave them. My parents were still in town and they’d help. I quickly called Blake while I was still outside and gave him the rundown. Blake said that he’d be over this evening and would bring dinner, and I’d go home after that. Blake was also going to talk to Will, Seth, and Evan about possibly sitting with the guys for a few hours each day.
I called my folks when I got back inside and asked if they could come over, and they were more than happy to. After all, that’s what they came out to do. My dad is a psychologist, and I think he’d be very good to have around right now. Gina was coming over, too. I’ve been trying hard to make sure
she isn’t alone either. This is taking its toll on her, too.
I let them in and my mom immediately went to hug Colin and Anthony. I told my dad in the foyer about the text and video. He swore, but I could tell that he had forced himself to try to calm down. I talked to Gina and asked her to see if she could take inventory of what they had grocery wise and what they looked like they could use. I was going to send her and my mom out to get some stuff.
Gina came back into the room and had a list prepared. My dad was talking with Colin while my mom and I went over to Gina. I kept my tone low and looked over the list.
“Good, sweetheart. Get some treats, too. Like cookies or something. Anthony is more likely to eat cookies and sweets. I don’t care what we have to get, just as long as he starts eating. Just don’t get anything with M&M’s,” I whispered to her.
My mom looked quizzically at me, and Gina said she’d tell her in the car. Last thing they needed was a meltdown over Sydney’s staple.
22
