Read Before the Darkness (Refuge Inc.) Online
Authors: Leslie Lee Sanders
Tags: #erotic MM, #Romance MM
side and on top of his arm, pinning him to the
gravel slope. The pain in his arm rushed him
tenfold. "Jena!" he called out. "Jena, get help."
He blinked, realizing Jena wasn't there.
He must have been dreaming. Reliving an
agonizing memory he'd rather forget. The
person he should have been calling out for was
Elliot, but he wasn't there either.
He lay there, allowing light lakes of dust
to feather across his face. Steadying his
breathing, he tried to move. Stuck and in a panic
he kicked his feet and tried desperately to free
his arm which was trapped under the car from
his shoulder. The pain was unbearable,
excruciating even though his fingers were numb.
How long had he been lying there with a car
halfway on top of him? He had no idea how
much time had passed or if Elliot was in a
similar unfortunate predicament. Hell, had Elliot
done what
he'd
set out to do and found Refuge
Inc.?
The thought quickly escaped him when
the pain increased. He cried out like a wild
animal clutched in the painful grip of a bear claw
trap. He lay still, motionless, and the pain
lessened. He could see the mangled car easily,
and even make out the wall next to him, the wall
that held the car up on its side, preventing it
from falling over and off of him. Light suddenly
illuminated around him and he remembered his
lashlight. He moved his head, looking around at
his surroundings, searching for the lashlight
with limited mobility. The lashlight rolled a little
down the slope and rested too far away for him
to grab it.
Nausea unexpectedly hit him and his
stomached clenched. He heaved but nothing
came out. Was Elliot okay? Was he lost or
seriously injured? Would Elliot forgive him for
pushing him down, for hurting him, for leaving
him?
Elliot had said that they would never see
each other again if he left. Had he ful illed that
prophecy? What more could he do if he was
stuck under the car forever but die? He would
die without telling Elliot how sorry he was, how
stupid he was, how much he cared for him.
The pain returned. Adam bit his lower lip
and groaned through his nose. He knew better
than to do something as stupid as jump off of a
freeway overpass. Even at the last minute when
he had a change of heart and tried to climb back
up, he knew how crazy the idea was. What was
he thinking? He knew the dangers and chose to
ignore them. Now look at him. Some hero.
A warm relief grew between his legs and
he hadn't known he was urinating until the
liquid ran over his groin and soaked his jeans.
Even knowing what was happening he couldn't
stop it. Suddenly the feeling of helplessness sunk
in. Humiliation and shame washed over him.
Even though he was the one who left the
hospital, he felt abandoned and worthless. The
urge to see a familiar face, to hear the voice of
another human being, to feel a human presence
overwhelmed him. The urge quickly turned into
more than a necessity. He felt hollow, like an
empty shell, like nothing. And he understood
that feeling to be death. The death he dreaded
and had escaped by denying who he was, who
he was always meant to be.
Finally, he experienced the inevitable …
his tortuous suicide.
Maybe he
was
dying. Maybe he was
bleeding out from somewhere, maybe the warm
sensation between his legs was blood. He lifted
his head to take a look, but couldn't hold his
head up long enough to inspect. With every
move the pain in his arm increased. Besides, it
was too dark down there to make out the
presence of blood anyway.
He used to wonder what it felt like to
have death on your heels. And now he knew.
Every path they took and every detour was an
attempt to escape death, but it had inally caught
up with him. The Adam he was familiar with had
perished and was simultaneously going to die
halfway pinned under a burnt and twisted heap
of metal.
Now he was worse off than having an
asteroid fall out of the sky hurling down toward
him. At least with the asteroid he had a chance.
Pinned under a car, in pain and no one around
to help him was much worse. "What a way to
go," he mumbled through clenched teeth.
A strange noise echoed in the distance,
pulling him from his grim thoughts. He struggled
to hear where the sound came from. Pain sliced
through his arm and shoulder like a sharp,
heated blade. His eyelids closed and all went
peaceful.
Calm seized him. Adam heard the faint
sound of a voice. Someone was calling his name.
He opened his eyes to an intense bright light.
Was this the end? Was this that infamous white
light at the end of the tunnel guiding him to
whatever came after? Then he heard the sound
of lapping as a wide, wet tongue licked his face.
"Adam!" Elliot knelt beside him and
placed his hand on Adam's chest, putting the
lashlight down near them. "Oh, shit. Shit! Adam?
What happened? You okay? Can you move? Can
you hear me?"
"One question at a time." Adam grimaced,
his arm ached and throbbed. "I climbed down
and it fell and—" He pushed the slurping dog
away.
Elliot gasped. "You climbed down from
up there?" He shined his light up at the bridge
with a puzzled looked on his face. "Why?"
"I saw another R," Adam murmured.
"Thank God I saw your flashlight shining."
Elliot scoffed, shaking his head. "How do I get
you out of this? Here, grab my arm. I'll pull you
out."
"No, no. It'll hurt like hell." Adam
wondered if Elliot understood what he just said
about the R or just chose to ignore it for now.
"It'll hurt?" Elliot shook his head again, a
breathy urgency in his voice. The sound of him
trying to keep his composure but inding it
dif icult. "Wouldn't it hurt less if I pulled you
out? Maybe I can lift it." Before Adam could
protest he stood and limped to the front of the
car, out of Adam's sight. Titan followed and
must've got in the way, causing Elliot to demand,
"Sit and stay. Okay, Adam," he said, getting
Adam's full attention. "I'll count to three. On
three you slide out, okay?"
"Elliot, no."
"Yes, yes. I gotta try something!"
"You can't—"
"You trust me?"
Adam wanted to remind Elliot of his own
wound on his leg and tell him he didn't have the
strength to lift a car, but the thought of Dark Lad
—with the ability to lift anything no matter the
size—coming to his rescue, fueled his optimism.
He crossed his ingers. "Okay, on three." Adam
braced himself. He listened as Elliot prepared
himself too, and inally the sound of gravel
beneath Elliot's feet quieted.
"Okay, one, two, three." Elliot grunted.
Adam knew he was trying desperately to
lift the car but the car wouldn't budge. After a
second, the car slightly rocked toward him,
sending a bolt of sharp pain up his shoulder and
down his side. "Stop!" Adam cried. "Just stop."
He panted and groaned, trying to control the
pain.
Elliot returned to his side, panting and
idgeting. "It's too heavy and I think if I keep
messing around with it I might tip it over on top
of you. Fuck." Elliot turned his head, looking
around their environment, probably trying to
come up with a better idea.
"Someone
just
painted an arrow on the
bridge, pointing to that van over there." Adam
gestured with his uninjured arm. However,
doing so drained him of energy. "I climbed down
to get to it."
"Did you see who painted it? Do you
think they're still around here?" Elliot's eyes
glistened with wetness, tears he kept at bay.
"Maybe they can help, huh?"
Adam's luck had run out. There was no
one out there who could help him. "Maybe."
"Help!" Elliot called out, his pained voice
echoing in the isolated streets. "Somebody help
us!"
"Elliot." Adam sighed, his voice lowered
as his words slurred. "I'm fucked."
"No, you're not. All we have to do is—"
"I feel … strange. Like, almost like … I'm
dying."
"What are you talking about?" Elliot
dipped his head to look into his eyes while he
gingerly placed his hand on Adam's chest. "It's
just your arm. People live … without an arm all
the time. And I don't even see blood. It's not that
bad."
"I didn't climb down," Adam admitted,
eyes blinking slowly, speech slowing. "I fell. I
could be bleeding inside."
It was silent.
Adam closed his eyes for a welcomed
moment and opened them to an angry glare on
Elliot's face.
Elliot's voice was low, guttural and full of
anger. "You asshole. You're just gonna lay here
and give up? You gonna give me some pussy
excuse to give up on me?"
"Elliot, there's nothing we can do." Adam
pleaded with his eyes for understanding. "I'm
fucked. Look at me. I'm fucked!"
Elliot waved a dismissive hand. "Wanna
know the plan? Well here it is. I'm gonna ind
whoever is spray painting this goddamned place
and drag their ass back here to help me get you
outta here. That's the plan."
"I feel it. Inside of me. It's a hollow
feeling. It's over." Adam went on as his body
slowly weakened.
"And you're gonna hang tight until I get
back."
"What if I'm gone when you get back?"
Adam said, forcing Elliot to acknowledge the
possibility. "What if this is it?"
Elliot plopped down next to Adam and
stared ahead at nothing. He swallowed
repeatedly, his Adam's apple rising and falling
again and again. Adam knew he was trying to
keep calm and control his emotions. "The 'what
if' game, huh? I hate that damned game."
"Yeah," Adam whispered.
The silence, the stillness, the need to
emotionally release lingered in the air. The
unnerving sensation twisted in the hallow pit of
Adam's gut. His arm went numb again and the
urge to close his eyes beckoned him. "Always
wondered something about you, but never
asked."
"What is it?" Elliot hugged his knees to his
chest and idgeted with his hands as he stared
off in the distance.
"The way you blink—"
"I'm surprised you didn't ask earlier."
Elliot wiped at his eyes with the back of his
hand. "It's blepharospasms. A condition I had as
a kid. It only happens when I'm stressed, or
don't get enough sleep, or the light's poor, or—"
"I think it's sexy," Adam interrupted,
confessing. He rested his head back and inally
closed his eyes. A smile twisted his lip.
Elliot sniffed. "When I hit you, did it
hurt?"
Adam forced his eyes opened and turned
his head to look at his friend, his companion, his
lover. "It hurt but not on my face." It was silent
for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours
during which he silently appreciated why his
heart ached worse than his injury.
Then Elliot spoke, breaching the stillness.
"Sorry for hitting you." He gulped. "You know,
there was something I wanted to ask you too."
"Now or never."
Elliot cleared his throat. "Why didn't you
ever marry … her? You were with her long
enough to do it."
Adam huffed. This was his chance to fully
come clean. He owed Elliot that much. "Was
stalling."
"You admit that you wanted a baby and
wanted to get married because you were trying
hard to be straight?"
"Don't know." Would it be so terrible to
admit that now, at a time like this? Did he want
to end it knowing Elliot was right about Jena and
his engagement? Would admitting it mean he
was a bad person?