Sawyer (Torey Hope: The Later Years #2) (18 page)

“As I got older, and especially after my mom got sick and wasn’t able to be around to protect me as much, their words turned more sexually demeaning. They’d ask if I wanted certain things done to me and then laugh when I didn’t know how to answer them. At the time, I knew I was more attracted to males than females, but I didn’t really understand the words and phrases they were hurling at me. I just knew they scared me.” Luke shuddered and Sawyer wrapped his arms around him.

“You’re doing great, thank you so much for allowing me into your story.” Sawyer just sat quietly, holding him, until Luke was ready to go on.

“The day my mom died, she brought me to her bedside and began to speak. Her voice was ragged and so very soft, like every word and every breath caused her pain. She pulled me close and whispered words that I will never forget.
‘Luke, my dear baby boy, you’ve not been shown love from a father, but you were born from the love of both a father and a mother. I’m sorry you will never know the man your father could have been. Please forgive me for allowing you to suffer at their hands. Don’t give in, don’t let them win…’
She stopped to catch her breath, but she never spoke another word. She died a few minutes later, with me holding her in my arms.” Luke sniffed.

“Babe, if you want to take a break, we can stop for a while.” Sawyer offered.

“No.”

Sawyer smiled into Luke’s shoulder, “Okay then, keep going.”

“I didn’t understand most of what she whispered to me, I was a distraught 15-year-old. But
‘don’t give in, don’t let them win’
has stayed with me from the moment she breathed her last breath. I knew that very day that I could keep my mom’s memory alive; I’d never give in to my attraction to men. If I never let a man touch me, or me touch him, if my body and heart never got what it longed for,
they
would never win. I was determined to never give in, never let them win.”

When Luke paused in his story, Sawyer closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Understanding of Luke’s panicked reactions and determined rejections made more sense now, but he knew there was much more of Luke’s story still to come. And he feared it was going to get uglier before it got better.

“I thought I’d had it bad when my mom was still alive, but when she died my life became a living hell.” Breathing deeply as if to prepare himself for what was coming, Luke continued. “Remember I told you that my mom had taken out a separate life insurance policy and her will stated the money was to go solely to me? Well, I graduated early and the lawyer in charge of her will made sure I got the money. I took off and never looked back. I feel grateful to her every day for leaving me that money; without it, I would have had nowhere to turn, and I don’t think I would have survived them any longer than I did.”

Sawyer knew he really didn’t want to hear what Luke had lived through, but he also knew that it would probably help him to talk about it, and it would help him personally to know what demons haunted Luke. “Can you tell me about what they did to you?”

Shifting slightly to curl into Sawyer’s body more fully, Luke whispered, “It started the day of my mother’s funeral. My father never physically hurt me, but he was just as bad because he’d let them do it; he’d just watch and smirk while they hurt me. It was like he was proud of them for giving me what I deserved.” He stopped, and Sawyer wasn’t sure if he was going to give more detail or not.

“In the first few days, it was just fists and kicks along with the hateful taunts. But then they started dragging me to the shed outside the house and hitting me with sticks, chains, belts. I learned quickly not to fight back, or it just lasted longer.” Briefly lost in his memory, Luke paused before going on.

“They beat me like that 2-3 times a week. I started hiding food away and gratefully accepting the breads and cookies and muffins the neighbor lady would sneak to me when my father and brothers were at work and school. I remember her asking about my bruises; I know she didn’t believe my excuses, but she never said anything more about them. Part of me wishes she would have turned my father and brothers in, but part of me feels like my past brought me right here where I’m supposed to be, so I can’t be too terribly upset with her.” He lifted up to kiss Sawyer gently.

“I had about a month left to go in my schooling, and I could see the early graduation date looming ahead of me. It was my carrot, my prize, the only thing that had kept me going during the months of abuse. I knew as soon as I graduated, I could leave there and never look back.”

Sawyer sensed the worst was about to be told.

“What they did next almost killed my spirit, my will to live, and I sometimes wished they had just killed me.” Swallowing deeply, Luke gripped Sawyer’s shirt in his fist. “They started using things on me when they’d beat me. A hair brush handle was first, but they quickly moved to the dirty, dry, rough handle of a rake. The searing pain would take my breath away. I was usually already so exhausted from the beating, I thankfully would pass out from the pain most times. The pain never got better, but waking up in the shed after that first time with the rake, I seriously thought I’d died. The pain radiated throughout my body, and I felt the blood pour down the back of my legs as I attempted to walk. I used to laugh bitterly to myself as I tried to sooth the injuries and block the pain that at least they waited to unleash this horror on me until the very end of my stay there. The last week of school before I graduated, they took me to the shed one last time. They chained me up, assaulted me with the rake handle while laughing and calling me a fag and asking if I liked it that way. My oldest brother laughed wickedly as he made my other brother orally assault my mouth. I fought, but it just egged them on. I ended up gagging so hard I puked and passed out. I woke up on the dirt floor, the taste of puke and filth in my mouth, the pain and shame screaming through my body.”

Sawyer had stopped breathing as Luke’s story continued to pour out.

“I left that night. I couldn’t take it any longer. I lived on goodies the neighbor lady gave me and snuck into the library to use the computers so I could finish school and graduate. The day I was officially awarded my graduation certificate, I went to the lawyer’s office and claimed the money. He helped me set up a bank account; we put the money in it, and I never looked back.”

“It took several months to heal from their physical and sexual assaults, and even more for my mind to heal from the abuse. The martial arts, yoga, and Pilates all helped me to center myself and work through the physical and mental anguish. And being here with you has helped to calm the demons too.” Luke kissed Sawyer again.

They were silent for several moments, each reacting to the story they’d just told or heard.

Sawyer fought anger and sadness like he’d never felt before. He wanted to lash out, to hurt, to cry; he wanted to hold, to protect, to comfort. Taking Luke’s hands in his, Sawyer fought back the tears. “Luke, thank you so very much for sharing your story with me. I hate what they did. I hurt for you, but I feel like I understand you so much better now.” Kissing him gently, lingering softly, Sawyer feared his next question, but he knew it had to be asked.

“Like I said, I appreciate you sharing with me, but I have to be honest and say that I don’t understand what happened to change your mind about accepting your feelings and wanting to be with me.” Sawyer’s brow crinkled.

“Ah, that’s where my trip out of town comes into play. Now we’re getting to the good stuff.” Luke smiled and stretched slightly before continuing.

“I went to my father’s house. I wanted to confront him and my brothers. Turns out my father died of a heart attack not long after I came to Torey Hope. My oldest brother is in jail for domestic battery. The other is dead of a drug overdose. My dad’s house was just left abandoned when he died. He was already in foreclosure and it was such a junked out mess by that point, the bank took valuables and personal items out and bulldozed the house. I learned all this from talking to people around town. So, I headed to the bank and asked if I could see any of the personal items. They required the lawyer who had handled my mother’s will to identify me, but once that was done they opened a safe deposit box. There wasn’t a lot in the box of monetary value or even sentimental value. I had no need for my father’s watch or his wedding ring.” Luke paused and let his words hang in the air.

“Okay, so what else did you find? You’re killing me here.” Sawyer smirked at him and Luke laughed at him.

“The anticipation is the greatest part.” Luke smiled.

“No, the greatest part is seeing you happy and home in my arms.” Sawyer tipped Luke’s chin and kissed him firmly. “Right where you belong.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” Luke kissed him back.

“Now, stop dragging out the anticipation and tell me what you found.”

“Okay, okay, so as I was digging through the box I came across this letter. It was addressed to me and dated about a week before my mom died. Inside the envelope was a small note to my mom’s lawyer asking that he see to it I got the letter along with the money. I’m not sure what happened, but the letter obviously never got to the lawyer. I have a feeling that my father had something to do with that.” Luke’s anger and hurt towards his father was still evident.

“So, they allowed me to take the letter out. I walked to the library and sat in one of the areas Mom and I used to sit in. I swear I had to read the darn thing at least ten times and by that time tears were pouring down my face so hard that people kept looking at me and asking if I was alright.” Luke gingerly pulled a letter from this back pocket. “Would you like to read it?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m all that interested.” Sawyer feigned indifference before rolling his eyes and kissing him. “Of course I want to read it!”

“Come over by the window, the light is better.” Luke walked to the window and held the letter out for Sawyer.

Taking it gently from him, Sawyer leaned against the window sill to read it.

My dearest Luke,

If my lawyer has given you this letter it means I’m no longer with you, but you now have money to escape and live your life freely.

I owe you an apology, baby boy. So many apologies actually.

First, I’m so sorry for keeping you in that home with those mean spirited, hateful men. You did not deserve that, and I should never have stayed.

Second, I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you for so long. I should have run away with you and told you the entire story from the time you were born. I regret so much, but this especially.

The man you grew up calling your father was not your father. The man who was truly your father was a man I fell in love with one summer while working as a waitress at the local café. He was a wanderer, much like my spirit wanted to wander, and much like I assume you will want to wander and live life to its fullest. I regret that I was not faithful to my husband, but sadly, by that point, he’d had so many mistresses I’d lost count. Your real father, Lucas, was the spitting image of you. He was kind, gentle, soft-hearted, and just a good man. He was only to be in town a week, but we struck up a friendship and neither of us could bear to think of him leaving. We gave in to the love between us, and you were the result. I’ve never once regretted that. You were born from the love of two people, and I know Lucas would have worshipped the ground you walked on.

He came back through town about a year after you were born. My husband had obviously put two and two together and realized you were not his biological son. I wanted so badly to leave town with Lucas, saving myself from a life absent of love, and saving you from a life of blatant hatred. Lucas gave me his address and told me to pack what I could and come to him. He watched you with such abject adoration, it killed him to leave his baby boy for even the short time it would take him to return home. We had such plans. We were to be a family. I packed a small bag and your baby essentials and waited until your father took his ‘real sons’ to a baseball game. Throwing our bag in the car and strapping you into your car seat, I left a brief note telling my husband that I couldn’t live like this any longer, and telling my older sons how much I loved them. You and I drove off towards Lucas’ home with the promise of love beckoning.

Upon arriving at the quaint cottage-like house Lucas had told me about, I excitedly stepped from the car and gathered my sleeping baby into my arms. I wanted nothing more than to walk into my love’s arms and stay there forever. But his house was dark, no car in the drive, and several days’ worth of mail overflowing his mailbox. As I debated what I should do, the older gentleman who lived next door came out. “Isn’t it a shame? Nice man like that mugged and shot for a measly few dollars? He would have given anyone the shirt off his back, no reason for him to lose his life like that. Truly is a damn shame.”

Not knowing what to do or what to say, I just blinked back my tears and loaded you back into the car. I had only one place to go so I headed back to the loveless house, gathered up the note from the kitchen counter, pretended the day had never happened, and promised to make your life the best it could be in the surrounding circumstances.

Luke, I’m so sorry you never got to know your father, your daddy. He loved me, and he loved you. You two would have been inseparable, best friends.

I never learned of more details about his murder. It was easier to close off my heart and focus on you than to dwell on the hurt of losing him.