Deliver Us (28 page)

“I believe you,” Gabriel says softly.

“Me too,” Darrek smiles back. “And it’s a damn good thing I made so much progress on those chairs today, and don’t have work tomorrow, because I have a feeling I won’t be standing
or
sitting for a while.”

“I guess that means I get to take care of you. Cook your meals, feed you, bring you cold drinks and keep you stocked with horribly bad movies to watch and the sports section of the paper to read...”

“God, now I really love you,” Darrek sighs. “Even more than when you fist-fucked me.”

Laughing, Gabriel says, “Oh, shut up.”

“I can’t believe you really fist-fucked me. My
ass
tells me it’s true, but still. That’s unreal. I’m so... so
proud
!”

“You’re such a kinky bastard,” Gabriel grins, still chuckling.

“Oh, you know you love me for it.”

“I do,” he agrees.

“Plus, it really is all your fault. You’re not just my master, you’re my
enabler
.” Pausing a second to think, he asks, “My ass is going to go back to normal, right? ’Cause I still need you to fuck me and I really want to be able to... you know...
FEEL
it.”

“Yes, it’ll go back to normal, but no fucking for a day or so.”

“Aw... bummer.”

“Well, at least no sex with
your
ass.”

“You don’t mean....”

“I don’t know. Maybe I do.”

“I love you, Gabe.”

“I love you too, Dare.”

Darrek walks downstairs after getting washed up for dinner. He smiles, seeing Gabriel at the sink. Gabriel is busy washing out pots and pans as well as a few of his favorite coffee mugs that he has started to keep on the bottom shelf of the cabinet above the coffeemaker. The simple fact that Gabriel’s coffee mugs have a home in his little house warms Darrek’s heart, and he loves Gabriel so much in that moment that he feels like he’s bursting with it.

Certain that Gabriel must have heard him coming down the squeaky stairs, his heavy footsteps perfectly audible on the hardwood floor, Darrek walks up behind him and places a hand on Gabriel’s waist, leaning in to kiss his neck.

“
NO!
” Gabriel gasps, going instantly pale, his body instantaneously rigid from head to toe, and his hand shooting out, too fast to see, to grab a knife from the drying rack. Spinning on his heels, he wields it at Darrek. He freezes, seeing the look on Darrek’s face.

“Gabe! Hey! What the...” Darrek frowns, grabbing the wrist holding the knife. He pries it out of Gabriel’s hand and sets it aside.

“
Shit
... I’m sorry,” Gabriel says breathlessly, his hands going to his face, “I’m so
sorry
, Dare.”

“I really scared you that bad?”

“No. Well, yes. I was... remembering something... and....”

“And...?”

“Never mind.”

“No, don’t do that. You keep doing that. Tell me. Please tell me. I can handle it. Why the hell would you grab the knife like that?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I do. I
do
want to know. I want to
know
about this stuff. I want you to be able to tell me so I can help you feel better.”

“I need some air,” he sighs, “I can’t breathe in here. Can we go outside?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

They head out through the back door and sit on the back stoop, watching Sierra dash after a robin pecking for worms, hopping around under a tree.

“This is better,” Gabriel says, taking a deep breath. “Much better.”

He was almost finished with the pile of dishes from supper, enough for five people, stacked neatly next to the sink, each piece of china washed thoroughly by hand. It was his main chore—washing the dishes—and he only had the big copper pot left to do that night. He could hear the crickets chirping outside and the radio was quietly playing the local independent rock station. They had been taking a break to do the weather report and station identification when Gabriel was suddenly knocked forward. Bent sharply in half over the sink, his t-shirt pressed against the small puddles of water on the counter’s edge, becoming damp and heavy.

“It was just one of those times of day when he knew he could get to me,” Gabriel explains. “My sister and brother would go out to meet with friends. My mom would go run errands or visit with the neighbors. It would just be him and me. And doing the dishes was my job, so... sometimes... I would
not
do them, and try to wait until everyone else went to sleep and then sneak downstairs to finish up. My mom didn’t like that though. Said I was slacking off.”

“No! Don’t...don’t touch me.” It sounded even more desperate that he’d intended it to.

A gnarled hand, vein-riddled but smooth since his stepfather had never done a hard day’s work in his life, reached out and pulled the large, pointed knife from the drying rack. Going instantly still at the sight of it in Harry’s hand, Gabriel squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the feeling of hands on his jeans.

“He would sneak up behind me, pull my pants down. A few times, he’d grab a knife just to make sure I wouldn’t fight back. Just the sight of it in his hand... knowing what he did with it... what he kept threatening to do....”

“Such a little whore, Gabey. Couldn’t even fit the tip of my pinky in here this morning. Now yer takin’ three fingers no problem.”

It was always over after just a few sloppy ruts, before he was even fully seated. Gabriel would just listen to the radio and pretend he was somewhere else.

Just when he thought it was over, he saw the knife move, as it caught the light from overhead and shone brightly in his peripheral vision. A hand moved and cradled his testicles. The other brought the knife around in front of him. He felt the blade press between his legs, dragged forward until it could go no further. Gabriel was sure it was cutting into him.

“Say thank you,” demanded the voice at his ear.

“No.”

“Say it, you little bitch. Think I won’t do it? Wanna try me? Or maybe you want to be a girl. Wanna be my girl, Gabri
elle
?”

Then it really was cutting him, and he yelped, “Stop! Okay! Th-th-thank you.”

“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Manners are important.”

“What did he do with the knife?” Darrek asks fearfully.

The reply he gets is quick and to the point. “Threatened to cut my balls off if I didn’t thank him for fucking me. Cut me pretty good, but, obviously, never did more than that. Just another way he liked to scare me. But that’s why I grabbed the knife in there when you surprised me, I guess. Just an instinct. Didn’t think about it.”

Gabriel laughs miserably, staring out into the yard, squinting up into the dying sunlight. Quietly, he confesses, “Sick thing is, that wasn’t even the worst part. I knew he’d never really do that anyway. No way he’d get away with it.”

Processing Gabriel’s words, Darrek gapes at him, “You’re kidding, right? What the hell could be
worse
than that?”

Gabriel shakes his head, falling quiet.

Taking Gabriel’s hand in both of his, Darrek waits, holding on.

“I don’t like talking about his shit. I don’t like it,” Gabriel tells him, shaking his head.

“I know.”

Sierra finds a broken-off tree limb and starts to play with it, snapping at leaves and barking excitedly.

“God, I wish I was a dog. Look how happy she is about a branch. That’s incredible.”

“Gabe....”

“I’ll get there. I will. You should know the whole truth; the whole thing. Just... give me a minute, okay?”

Sierra rips off a bunch of leaves and bounds over to them. She brings them right to Gabriel, dropping the clump of leaves, still attached to a stick, in his lap. Smiling, he scratches behind her ears, hugging her head.

“Good dog. Such a pretty girl,” he says softly. Darrek hears him sniff once, and looks over to see a tear fall down onto Sierra’s head. Gabriel kisses the golden fur then tosses the stick away. Sierra chases it, barking with happiness.

After taking a deep breath, Gabriel says out into the air, “He would make me finish washing the dishes with my pants around my ankles, and he’d just sit there... staring at me, and touching himself. I know it doesn’t sound that bad, compared to... well... but...” he rolls his eyes then keeps speaking, “His... his... you know... would start to... I would try to hold it inside... but some would... leak out of me. He’d come back over to me, scrape it off with the knife... make me lick it clean.”