Give Yourself Away (11 page)

“Am I nearly there yet?”

A hand wrapped around his ankle and Caleb hugged the wall in panic. Fuck.

“Look down.”

Caleb risked a look. March stood on the ground and hardly needed to stretch to touch him. “Ah, right.”

“I won’t let you fall. Let go and you’ll see.”

Let go?
Was he crazy? Caleb took a deep breath and kept climbing.

He was slow. He knew he was slow, but March kept shouting encouragement and Caleb kept going until at one point he was plastered against the rock like a starfish, arms and legs spread. He was fairly sure he could hear March laughing.

Caleb’s heart was hammering and his fingers were killing him. And he was thinking of killing March when he got back down. The thought brought him to another halt. How the fuck did he get back down? He’d have to feel for the footholds rather than see them.

“You okay?” March called. “You’re nearly there. A few more yards. Easy. But go up, not sideways.”

I’ll give you fucking easy.

Caleb hauled himself up the last few feet and wrapped his arms around the top of the wall.

“Well done.”

Don’t look.
He closed his eyes. “How do I get down?”

“Let go and rest back in your harness as if you were sitting in a chair. Then as I lower you, straighten your legs so your feet are the same height as your waist, and just walk down the wall.”

“There’s a bit of a problem with that,” Caleb called.

“What?”

“There’s no way I can let go, let alone lean back.”

“Yes you can.”

No I fucking can’t.
“What if I tip over and end up upside down?”

“Not going to happen. Even if you did, I’d—”

“See! You said ‘even if you did’, which makes it a possibility.”

“Trust me. I’m a Jedi. Let go.”

Caleb clung tighter. He’d once been a Jedi too and it hadn’t saved him.

Chapter Eleven

Tye curled up naked on the mattress, sucking his thumb.
It was the only way he could stop himself crying. Baxter had teased him about it, trying to make him smile. Oh God, Baxter. He tried to imagine Baxter running across the fields, finding a house, telling the people inside what had happened, them calling the police and the next time the cellar door opened, he’d see the cops.

He’d do anything for Liam not to find Baxter, for him not to be hiding in the house, but getting farther away with every step. Tye jerked upright when the door opened, but it was Liam and his hope was snuffed out like a match falling into snow.

Liam came down holding cable ties and tape, and scowling. He hauled Tye to his feet, slapped his face hard, and Tye bit his tongue.

“You little bastard.” Liam spat out the words.

He’d left the cellar door open. Tye fought and kicked, but Liam smacked him over the head and it didn’t take much for him to be restrained. Liam fastened his hands behind his back and pressed tape over his mouth.

“The two of you planned that, didn’t you? Think you’re so fucking clever.”

He threw Tye over his shoulder and held on to his legs as he walked out of the cellar and the house. Tye blinked in the bright sunlight and struggled harder to get free, but Liam held him tight. He opened the back of the van and threw him inside, banging Tye’s head. Then he zipped him into a sleeping bag and pulled the toggle so Tye was entirely encased like a mummy. The van door slammed closed.

Tye could feel tears trickling down his face. It was already hard to breathe and he was frightened his nose would get blocked and he’d suffocate. He could taste blood from where he’d bitten his tongue. Better than the taste of Liam’s come, though most of it had hit his cheek because he’d wrenched his head out of Liam’s hands when he’d spurted into his mouth.

But none of that mattered. Liam was going crazy because Baxter had escaped. Everything Tye had done had been worth it because Baxter was free and he’d tell the police and they’d find him.

His hands were too tightly secured for him to break loose, and when tugging made him breathe faster, Tye gave in and instead rubbed his face against the sleeping bag until he’d peeled away a little of the tape, enough to let him suck in air through the side of his mouth as well as his nose.

Baxter had the number of the van so if Liam drove away, they’d still get him. Except why hadn’t Liam already driven away? Wouldn’t he want to get as far from here as he could? Tye’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what was happening. Had Liam seen Baxter? Was he running after him?

A muffled roar made him start. He didn’t recognize the sound but it got louder. Then the van started moving.

Baxter will tell them. Baxter will save me.

Tye repeated the words over and over in his head.

* * *

As Caleb clung to the top of the wall his legs began to jitter uncontrollably. “Fuck,” he whispered and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Take the weight off the balls of your feet,” March called. “That’s why you’re shaking. All you need to do is let go and lean back.”

All? The last thing he felt like doing was letting go.

“You can’t stay up there forever.”

“Want a bet?” Even his voice was shaky.

“You can do it. I know you can.”

When I’ve counted to three. One. Two. Three.

Shit.

Another three.

Fuck.

Caleb took a deep breath, uncurled his fingers and took his hands off the wall. When he didn’t plummet, he let out a long sigh he knew March would have heard.

“See?” March called.

Not with his eyes closed.

“Lean back just a bit and walk down.”

Caleb kept his eyes squeezed shut as he gingerly let himself drop back. The shakes finally stopped and he was able to descend, one tiny step at a time.

“Almost there,” March said with every fricking step, so he was obviously lying. “Keep going. Now you can put your feet down. And open your eyes, you pillock.”

When Caleb’s backside hit the mat, he gasped and opened his eyes. March gave him a bit of slack with the rope, which allowed Caleb to collapse into the jellyfish he clearly was.

“You did it.”

Caleb lay back and looked up at the mountain towering above him.

“A new record as well,” March said. “I don’t think anyone has ever taken that long, nor spread their legs quite that wide.” March’s cheek twitched as if he’d just realized what he’d said.

March held out his hand and Caleb let him pull him up. He’d have liked the hand-hold to have lasted a bit longer. He knew March could feel him trembling as he helped him take off the harness.

“Show me how it’s done then.” Caleb dropped onto the floor a little way away, hoping it looked as though he’d meant to sit there whereas the truth was his legs seemed reluctant to support him.

March fastened himself on to a different section of the wall, attached the automatic belay and began to climb. Caleb admired his strong arms, the muscles rippling under his T-shirt before his gaze dropped to his butt and got stuck. In less than twenty seconds March was at the top.

“You didn’t tell me you were half mountain goat,” Caleb called.

March laughed.

Caleb’s heart rose into his throat and stayed there when March moved onto the roof section and hung by one hand! Oh fucking hell. He couldn’t watch. Caleb couldn’t
not
watch.

He wasn’t sure he took another breath until March was back at his side.

Caleb pushed to his feet and dragged March into his arms. “I never knew that watching someone I fancy doing something dangerous would make me so hot.”

March jerked away.

Caleb winced. “Sorry.”

He really was sorry. He hadn’t thought. March was only just getting his head around the idea of being gay and that was in private, not public. Even though Caleb had checked no one was watching, there were a lot more people climbing now. He needed to get rid of this awkward silence. “Have you ever fallen?”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t badly hurt? Well, since you have all your limbs and a working brain, clearly you weren’t.”

March didn’t speak.

Shit. Caleb pulled on his sweater, changed back into his shoes, handed the others in at the desk and March still hadn’t said anything.

He tried again. “Do you climb in a group?”

“No.”

“Have you climbed Everest?”

“No.”

“Damn, I can’t think of a question that doesn’t have a yes or no answer.”

March made a sound that might have been a laugh.

“I’m serious. Now that I’m trying, I can’t think of one. Oh I know—how or what. What happens if you flush sea monkeys down the toilet?”

March strode on ahead and Caleb wondered what the hell he was doing, trying to push someone who wasn’t ready into being ready.

When they were outside the sports building, Caleb tugged at his arm to pull him to a halt, and let him go before March could jerk away. “Sorry. Okay. Too much, too soon, I get it.”

March dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve spent so long trying not to… I just need time to get my head around it, okay?”

Caleb nodded but his stomach had sunk. How much time? That was what he should have asked him. Not about sea monkeys. Jesus.

“Want to go and get something to eat?” March didn’t look at him as he asked.

“Sure. Here?”

“No, not here. We’ll go into town.”

They headed across the grassy campus toward the car park and Caleb wondered when March was going to tell him this wasn’t going to work, that he couldn’t do this. Not that they’d done anything.

“Hold my hand?” March whispered.

Caleb was so shocked he stopped walking for a moment before he strode to catch up. He slipped his fingers through March’s and heard him sigh.

“This is nice,” Caleb said. “But you need to be careful. Not everyone’s tolerant of two guys walking hand in hand.” He felt March try to pull away and he tightened his hold. “Course they’ll hit you first because you’re bigger than me. I’d run away so I’d be fine.”

“You wouldn’t though, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t run away and leave you. I’d never do that.”

“Do they really go for the big guys first?”

Caleb nodded. “It means the other one is easy prey.”

March let out a quiet groan. “What…what do you do if guys…?”

“If you can, you run. Fast. If you can’t, you double up, protect your face and your head.”

“You said your ex hit you, but have you ever been attacked?”

“Yes.”

March gave him a horrified glance.

Caleb shrugged.

“What happened?”

“I lived to tell the tale except I don’t tell it. There’s always a risk if you’re gay and open about it. Being gay is not the easy choice.”

“No. But that isn’t my problem.”

The words—
what is then?
—hovered on Caleb’s tongue but he swallowed them. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I enjoyed climbing?”

“Did you?”

“Are you crazy? You saw my Elvis impression, right? If only I could sing.”

March smiled. “All climbers have the shakes at some point. I could bore you with the technical explanation but it’s as simple as having spent too long with your heels up and your weight on the balls of your feet.”

“And fear.”

“I’ve never seen anyone stretch as far as you. Impressive flexibility. Is that the yoga?”

“Yoga and ballet.”

“You did— Oh fuck.”

Caleb saw March staring at a group of students heading their way.

March didn’t break his stride, nor drop his hand, but Caleb felt something different in the way he was walking, some tension in the way he held himself.
He knows them.
Caleb took in the faces of those approaching and noticed one woman mutter something to another.

“Hi, Dr. Durant,” said one of the guys.

“Hi.” March didn’t stop but gripped Caleb’s fingers so hard it hurt.

March veered away from where they’d parked and headed for a glass-fronted building. He tugged Caleb inside, waved to a guy on the desk and pulled Caleb at top speed down the corridor. He let his hand go and disappeared into a restroom.

Caleb followed. When he heard March throwing up, he leaned back against the hand drier.

This was a bad idea. March was more fucked up than he was. But he was also a teacher. Maybe that was what had March so worried.

Caleb stayed where he was, maybe
because
March was so fucked up.

March emerged, rinsed his mouth at the sink and Caleb handed him a paper towel.

“You okay, Doctor?” Caleb asked.

March nodded and then shook his head.

Caleb’s heart sank. He knew what was coming.

“It’s not going to work,” March said.

Caleb was used to disappointment, but for some reason this one hit him harder than most. He wasn’t surprised March was bailing. If he’d managed fifteen or so years without coming out, he could probably sustain it for the rest of his life. Unlike Caleb, March didn’t look gay or act gay.

Walk away.
His feet weren’t listening.
Don’t open your mouth because you’ll say something stupid.

“So that kiss was a mistake?” Caleb asked. Was no part of his body obeying his brain? “The flirting a mistake? The hand-holding a mistake?”

March sucked in his cheeks. “I can’t do this.”

“Then don’t.” Caleb could feel anger surging in as disappointment ebbed.

“I thought once I’d at least kissed a guy, that would be it, but that’s not the case.”

Now Caleb was disappointed, angry
and
hurt.
Way to go, March.
The kiss had—
Oh what was the point?
“It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“That’s gay guys for you. All about the physical.” He shrugged.
Now walk away.
He didn’t move.

“Still fancy getting something to eat in town?”

Caleb’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

“We can still be friends, can’t we?”

“No.” Finally his mouth and feet did as they were told and he moved, but only into a stall and not out of the bathroom. He locked the door, flipped down the lid and sat.

He heard March sigh, then the
swoosh
of the door opening and closing. His chest felt as though he were being pressed between two walls.

Dumped in a bathroom. That was a new low. Caleb wanted to believe there was someone out there for him, but each disappointment chipped away at his hope and undermined his self-esteem.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what a massive deal it was for March. Of course he knew it was a big thing. The older you were, the harder it had to be. He’d never had to tell anyone he was gay. He’d always known. There was never a point where he’d had to stand and say he was different. People just knew. The wrong person knew. The right person hadn’t. March had spent a long time not being true to himself. It wasn’t fair to think he could instantly switch, that one kiss could make a difference. One fucking stupendous kiss.
That
I
thought was stupendous.

Caleb wiped away the tears that had trickled down his cheeks. It was a wonder he hadn’t washed away his lenses. He was angry March had made him cry. The last person who’d—
Oh fuck, not now.

He sat in the stall and waited for a long time. Waited until he knew March would be back at home eating his biscuits. Waited until he was sure there was no trace of tears on his face. Waited until he had his emotions under control.

He switched off his phone—not even a fucking apology?—took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom, then cursed himself for being disappointed March wasn’t waiting.

Instead of going back the B and B, he went looking for a student café. There was a small row of shops close to the parking lot, and between the bank and a bookstore was a café called the Beanstalk. Some guy was playing a guitar in one corner and the place was busy. Caleb ordered a coffee, baked potato and cheese, and then couldn’t find anywhere to sit. It was too cold to sit outside but he sat there anyway.