IslandAffair (9 page)

The next couple of days seemed to suggest otherwise.

On the morning after Rob’s seizure when John went out to
collect the mail he found a biblical flyer with passages underlined in red. It
was done with such vehemence that there were small holes in the paper where the
pen had ripped through. John had still been staring at it when the phone rang.
He raced upstairs to grab it before Rob woke up and was greeted with a
suspicious female voice.

“Who the hell are you?”

“John MacAllister, I’m a friend of Robin’s.”

There was a short pause. “I know who you are, John. This is
Joanne, Rob’s sister. I’ve had eight phone calls this morning asking when my
brother ‘turned gay’ and ‘just letting me know’ he had a fit in the middle of
Main Street while walking hand in hand with another man and asking if I thought
that was God’s way of punishing him.” John heard her disgust loud and clear.
“How is he?”

He scowled. The people in this town sure worked fast. “Still
asleep.”

“Good. He’ll be sore when he gets up. Make sure he takes his
meds and some painkillers after he eats.”

“Yes ma’am.” John rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

“Don’t ma’am me, it makes me feel like my mother.”

“Sorry, uh…”

She sighed. “Just call me Joanne.”

“Right, okay.”

“Don’t hurt my brother or I’ll be coming over there to cut
off your balls with a rusty knife.” John felt said balls try to crawl up into
his body at the steely determination in her voice. He didn’t doubt her. “Get
him to call me when he wakes up.” She hung up before he could reply and he was
left feeling as if he had been run over by Hurricane Joanne.

Robin woke up as sore and tired as his sister had warned but
seemed otherwise well. He called Joanne to update her and reassure her that he
was okay as soon as he had eaten and came off the phone cheerful and smiling.
Not wanting to upset him, John didn’t mention the flyer in the mailbox that
morning.

When they went to the park for some fresh air later that day
there were more stares and a few muttered insults but his lover seemed
undeterred. He kept John’s hand in his own, though he became visibly angrier.
John hated the skin-crawling sensation of eyes on him wherever they went. There
was nothing to be done about it, they couldn’t hide in the apartment. It would
maybe have been wiser to take things a bit more slowly but Rob seemed to have
adopted the Band-Aid theory. The quicker you did it, the less it would hurt.
Nothing John said made any impact, except to make
him
the target of
Rob’s anger.

The following day the phone calls started.

They ranged from concerned friends to vitriol interspersed
with a few hang-ups. Whenever Robin heard a familiar voice rebuking him he
seemed to shrink further into himself until finally John pulled the phone from
the wall. When he went out to collect the mail and found the word FAG
spray-painted on the door in lurid pink it was the final straw. He stomped back
upstairs and called the police. They arrived and shook their heads, tutted over
the vandalism and suggested they get caller ID on the phone but there wasn’t
much else they could, or would, do. It was their parting statement that had Rob
putting a restraining hand on John’s arm though.

“Maybe you gentlemen should try to be a little less
provoking?”

Provoking?
Holding his partner’s hand in public was
provoking
?
Hell, they hadn’t even
kissed
. What would the good townsfolk do then? Burn
rainbow flags on the hood of his car? John seethed and paced until Robin pulled
him into his arms, halting his angry motion. They kissed languidly, hands
caressing until his body relaxed and his cock was pressing hard against the
zipper of his jeans. He moaned against Rob’s mouth and rubbed against his
matching hardness.

“Ah, what you do to me,
leannan
.”

“Let it be, John. I knew this wasn’t going to be fun.”

John reached for the button of Rob’s jeans. “We’ll make our
own fun. Fuck ‘em.”

Robin laughed. “No. Fuck me.”

John sank to his knees as his lover’s erection sprang free
from the confines of his jeans. He kissed his way down from Rob’s hip to nuzzle
at the base of the hard, straining flesh. Rob’s fingers threaded into his hair
and John took his cock into his mouth, the bitter taste of pre-cum painting his
tongue. The hands in his hair tightened as he worked his way down the shaft
until it nudged the back of his throat and Rob gasped, hips thrusting
involuntarily.

John gripped Rob’s buttocks tighter. He knew he’d be leaving
bruises on that pale flesh and the thought of seeing his mark there made his
own dick throb in his jeans. He groaned, stroking the underside of Rob’s shaft
with his tongue as he withdrew and the younger man shuddered. He repeated the motion,
shifting his grip to put one hand on the base of Rob’s cock, using the slick
moisture of his own saliva to work it in time with his mouth.

Rob began to moan, fingers gripping John’s hair, the sharp
pain of it helping John fight off the urgency of his own orgasm. He let his
teeth just graze the taut skin of Rob’s erection and he cried out, filling
John’s mouth with his thick, musky seed. John swallowed, licking and sucking
until his lover’s cock had softened completely. He stood and kissed Rob softly.
The other man met his eyes and began unfastening John’s pants, pushing them
down his hips.

“Your turn, love. I want you inside me. I want to feel you
with me when I hear what they think of me and know that it doesn’t matter
because I belong to you.”

Rob pulled out a condom and a packet of lubricant from his
pocket and turned to lean against the back of the sofa. With shaking hands John
quickly rolled on the latex sheath and coated himself with the lube. Hissing
when the touch of his hand threatened to bring him off. Rob watched over his
shoulder with hungry eyes, biting his lip when John slid fingers slick with the
cool liquid into his body.

“Do it, love.” He pushed back against him while John pushed
his dick slowly into his tight heat. John steadied them both, wrapping his arms
around his lover’s slender body, meeting his mouth in a kiss that was clumsy in
its eagerness. They began to move together, grunting as thrust met thrust. The
climax John had denied suddenly flooded him. He bit Rob’s shoulder and gave a
wordless cry. They slumped bonelessly, each enjoying the closeness of the
other’s body before the discomfort of their position forced them to move. John
pulled out gently and kissed the mark he had left on his lover’s shoulder,
making him shiver.

“Come on,
leannan
, let’s get cleaned up.”

Robin was quiet and visibly nervous when John dropped him at
work that afternoon. The parking lot was almost empty around them. John hoped
it wasn’t a sign of how Rob’s class was going to go.

“It’s going to be fine, Robin.”

The younger man grimaced. “I know. I just wish I could press
fast forward and get this part over with.”

John studied him. “We don’t have to stay here, you know.
There are other towns. We could make a fresh start. I have enough money until
we get settled.”

Robin closed his eyes briefly. “This is my home, John. It’s
far from perfect right now—”

“Very far,” John muttered.

“But I love it here. I’ve known most of these people my
whole life. I need to try.”

“I just hate seeing you like this.”

“I know, hon. I’m trying to be all noble and see myself as a
trailblazer for the gay community of Barretts Cross.” He smiled wryly. “I
know
I’m not the only gay member of this community. Maybe I can help someone else.”

John smiled back. “I’ll be sure to bill them for the phone
cable I ripped out yesterday and the paint for the door. Are you sure you’ll be
okay?” He didn’t like that the shadows had deepened beneath his partner’s eyes.

“I’ll be fine. I’m never alone for long at work. Everyone
knows about my seizures.” Robin leaned across and kissed him quickly. “I have
to go.”

John watched as the other man walked into the building with
a quick wave. He knew Robin meant it as a reassurance but it didn’t make him
feel better that everyone knew about his condition. If anything it made him
more anxious. Some of the threats they had received had been pretty serious and
the whole damn town knew that Robin had a vulnerability. Like it or not, when
Rob had a fit he was helpless and John didn’t like it. He knew the other man
would be pissed off to hear it though, so he forced himself to drive away. On
impulse he turned in the opposite direction from town, needing to get away from
the prying eyes for a while.

In a few moments he had left the outskirts of the small
community behind him. The hills and trees around him on the deserted country
road made him feel lighter. The weight of the disapproval of Barretts Cross
lifted from his shoulders for a while. He could understand Robin’s attachment
to his hometown; it was where he had grown up after all. Where his family was.
It was also familiar to him. John had spent a little time the other night while
Rob slept reading up on brain injury and it made him understand why that
familiar environment was important. After those kinds of injuries being in a
familiar place helped with recovery, making the person feel secure and
providing the mental cues the brain needed to recover. They would stay as long
as Rob needed to but so far there was little about the town he would miss.

He glanced in the rearview mirror noticing a car that was
just a little too close and pulled as near to the side as he could, slowing a
little to let the impatient driver pass. Instead of pulling ahead the other car
moved closer. It was a moment before John recognized the silver paint and
tinted windows from the other night. This looked like the car that almost ran
them over.

“Juvenile delinquents my arse.”

Realizing the other car had no intention of passing him, he
put his foot back on the gas pedal and let the speedometer climb to just over
the speed limit. The other car stayed on his tail for an instant before the
driver sped up and nudged the SUV’s back bumper. John gritted his teeth and
fought his own car’s steering until the silver car backed off again. He pulled
out his cell phone, intent on calling the police but before he finished dialing
the other driver pulled into the oncoming lane and accelerated aggressively.
The nose of the other vehicle came level with John’s rear panel and swerved
into him with a jolt that knocked the phone out of his hand before braking to a
safe distance.

John’s SUV fishtailed and he fought for control as he
skidded and careened toward the side of the road. The heavy vehicle barreled on
despite his efforts, crashing into the drainage ditch and coming to rest almost
gently against the base of a tree. Metal ticked as it cooled and a quiet
hissing emerged from somewhere in the engine as steam escaped the radiator.
About six inches of water filled the passenger side of the car. John cursed and
fought his way out of his seat belt, clambering half out of the driver-side
door. The other car was idling in the road a hundred yards away and as he
watched, the passenger window rolled down. John squinted to see the driver but
the sun was low in the sky behind the car, making it impossible. He heard the
pop of the gun at the same time the side mirror exploded beside him, sending
glittering shards of glass into the air, stinging his face.

“Shit!” John ducked back into the car and heard another two
bullets slam into the metal chassis. He dropped down to lie in the dirty water
against the passenger side door and hoped he was below the level of the ditch.
He was a sitting duck. John eyed the still-intact window and wondered how hard
it would be to break it out. Before he could attempt it, the eerie silence was
broken by the sound of another engine. Tires squealed from the direction of his
assailant and he heard the car accelerate away. Cautiously he hauled himself
back up and peered over the door. The silver car was gone and a tractor rumbled
slowly up the road toward him from the opposite direction. John dropped his
forehead against the door in silent thanks and climbed up to wave. The tractor
pulled to a halt beside him and an old man climbed down. His plaid shirt and jeans
were stained with dirt and damp with sweat.

“You get in an accident, son?”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he clambered out of
the wrecked car. “Yes sir. Hit and run. I’ll need to report it to the police.”

The man squinted at him from a weathered and sun-browned
face as though assessing the truth of his words. He fished a battered cell
phone from his pocket and offered it silently. John quickly called the police
and turned to look at the SUV. The old man joined him, handing him a clean handkerchief.
“You’re bleedin’ some.” He gestured at John’s face where the glass had caught
him. John took it gratefully and gently wiped the cuts.

“That a rental?”

“Yes sir.”

“They’re gonna be mighty pissed.”

“Yes sir, they are.”

“Sheriff’s gonna be pissed too, when he sees those bullet
holes.”

The sheriff was indeed pissed. Mostly because the report
about John’s and Rob’s near miss from a few days ago hadn’t been passed on and
no one outside Barretts Cross had been looking for the car. It was going to be
embarrassing all around that the same car had now been involved in another,
more serious incident. John didn’t give a shit how embarrassing it was. Someone
just tried to fucking
shoot
him. What the hell?

Night was falling by the time they finished asking him questions,
the farmer had long since climbed back on his tractor and left. John looked
anxiously at his watch while he waited for the deputy to drive him back to
town. He called Rob at the pool and told him the car had broken down. It took a
lot of convincing to persuade Rob to get a taxi home. There was no way he was
going to tell him what had happened over the phone. The other man had sounded
subdued and unhappy, work had obviously not gone well and John didn’t want to
upset him more.