Violated (29 page)

“You can tell me anything.”

He tried to smile but didn’t quite succeed. “Because of how emotionally fucked up I am, things that would have been automatic gestures of affection are kind of weird now.” He hesitated, half hoping Russ would interrupt with something reassuring. But he just looked at Derek expectantly. “I’ve been thinking, ‘He’d probably like it if I held his hand.’ And so I want to. But I’m not sure if I’ll feel okay about it or… feel
anything
. And I don’t want you to think the gesture means I feel something I might not.”

It was fucked up and he knew it. Now, if he did hold Russ’s hand, it would feel creepy. It would have been better for Russ if he hadn’t said anything. But he’d wanted to be honest, not lead him on.

Russ sighed and leaned forward. “Look, I need you to understand something. You don’t have to perform for me. You don’t have to smile if you feel like crying. You don’t have to cuddle if the thought of touching somebody makes your skin crawl. You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t feel like it.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Part of me wants to touch you and part of me doesn’t want to touch
anybody
. And I never know until I do it which part will win.”

“Then touch me and pull back if it doesn’t feel right,” Russ said reasonably. “I’ll understand.”

Even though he knew Russ wouldn’t want him to feel that way, Derek felt foolish and self-indulgent. He reached across the table and rested his right hand over Russ’s left. For a few seconds he did nothing more than rest it there, until he concluded that he liked the feel of Russ’s skin under his fingers. He stroked it lightly with his fingertips and glanced up to see Russ watching him closely.

Then Russ calmly picked up his cup of coffee in his right hand, sipped it, and asked, “How would you feel about going to Thanksgiving dinner at my sister’s house?”

“Have you already asked her?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of calling her tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Derek closed his hand around Russ’s.

“No, I don’t
have
to. But it’s what I would do if I were dating anybody else. And we agreed we’re dating, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then my sister won’t mind me bringing my boyfriend.” Russ rotated his hand so his palm was facing upward. “The question is, do you want to go? It’ll just be me, Shannon, and her husband, Bill. They also have a little boy. Jacob. He’s five.”

“Would I have to kennel Gracie again?”

“No. I always bring Max with me.” Russ closed his hand.

“Okay,” Derek said, “I’ll go as long as she doesn’t mind.”

“Great! And look at that,” Russ added, glancing down at their hands. “We’re holding hands.”

Derek smiled at him, a wave of affection overriding the little bit of nervousness he was feeling. “Yeah. Looks like we are.”

R
USS
WAS
in heaven. The dinner had gone well, even if he’d come close to poking his eye out with his chopsticks. He’d successfully ordered a coffee-like substance for Derek and hadn’t spilled it. And Derek had held his hand.

That had been huge. He thought he had some idea of how hard it had been for Derek, and he hoped he’d handled it well, succeeded in making himself nonthreatening. He also knew it didn’t mean they’d be holding hands all the time. But Derek had seemed to like it, so maybe he’d be willing to do it again.

Baby steps
.

By the time they got back to the house, his folks had gone to bed. Most of the house was dark, except for a light his mother had left on in the entryway and another in the living room. The night-light in the hall had been temporarily replaced by the Mickey Mouse light from the bathroom—Donald Duck was still in the guest room. Why his parents had Disney night-lights, Russ had no idea, but he figured some questions were better left unanswered.

“Do you want to sit up a while?” he asked Derek, keeping his voice low.

Derek yawned and flexed his arms, causing his biceps to stretch the fabric of his shirt enticingly. “What time is it?”

“Close to midnight.”

“I’m pretty beat. You wanna just turn in?”

“Sure.” Russ hesitated, not wanting to jinx it, but then asked, “Do you still want me in there with you?”

Derek smiled and took his hand again. “Come on, tiger.”

Of course, Russ knew better than to take that as a sexual invitation. Once they were in the guest room, each turned their backs on the other as they stripped to their underwear and climbed into the bed. Derek turned off the lamp on the bedstand, but Donald still cast a warm glow in one corner of the room, and the door was open a few inches. For safe measure, Russ tucked the spare pillow between them.

Derek laughed, but he didn’t tell him to remove it. Instead he leaned forward and gave Russ a light kiss on the mouth. “Thanks for lookin’ out for me, hon.”

The endearment warmed Russ from head to toe. “Did you have a nice night?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good. Then maybe you’ll go out with me again sometime.”

He couldn’t see Derek clearly in the dim light, but it looked as though he was smiling. “Maybe I will.”

T
HANKSGIVING
AT
Russ’s sister’s was great, even though Derek had been fretting about it for almost three weeks. He’d been reasonably sure Shannon and Bill would turn out to be wonderful people, based upon Russ and his parents. But he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being paraded in front of the relatives for approval. Not that Russ was doing it intentionally—it was just something people with close-knit families seemed to do. They wanted all the people they loved to love each other too.

The problem was, Derek didn’t feel very loveable these days. Despite Russ’s reassurances, he felt pathetic, beaten. Never mind the fact that he’d been too weak to fight Victor off—what kind of a man couldn’t have sex with his boyfriend? Couldn’t even sleep naked with him without feeling sick? They’d continued to share a bed after returning from Florida, but they were still keeping their underwear on. Derek nearly had panic attacks the first couple of nights back in the cabin without Russ’s parents and goddamned Donald Duck there to comfort him like a child. He’d woken up both nights, feeling frightened and disoriented, but he’d refused to get out of bed. He’d just reached down and stroked Gracie’s fur to calm himself until he’d been able to fall back to sleep.

One small victory in a long line of failures.

Eventually he’d adjusted to Russ’s presence, but they’d had to buy a night-light. At least this was just a flat panel that glowed a pale green—no more humiliatingly adorable cartoon characters.

But he was becoming financially dependent upon Russ, and he hated that. The mortgage payment had wiped Derek out, and now bills were coming due that he couldn’t pay. Russ had covered his electricity and cell phone for the month, and his propane tanks were running low. Derek hadn’t relied on anyone else to take care of him since he left home at eighteen, and he hated it. But so far his job applications—and he
had
been putting them out there—hadn’t even landed him an interview. He shuddered to think what Top Circle was saying about him when the HR departments from other companies called.

But for the couple of days they were at Shannon’s, he tried to put all that out of his mind. He couldn’t have opted out, even if he’d wanted to—not comfortably. The day before Thanksgiving, a massive snowstorm hit the state. It was early in the season for snow, but not unheard of—three years earlier, the “Halloween nor’easter” had knocked out power for over 300,000 people at the end of October. This storm wasn’t as bad, but practically everything east of Manchester was without electricity, including both Derek’s and Russ’s cabins. Russ had a generator, but there was little sense burning through his propane when his sister’s house in Keene hadn’t been affected at all. The roads were clear by early morning, so they drove to Shannon and Bill’s for dinner as planned. They were also planning to stay the night, since it was unlikely they’d have power restored in less than twenty-four hours.

T
HE
AFFECTION
between Russ and his sister was obvious, and Shannon seemed to consider Derek one of the family from the moment Russ introduced him. Unfortunately Bill made him a little nervous, as all large men did these days. Derek hated that, but he had no control over it. There was an uncomfortable moment when Bill embraced Russ and then automatically moved to embrace Derek. Derek tensed as soon Bill’s strong arms closed around him. Sensing something was wrong, Bill immediately released him. “I’m sorry. I guess we don’t know each other very well.”

Derek smiled wanly and tried to shrug it off, but Russ said quickly, “He doesn’t like to be hugged.”

“Sorry, bro.”

“No,” Derek said, “that’s okay. It’s just the way I am. Nothing personal.” But of course, it still made everyone uncomfortable.

Goddamn it!

He was able to settle in eventually. Bill came across more goofy than intimidating, once Derek got to know him a bit, and Shannon was like her brother—always trying to look out for everybody, including Derek. Their five-year-old son, Jacob, was a handful but adorable. And Thanksgiving dinner—cooked almost entirely by Bill, since Shannon had inherited her mother’s loathing of the kitchen—was amazing.

It was also nice that Shannon and Bill were very relaxed when it came to Russ and Derek touching or kissing. They weren’t doing a lot of it—Derek was still uncomfortable with much more than holding hands and a quick peck on the lips or cheek—but there were none of the odd looks or expressions of concern about “doing that in front of the children” Derek had suffered through the year he spent Christmas at Tim’s parents. He felt as comfortable as it was possible for him to feel these days.

Fairly late in the evening, after Jacob had demanded a kiss from everyone in the room, including Derek and both dogs, and Shannon had escorted him to bed, Derek found himself alone in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee by the fire. Russ was helping Bill with the dishes in the kitchen, and from the sound of it, they were horsing around as much as cleaning. Gracie and Max were curled up with each other in front of the fire, Max’s head nestled into Gracie’s ruff.

Shannon came back into the room and took a seat on the other end of the couch. “I thought he’d never settle down,” she said cheerfully. “It’s two hours past his normal bedtime.”

“Maybe he’ll sleep late,” Derek suggested.

“I wish. Not likely.”

Derek smiled in commiseration.

Shannon picked up her mug from the coffee table but made a face when she sipped it. “Ugh! Cold.” She set it back down. Then she glanced over her shoulder as if to verify they were alone before saying, “So…. Derek. Mom said you were in Tampa to report a crime to the police station there.”

“Um… yeah.” The pit of his stomach suddenly felt cold. He took a sip of his coffee, hoping it might warm him.

“I know it’s not any of my business,” Shannon said. “And I’m not bringing it up to accuse you of anything….” She hesitated. “Did Russ tell you anything about a conversation he and I had the weekend after the Fourth of July?”

That surprised him. “No. Should he have?”

“No,” Shannon replied. “And I guess I’m glad to hear he hasn’t said anything to you. He hasn’t said anything to us about you, either. Not as far as your reason for going to Tampa is concerned—other than telling Mom and Dad you had to report something to the police.”

“Okay.” Derek really wanted her to stop talking. Things had been going so well. Why did she have to spoil it?

Shannon shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “The thing is, I’ve been putting a bunch of things together in my head—the police report in Tampa, that you don’t like to be touched, that you needed to sleep with a light on and the door open… It’s starting to remind me of something I went through years ago.”

Derek felt his pulse quickening as he stared intently into his coffee mug.

“Derek… were you sexually assaulted?”

Russ wasn’t sure what happened. One minute everyone seemed to be having a good time and he was mopping up the water he and Bill had splashed on the floor during an impromptu water fight; then the next, the front door slammed loudly. He and Bill froze, looking at each other in trepidation.

A moment later Shannon walked into the kitchen carrying two coffee mugs. She set them on the counter and told Russ, “Derek’s upset. You should probably go after him.”

“What happened?”

“It was my fault. I thought maybe if he knew somebody understood….”

Oh shit
.

Russ leaned the mop handle against the table and ran into the living room. It was empty, of course, except for Max and Gracie by the fire, looking confused. Russ grabbed his jacket off the coat stand and heard Shannon calling to him as he reached for the door handle.

“Russ!”

He paused and glanced back at her.

She looked miserable standing in the archway to the kitchen. “Tell him… anything you have to.”

He knew what she meant. He gave her a quick nod and went outside.

The cold night air seared his lungs with his first breath, and he prayed Derek wasn’t wandering around where it would be difficult to find him—he’d left his jacket on the coatrack, and the temperature had dropped below freezing. There was still snow on the ground, but in the driveway, it was impossible to sort out which tracks led where. Russ slipped into his jacket as he checked the garage, but Derek wasn’t there. Bill’s truck and Shannon’s Nissan were both locked, so he wasn’t inside one of them.

Russ ran out to where he’d parked his Outback in the driveway. It was locked too, and he cursed himself for that. Maybe if he’d left it open, Derek would have taken shelter inside. He took a quick run around the house calling Derek’s name, but there was no response, and he didn’t see any footprints leading off across the yard or the surrounding fields. Finally he jumped into the Outback, started it up, and drove off down the road.