Safe in His Arms (15 page)

The beach.

Casey scrambled to his feet and took the long way around so that he wouldn’t go anywhere near his grandmother’s place. The way he was feeling, he didn’t want to see his grandmother ever again. Or for at least a year, until he could rub it in her face that he was fine. In a year she would see that he was great. In a year maybe he and Lon would still be an item. If only Casey could make him see.

The beach was nearly empty due to the early hour, so Lon was easy to spot. He was standing near the shoreline with his hands on his hips, staring out at the ocean. Casey could see his clenched jawline and tense muscles, which all pointed to extreme emotion—but was it anger or disappointment?

“Lon?”

The big man didn’t acknowledge him in any way, so he made a wide circle around him until he was in his line of vision.

“Lon? Will you talk to me?”

“Piss off.” The words were hurled at him, but without anger or any feeling. It was as if all emotion had been stripped from them until they were just words.

Casey tried to imagine how Lon was feeling. Probably like a criminal, he decided. He needed to set the record straight on that one.

“Just so you know, I’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks. My grandmother was wrong. I
am
a man. I know what I want, and she’s wrong.”

Lon didn’t respond. So he continued on.

“She was wrong the whole way. You and me… there’s nothing wrong in it. We’re both consenting adults. Yes, you’re older than me. But someone has to be older, don’t they?” Then a thought struck him and he went off track. “Unless of course you’re twins—but that would just be yuck. Unless on the other hand, you were both hot… then that would be just… wow… hot. I think. I don’t know. I’m going to have to investigate that line of thought later on tonight.”

Casey thought that maybe there was a roll of the eyes from Lon and a slight softening. So he stumbled on.

“Do want to know what else is hot? You and me. I reckon it’s damn hot. I love it, Lon. Those things that my grandmother said? Untrue. I’m going to have to get her to apologize to you, because what she said was untrue. Unfortunately I’m not talking to her for at least another twelve months, so I can’t get her to say she’s wrong.”

This time there was a slight shake of Lon’s head, and his tense shoulders dropped an inch.

“She hurt me, Lon. She reckons I’m mentally unstable, and that’s a blow to the stomach. But then I had to remind myself that she was wrong about you being a pedophile. She was wrong about me not knowing what I want, and she was wrong about me being a boy. So maybe she’s wrong about me being crazy. Tell me I’m not crazy, Lon?”

Finally Lon consented to make eye contact. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Casey. Foolish, perhaps, but not crazy.”

Casey cocked his head to the side. “Foolish because I want you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He pretended to think about it for a while. “Hmm. Do you know what? I don’t give a fuck. I want you. You want me. Fuck the rest of the world.”

That got a reaction from Lon. “Jesus, Casey. You’re a teenager. I’m robbing the cradle here.”

“Only for four more weeks.”

“I’m still going to be thirteen years older than you.”

“That’s just a number, Lon. Don’t get hung up on them.”

Lon had no answer to that. He just crossed his arms and scowled at the ocean. Casey took a step closer and reached out to touch his bicep. Lon jumped a good two feet.

“Don’t touch me!”

There was a cracking sound, and with dismay Casey realized it was the sound of his heart.

Chapter 9

I
T
WAS
truly a beautiful morning, as Lon had told Casey’s grandmother. It was a real pity then that it was also one of the worst days of his life.

Considering that he had coped with the death of his parents and baby sister, the arrest of his brother, and the disappearance of his other sister, all within a week of each other, comparing this day to those grief-stricken times was saying something. Of course not every man was accused of being a pedophile and had it shouted in his face. Not every man thought for a few minutes that maybe he
was
every single filthy thing he was being accused of. Not every man had his happiness turned on a pin and was plunged into despair in a matter of seconds.

Lon glanced at Casey—who was doing his own staring into the ocean—and swore inwardly.
Nineteen bloody years old
.

Lon could barely remember his nineteenth year. It probably had a lot of beer and sex and practical jokes in it. Those were the days before he needed to be grown up. He and Ronnie had run wild—still living at home, still being irresponsible, and still studying. Back then he had dreams and plans. Back then he had a family. Back then he was carefree.

Nineteen.

Fucking hell.

Lon’s first serious boyfriend had been Joel, and that was when he was twenty-one. He’d lasted all of four months before he cheated. He felt really bad about it, and when he caught Joel soon after receiving a blow job from a mutual friend, their relationship ended without rancor.

Mal had been the first guy he’d been in love with. And they only lasted a whole fourteen months. Love….

Could anyone be serious and faithful to a relationship when they were only nineteen?

Unbidden, an image swam in front of his eyes—long blond hair, laughing blue eyes, and the cutest little button nose you could imagine. Olivia. She’d been faithful.

Casey had moved and he was now sitting on the sand near Lon, his face resting on his arms, hidden from sight. Lon knew he was crying. With a sinking feeling, he glanced at the sky and asked God why he did these things. Lon was sure that he’d been through enough grief and shit in his thirty-three years that he should be immune to more until he was at least fifty.

With a sigh, he settled down on the sand next to Casey and tried to open a line of communication.

“Why did you lie, Casey? About your age?”

There was a bit of a sniff and a loud swallow before Casey replied. “I don’t know. You asked me how old I was that first night, and it was just a small stretch of the truth. I knew what you were really asking—was I old enough. And yes, I was.”

Lon sighed again and shook his head. “Fuck. Paul and Ronnie are going to be in hysterics over this one. How fucked up can I get?”

“It’s not you, Lon. It’s what other people think that you’re afraid of.”

He turned to Casey and saw that yes, he had been crying. “It’s not that, Casey-love. You’re not even twenty. Shit. That’s young. You have so many years to be growing and discovering yourself and meeting all sorts of people. I’m good for a quick tumble with you, Casey, but you can’t invest your heart. And I can see that you are, love. You’ll start relying on me, then you’ll say that you love me, and then we’re in trouble. Maybe it’s best if we cool it now.”

Casey swiped at his nose and looked soberly at Lon. “Lon, I haven’t been young for a long time. I think I first discovered I was attracted to guys when I was about twelve. At that age you fall in love with movie stars or maybe get a crush on a guy at school. Then the shit with my dad happened, and I guess you could say my sexuality got a bit lost for a couple of years. Sex and attraction were dirty words. But it’s amazing how resilient the soul is. I worked through the crap and fought hard against being gay. I didn’t want to be gay, but you can’t change your soul. Slowly I realized that I was once again feeling attracted to guys. But they were only a certain type of guy. Big guys. You know the type—footy players, martial arts stars, wrestling pros. I struggled with it, Lon. I was sure it was a result of my abuse. I was positive that I was attracted to guys who could fight off my dad and people like him. It was rather obvious.”

Lon nodded. He could see why Casey would be attracted to his physical type. But Casey wasn’t finished.

“I tried to stop. I went with guys who were of similar age to me and were small. Sure I can get it up when they’re touching me, but that’s just mechanics. I don’t want to be with them like you and me. You are… I don’t know how to say it. All I know is that you’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep. And sleep…. Shit. I don’t usually sleep well, Lon. I have sleeping pills galore at home, and none of that shit works. But you put me in a bed next to you and I’m out for eight hours straight.”

There was a hill of sand in front of Lon that he was building with concentration. But he was also listening. He knew what Casey was saying.

“I know why I sleep with you every night, Lon. You make me feel safe. But there’s more to us than that. If it was just a safe bed and a full night’s sleep, then I wouldn’t be hanging around with you outside the hours of sleep. Are you sexy? Shit, yeah. You turn me on and I can’t get enough. So is it just sex and sleep? Not to me. I come home from work and I head straight to you, like you’re blinking some sort of homing beacon on me. You said love. Well, I don’t know about that crap. Love isn’t a good word to me. My father loved me and look what he did. My mother loved me and yet ignored me when I begged and pleaded not to visit Dad’s place. My grandmother loves me and look at what she just said about me. Love? You can keep your words. I just know what it is inside me.”

“So what are you planning on doing when I’m not around, Casey? I’m back to the mines on Tuesday. Usually I’m gone for four weeks at a stretch.”

Casey’s answer was immediate. “I’m planning on waiting for you, Lon. There’s nothing else to do.”

Lon squished his impromptu sandcastle flat and started building again. “I was going to talk to you about it today and I’m unsure if this is the right time to be saying it, but I guess we need to talk about it so we can decide. I know that I like you, Casey. I was hoping to see more of you when I get back. But I wanted to ask your opinion on what we are.”

“What do you mean?”

Lon was digging a moat around his sandcastle and not looking at Casey. “I mean, I’m up for a quick fuck anytime. If someone shows interest, and it’s just physical, then I’m all for it. But I usually don’t go for it more than twice with the same guy. We’re past that now. So what are we? Are we in a relationship? Are we exclusive? I mean, if you want to be my boyfriend, then I expect you to be faithful. But you’re only nineteen—”

“Twenty!”

“And four weeks of me being away is a long time.”

“I want to be your boyfriend, Lon. Four weeks? I’d do four years. I can do exclusivity.”

“You shouldn’t have to. At your age I think I was with a different guy every couple of days. Back-room hand jobs were a way of life to me.”

“Do you know what, Lon? I’m gonna do it no matter what. Whether you say you’re my boyfriend or otherwise. We can talk on the phone while you’re away. I dunno where I’ll be living because I’m not staying with my grandmother, that’s for sure. But I want to get a computer, and then we can Skype. Maybe I can crash with Devon and Ash for a bit.”

That made Lon look up in alarm. “You’re not serious about not talking to your grandmother, are you? Because take it from me, family’s important and you can’t just throw it away like that. If we decide to make a go of a relationship, you’re going to be getting a million comments about our age difference. You can’t go flying off the handle at every turn.”

Casey’s indignation apparently rose to the surface, and he cried out, “But she called me crazy—and you a pedophile!”

“So? What happens when someone asks if you’re my son?”

Casey’s jaw worked as he thought about it. “So, are you saying you
want
to be my boyfriend? Because we can talk all about exclusivity and reactions and what to say, but in the end, if you’re not going to want to stick with me, then what’s the point? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re getting a totally raw deal. I’m not a prize boyfriend. I have a heck of a lot of mental issues and I fuck things up a lot.”

Lon stared out at the blue expanse in front of them. “My brother has mental issues.”

“Did he get over them?”

“No. His mental issues are not something he can ever get over. He’ll be on medication for the rest of his life. It’s not something he can change. I always thought I got the bad genes—being born gay’s not easy. But he…. He can hurt people badly if he doesn’t take his medication. For ten years I was with him every single day to make sure he took his tablets.”

“What happened?”

“He ran. Someone said something to hurt him, and he ran.”

C
ASEY
FELT
his mouth dry. Wasn’t that his first reaction too? A news report he didn’t like—so he ran. His grandmother said something he didn’t like—so he ran.
Fuck!
He really did need to grow up. “Did you find him?”

“Yes. But not until it was too late. He’d killed three people during his psychotic break.”

Jesus H. Christ.

“I hope you don’t blame yourself for that, Lon?”

“No. Not really. But maybe you don’t want to take a chance on me. I’ve failed before.”