by Abigail Roux
see if it was just someone he knew coming in and forgetting to
lock the door or something.”
“Oh,” Shane said as he repressed a yawn. Vic yawned as
well after hearing the sound. Shane was usually an early riser,
but it sounded as if he needed sleep too. “Is he okay?”
“I guess so. Apparently he’s too damn stubborn to call the
police since he is one, so he checked it out himself.”
“Fucking dumbass,” Shane mumbled as Vic heard the
sheets rustling in the background. “How’d that go?” Shane
asked wryly once he was settled.
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard back from him,” Vic
mumbled.
“Oh,” Shane grunted noncommittally. It seemed Shane
was of the same opinion as Vic that Owen had merely forgotten
to call him back, rather than something being wrong. That was
just the way Owen was. Life of the party, but not very reliable
unless he was in uniform.
“Yeah,” Vic said with a sigh.
“You were saying about a conference?” Shane ventured as
he repressed another yawn.
Vic fought another yawn. “Stop that,” he scolded. “You’re
making me sleepy.”
“You
should
be
sleepy,”
Shane
informed
him
unapologetically. “Are you going to the conference? The one in
Raleigh? I didn’t see your name on the agenda.”
“I was a last-minute add-on, apparently,” Vic told him with
a sigh. “I was wondering if I could bunk with you. Hotels are all
full.”
“Sure,” Shane answered immediately.
“You got any time off coming?” Vic asked Shane suddenly.
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“Yeah, actually,” Shane answered, perking up a bit. “I was
planning on taking it right after the conference is over.”
“Oh yeah?” Vic said with interest as he sat back up. “How
long?”
“Four weeks, baby,” Shane said with relish. “Heading to
the beach all by my lonesome to see how drunk I can get.
Why?”
“Want to stick around Raleigh and distract me for a few
days before you head out?” Vic asked with a slight blush.
“I guess so,” Shane said with a hint of suspicion. “Why?”
“Because.”
“That’s not a reason,” Shane told him flatly. “I won’t be
party to anything illegal… again.”
“Being heartbroken’s only illegal in certain parts of the
world, man,” Vic mumbled.
“I see,” Shane responded slowly. “Finally giving up on
him?” he asked carefully.
“I’d like to say yes,” Vic said softly. “But I’m a realist. It’s
going to take something drastic.”
“Like… copious amounts of alcohol?” Shane said
hopefully.
“Something like that,” Vic said with a sigh.
“Okay, I can handle that. I’ll send you the room
information and I’ll see you there,” Shane said with an
affectionate laugh before hanging up.
He hadn’t said goodbye, but then Shane rarely did.
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“Just push the goddamned button,” Vic grumbled aloud as he
stared at the display on his cell phone. Owen’s number was
already punched into the phone. All he had to do was hit the
button to send it. He was afraid to do it though. It had been
four hours and he had heard nothing from the other man. He
had probably just forgotten about Vic’s request that he call
him. He was probably busy, dealing with the police and
possibly going through his apartment to see what was stolen.
He didn’t need to be bothered.
Vic sighed and pushed the button anyway, and as he sat
listening to the phone ring he tried desperately to quell the sick
feeling it gave him. Contacting Owen always made him
nervous. He supposed it was some subconscious fear of
rejection. He was just fine when Owen initiated contact, but
when he had to do it he always worried about bothering him or
calling at a bad time or hearing that distracted “I’ve got better
things to be doing than talking to you right now” voice that
Owen tended to get when something was on his mind.
“Hello,” Owen mumbled before Vic could change his mind
and hang up the phone.
“Owen,” Vic said after licking his lips nervously. His voice
sounded nice and steady though, just as calm and cool as it
always was.
“Hey,” Owen said groggily. “Oh! Fuck, I was supposed to
call you, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Vic said
as his stomach twisted unpleasantly. He recognized it as a mix
between anger and his feelings being hurt. He had never been
angry at Owen before; it was a decidedly new feeling.
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“Sorry, man. It completely slipped my mind,” Owen offered
with a yawn. “I’m fine. Place got broken into, but they didn’t
take anything important.”
“That’s good,” Vic said in a clipped tone, growing angrier
despite knowing that what Owen told him was exactly what
happened before he’d ever called. He’d hoped differently, that
maybe one of the many thoughts on Owen’s mind after finding
that everything was intact would be to call Vic and let him
know he hadn’t been shot by some burglar in the middle of the
night.
At least he knew how high he was on Owen’s totem pole.
He had undeniable proof that he was just an occasional fly-by
rather than a lover. Or hell, even a friend. He didn’t even
warrant a call to say he was okay.
“Glad all your shit’s all right, man,” he said succinctly
before Owen could say anything else. “I’ll see you at work,” he
offered coldly.
He hung up the phone without bothering to say goodbye.
Shane’s luggage was piled up beside the hotel room door,
ready to head to the beach. Vic’s was packed up as well, ready
to head back home to his empty apartment.
The North Carolina Conference of Superior Court Judges
had gone smoothly. Dull as dishwater, as Shane had so
succinctly put it. Computer training classes, lectures on media
relations for judges, judicial independence, updates on
dispositive motions, and so on.
Vic’s part in the lectures had been to present and lead a
panel on evidence, specifically dealing with opinions and expert
25 Unrequited | Abigail Roux
testimony. It had been marginally interesting. Well worth the
chance to get away from home for a while.
Shane was spending one last night in town before he left,
treating Vic to a nice dinner out.
Vic wasn’t sure whether he was glad for Shane’s company
or not. Part of him was. It was keeping him from calling Owen
and losing a little more self-respect. And he was almost
pleasantly surprised to find that the longer he went without
talking to Owen, the angrier he became. He didn’t know if it
was an overreaction or just an emotion being magnified by the
helpless, lonely feeling that came with unrequited love.
He looked up from his plate suddenly and interrupted
Shane during the middle of a sentence. “Do you think I’m
overreacting?” he asked.
Shane waved a hand through the air and sat back slightly.
“What?” he asked, nonplussed.
“About Owen,” Vic answered with a frown. “Should I be
pissed?”
“About what now?” Shane asked in confusion.
Vic sighed and rolled his eyes, looking away at the next
table and the couple dining there.
“Vic,” Shane muttered as he leaned closer. “Can you even
tell me what I was talking about?” he asked with a frown.
Vic glanced back at him, his cheeks coloring slightly.
“Baseball?” he ventured with a wince.
Shane narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger at Vic.
“Lucky guess,” he accused.
Vic smiled slightly, but then closed his eyes and shook his
head. “I’m sorry,” he offered sincerely. “God, he’s driving me
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crazy,” he said in frustration as he leaned forward and put his
head in his hands.
“Get hold of yourself, man,” Shane scolded in a low voice.
Vic groaned and sat back in his seat. It would have been
funny to hear Shane deliver that line in any other situation.
“Is this about him not calling you back?” Shane asked
dubiously.
“Yes. No. It’s more than that,” Vic muttered as he picked
up his fork and poked at his rice. He looked up at Shane with a
frown.
“Are you sure it’s him you’re pissed at, Vic?” Shane
murmured.
“What do you mean?” Vic asked.
“I mean… you say he’s using you, but you’re the one who
lets him,” Shane pointed out gently. “You sure it’s not you
you’re pissed at?”
Vic inhaled deeply and nodded, looking away again.
“Does he even know how you feel about him?” Shane
asked hesitantly. He sounded almost as if he didn’t want to
know the answer.
“I don’t know,” Vic muttered. He should, Vic thought, even
though he’d never told him.
Shane was silent, watching him as he pushed his food
around his plate and told himself to stop brooding.
He sighed and smiled slightly. “Thank you,” he said as he
looked up at Shane. “I can always count on you when I need a
swift kick in the ass,” he said wryly.
“Trust me, it’s my pleasure,” Shane assured him.
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Vic’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket, and he
muttered an apology as he fished it out and looked at the
backlit screen. “It’s Owen,” he said in surprise.
He looked up at Shane as if for guidance. He knew if he
answered it, he would head right into whatever Owen wanted.
He would forget that he was angry until afterward, then he
would become even angrier for allowing it to happen again. It
was a perilous downward spiral.
Shane raised an eyebrow at him. “Answer it, don’t answer
it,” he advised as he held up two fingers. “Two simple choices.”
Vic scowled at him. It wasn’t that simple. He looked down
at the phone in his hand hesitantly.
“Vic,” Shane said in a low voice.
Vic looked up at him. Shane was shaking his head.
“Don’t answer it,” he ordered gently.
Vic stared at him as the phone vibrated again. Then he set
his jaw stubbornly and put the phone back in his pocket.
Shane smiled slowly at him, and Vic returned it with a proud
grin.
“Phase One completed,” Shane intoned with a laugh. “Now
just go throw the phone in that fancy koi pond over there and
we’ll go get drunk.”
Vic snorted and shook his head. “Phone stays dry. But I’m
open to the getting drunk part.”
“Deal.” Shane grunted as he slipped a few bills into the
black envelope the server had left and then stood. “Come on,”
he said as he took Vic by the elbow and dragged him out of the
restaurant. “I have an evil plan,” he informed Vic nonchalantly
as they walked to Vic’s car.
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“Does this one involve socket wrenches and teeth whitener
again?” Vic asked worriedly.
“No,” Shane answered firmly. Vic saw him trying to repress
a grin.
Shane had never really struck Vic as the Your Honor type.
He was laid-back and friendly, most of the time, unlike a lot of
the judges Vic dealt with. He was more apt to wear worn-out
jeans and a Jimmy Buffett T-shirt when he wasn’t in court
than he was to wear a suit and tie. He was comfortable with
himself and let things come as they may, seldom worrying
about what lay ahead, happy almost to a fault. And he
compartmentalized well: this problem belongs with work, and I
won’t let it bother me when I’m not there.
He was the type of man Vic sometimes wished he could be.
“What do you have going the next month?” Shane asked
him suddenly.
“What?” Vic asked in bemusement as the little blue hybrid
beeped at their approach.
“Obligations and that kind of thing. What do you have?”
Shane asked as he lowered himself into the car and sighed
heavily.
“Uhh… just work, really. Couple of cases with a rookie
prosecutor that I’m sitting for. Why? Is this part of your evil
plan?” Vic asked suspiciously.
“Come with me,” Shane said as he rolled his head back
and forth, cracking his neck.
“What?” Vic asked with a little laugh. “Come with you
where?”
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“To the beach. We’ve both got years of fucking vacation
days built up. Take a couple weeks. Get away. Go lie in the
sand somewhere and stay perpetually buzzed for a month.”
“Are you shitting me?” Vic asked incredulously. He looked
over at Shane, who was watching him expectantly, and he
laughed at his friend’s spontaneity. Had he not just been
thinking that he wanted to be more like Shane? What better
way to try than to spend more time with him?
“You know what?” he said finally, thinking of the
borderline depression he had sent himself into in the past few
weeks, unable to do anything with himself but mope around.
He was bored with his work, he was alone and lonely and
rapidly losing his self-respect. One of the few bright spots lately
had turned into a serious burr under his saddle. And now he
was mixing metaphors. Hell, he didn’t even have houseplants
to water. Why the hell not?
“Yeah, okay,” he said with a nod. “Let’s go.”
“Beautiful!” Shane exclaimed happily, though he didn’t
sound surprised that Vic had agreed.
Vic smiled. Shane knew him too well.
“We’ll buy you a bathing suit when we get down there. We
can leave tonight,” Shane outlined contentedly. “He
y! We can
take the long way, drive down the coast and see all those
places no one will go with me to see!”
“You’re a crazy fuck, you know that?” Vic said
affectionately.
“Hey,” Shane grunted at him. “I need a break, you look
miserable, and we both need a tan. Doesn’t sound so crazy to
me.”
30 Unrequited | Abigail Roux
II
The various places that no one would go see with Shane
turned out to be a variety of tourist destinations around the
Outer Banks. Despite all the time Vic had spent in North
Carolina—almost his entire adulthood—he had never been to
the Outer Banks. There were a lot of things he’d always wanted
to see: the array of lighthouses that lined the barrier islands,
Jockey’s Ridge, the Wright Brothers National Memorial, the
Lost Colony. His list of what he’d like to see went on and on
and he hadn’t ever really realized it.
Vic had managed to talk Shane down from leaving that
night, though. He’d argued they would need a plan of attack
before leaving and the hotel room was paid for already. So
they’d sat down and done some research, planning the best
route and what could be seen without too much effort. The trip
would require two full days of travel and one night in a hotel,
but it would be worth it.
They left late the next morning, heading toward Manteo,
North Carolina, at the northern tip of the Outer Banks. It took
nearly all day to get there, and by the time they drove through
the main drag of the whitewashed little township, it was getting
close to dinnertime.
“Should we try to go see the Lost Colony first, or eat?” Vic
posed as he maneuvered the roadways and the crazy tourist
traffic.
“It’s a national park, right? It probably closes at some
point,” Shane reasoned.
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“Lost Colony it is,” Vic agreed as he turned, following a
sign that headed them toward Roanoke Island.
There was a smattering of cars in the parking lot when
they finally reached their destination, most with out-of-state
