Let It Go (25 page)

“I’m tired. I guess,” Creed replied finally while he dried Eli, running the towel over Eli’s short hair and then wrapping it around his waist.

“Are you hungry? We could scare up some sandwiches or something.” Eli stepped into Creed’s arms and laid his head on Creed’s shoulder.

“Don’t think I can eat right now.” Creed held him close, his face pressed into Eli’s neck. He trembled with what Eli hoped was chill.

“Me either. Can’t get the image of Owen dead, his eyes open, out of my head; not sure if food is going to be something I need for a while,” Eli agreed, squeezing his eyes shut to ward off another round of nausea. “Sleep, though, I could use a couple days of that.”

“Yeah.” Creed rocked side to side a little and Eli moved with him. This was what he wanted. Just the contact, nothing more than having a warm body hold him. “Eli?”

“Yeah?” Eli ran his hand down Creed’s spine loving the way he felt against him.

“If … you know … condoms. We have to use condoms now.”

A chill raced through Eli, making him shake. “Okay, we’ll deal with it, because … yeah … we’ll deal. Tomorrow we go to town, get tests, maybe talk to the doctor about the rape—”

“Don’t say it; just let it rest for now, okay? I don’t want to think about this morning. I didn’t want to. I didn’t. I didn’t fight him but I didn’t want to. He had a gun. He made me … I’m sorry, Eli. So sorry.”

He seemed so frail Eli was afraid he’d break him. He cradled him. What the hell could he say? “Nothing to be sorry for. Not one damn thing to be sorry for.” He stood, rocking Creed side to side as if he were a baby. There were no tears now. Creed shivered still. His hands shook. Eli wasn’t so steady himself. “The bastard is dead. The judge has it all handled. Your name never came up. No one will ever know.”

“You know. The judge, Randy, Sly… What the hell was Sly doing here anyway? They all know. Randy already thinks I’m trash. Now he knows how right he was.”

“All they saw was you with a gun to your head. All they heard was him raging about killing me. Randy killed him. He did it for both of us. Not just for me.” Eli wondered if he told himself that enough if he’d start believing it. “Come on, baby, let’s get out of here. I’m freezing and tired. Just want to lie down and hold you. Is that okay. Can we … can I hold you for a while?”

Creed stood up straight then, his eyes bright with unshed tears. Eli traced the bruise pattern on Creed’s face; he could see a cut below his eye. “Bastard could have taken the ring off. He liked using that on me. Thought it was funny. I lied about falling off my horse so many times.”

Creed closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Did he ever—Eli, he—did he ever hurt you? I mean…” He looked embarrassed, almost green as he stumbled over whatever he was trying to ask. Finally he dragged in a long, ragged breath and looked deep into Eli’s eyes. “He called your name, Eli. Every time. Except today. Made me call him Uncle and called your name when he came.”

Eli let go of Creed and stumbled out of the shower. He made it to the toilet but didn’t have anything left in his stomach to throw up. When he could catch his breath again, he found Creed standing near the door, his arms wrapped around his chest and shoulders looking as if he was on the verge of running again. “No,” Eli finally said. “No. He never … never molested me. He didn’t touch me that way. Never led me to even think he would.”

Creed seemed to relax as he watched. “Okay, that’s good. I always wondered. I always thought maybe that’s why you hated me so much. I don’t know. It’s stupid. He messed with my head so much I never knew what was real. Told me that you hated me. That you hoped I’d get AIDS and rot in hell with the rest of the fags. He didn’t like how I looked at you. I guess he knew I was crushing those first months. I thought maybe—”

“That he was jealous because he was … oh God no.” Eli couldn’t stand the look in Creed’s eyes. The lifeless, shuttered look he’d worn for years was even preferable to what he saw in the man now.

“I’m sorry, Eli, I didn’t mean to imply…” His shoulders slumped; his eyes were blank. If Eli hadn’t seen him smile this past week, he wouldn’t know there was a difference. “I’m going to go find something to put on. And lie down. I think. I’m just so tired right now.”

“Creed?” Eli was on his feet following him out into the bedroom.

“Yeah?” Creed dragged a hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands back from his face. He found a pair of shorts in a drawer and pulled them on while he waited for Eli to continue.

Eli had no idea what he wanted to say. What was there to say? “I’m sort of dizzy so I’m going to catch a nap, okay?” he lied. Maybe it wasn’t a lie. The room did slant a little as he walked over to the bed. “Do you want me to go to my room? I don’t want to—”

“Just get in the bed, Eli, damn,” Creed whispered, coming up behind him. “Don’t know if I can even sleep without you anymore anyway.” He climbed in on the side he’d claimed and rearranged his pillow. Eli kneeled beside him, unsure how to be or what to do. Finally he dropped his wet towel onto the floor and crawled under the covers.

“It’s still daylight. Can’t believe I’m taking a nap. I haven’t had a nap since I was in kindergarten.” Eli waited for Creed to settle under the covers with him before he rolled into his arms and nestled his face in Creed’s neck. “I love you, Creed. If you were wondering. Nothing is going to change that.”

Creed sighed. “I know, Eli.” His voice was strained as if more tears were clogging his throat. “Let’s just rest for now. I’ll cook something to eat in a couple of hours. Everything will be fine. Tomorrow we should go over to Sawyer’s and work with the horse before he forgets what he’s learned.”

“Yeah, probably.” Eli found Creed’s scarred hand and clasped his fingers. The dizziness he’d fought since this morning wanted to return. Except this time it felt more like his life spinning out of control than anything having to do with a bump on the head. “That sounds like a good plan.” Creed grunted in reply, his breathing becoming even and deep. Eli listened to his heart beat, letting it lull him into a fitful sleep. Tomorrow everything would be fine and the past couple of days would have never happened. Tomorrow would be a great day.

Chapter 18

He woke up alone and disoriented. The clock on the nightstand said just past ten. It was dark. At night? There was an aroma in the chilled air. Savory. Creed lay still for a moment letting the previous couple of days wash over him. A vague recollection of a body lying on the asphalt driveway wiggled inside his mind. He closed his eyes and forced the memory away. He’d tried not to look as he ran. He didn’t want that in his brain. Didn’t want the horror that turned quickly to betrayal in Eli’s eyes either, but there it was. Two burning beams of “holy fuck” forever emblazoned.

Creed threw off the sheet and stumbled over discarded clothes and still damp towels to the partially open door. He followed the smell of food to the kitchen. The house was mostly dark, and incredibly cold; his footsteps seemed to echo in the cavern-like main room. Good thing he couldn’t see that creepy-ass portrait. He didn’t want Eli’s father condemning him with his frozen painted eyes for what became of his brother.

Eli sat with his elbows on the table, shoulders slumped, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. A pot simmered on the stove. The little black-and-white under the counter television set was turned on, the volume low; Leno would be up after the late local news. Fuck, he was watching the news.

The freckles on Eli’s back moved as he did. Creed was a sucker for those damned freckles. He walked quietly into the dimly lit room and ran his hand over the broad shoulders. Creed shivered. Telling himself because it was from the chill in the air and nothing carnal. But damn it, Eli was nothing but carnal. “Head hurting?”

Eli leaned back against his hand and grunted. Creed took advantage of his relaxed state allowing his fingers to linger on the smooth skin.

“That feels good,” Eli whispered, rolling his neck as Creed increased the pressure. “Not a headache so much. Stress, maybe. Don’t know. God, that feels good.” Creed rubbed his shoulders now as Eli’s head lolled back against his chest. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He pushed Eli forward and worked his hands down his back over the scars and back up to his shoulders while Eli moaned. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, the ribs seem fine.” Eli caught his hand and pulled him to his side. He looked up and gave a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I couldn’t stop seeing … you know … blood. I’ve wanted the man dead since I was thirteen and now he is.” Eli shook his head as if shooing away a gnat.

“Was it on the news?” Creed was grateful the next segment was weather. Tomorrow would be rainy and cooler, dropping into the seventies during the day. “Looks like it’s going to be fall around here after all.”

“Maybe, and yeah, there was a mention, Tom being interviewed. Seems as if it’s going to be an open-and-shut case. Randy saw him shoot at me and shot him before he could kill me. The judge witnessed it. I don’t have a gun. He put me in the hospital yesterday. But local reaction is going to be the real test. Owen was an enigma to them but he was the sainted Benjamin Mason Sr.’s younger son. My dad’s death had hit the community hard. Dammit, Creed, I don’t know these people. I can’t remember them. And they didn’t know what kind of monster he was.” Eli slumped over, his shoulders shaking. Creed moved around him; he straddled his legs, pulled Eli to him, and held him while he shook.

“I know. I’m sorry,” was all he knew to say. He smoothed Eli’s hair and held him.

“I can’t go back to bulls. The doctor told me. I’ve had too many concussions. There’s bruising on my brain or something. You weren’t there when I found out. If you were there…”

“He would have still come after one of us again, Eli, he was hiding out here somewhere. Waiting. Being there with you wouldn’t have stopped what happened. It would have prolonged it. Maybe even made it worse.”

“How can you be so damn calm? He held a gun on you. He’s tortured you. He raped you, Creed. That today, it was rape. Are you so damned used to—”

Creed pushed away from him before he could finish the condemning words. He stood in front of the window looking out into the black void.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Eli came up behind him and rested his forehead on Creed’s shoulder. “I’m just so angry, and relieved, and guilty because I’m relieved and then angry because it had to happen.”

Creed could see his image in the window. Eli’s broad shoulders almost smothered him. He was so much larger, more powerful than Creed yet so much more vulnerable. “I used to watch these brothers, you know, that summer after my mom died. They came from a circus family into rodeo. They did tricks on the horses to keep me entertained while my asshole dad was out getting high somewhere. Rope tricks, the whip. One loved to throw knives. And I wanted to learn. They taught me to do backflips on the ground and I was already a decent rider. I took to it pretty easily. I wasn’t afraid of a damned thing. Horses especially. Something about horses. I know what they’re thinking, they understand me.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that. Kinda freaky, if you want the truth. The way you go out into the pasture and they’re like a bunch of dogs running up to greet you. Sounds like a good summer, Creed.” Eli looked over his shoulder into the dark window. Creed could see his eyes. He needed to see his eyes to get through this.

“It came with a price, Eli. They fed me and made sure I had a place to sleep when my dad went missing for days. And they taught me how to suck a dick. I watched them fuck. Brothers. They taught me how to use my body to pay for the things I need and want in life in return for learning everything I could that summer. It’s how I learned to trick ride. How to use the whip. They taught me to rope, and to do tricks with the rope. They taught me how to deep throat and how to prolong orgasm. They taught me more than any twelve-year-old should ever know.”

Eli closed his eyes. “You didn’t know any better. It was only natural curiosity, right? They—”

“They didn’t make me have sex with them. That was someone else. My dad walked in one day and found me with one of them. I didn’t see them again. But I learned enough to run with the lesson. Learned that the straight truckers wanted sweet, feminine boys. They weren’t cheating on their wives or, Lord forbid, taking their unnatural desires home to their daughters. It didn’t make them gay or a perv if it was a whore. So I learned to play on that. The women. Women were interesting. Most of them just wanted company. Sex usually was secondary. I think a couple of them tried to save me. Except I didn’t know I needed saving. I was probably fourteen at the time and could pick and choose. As long as it wasn’t a cop or one of the riders who knew me. Truckers, businessmen. I was twelve, thirteen, fourteen, whatever, and I was a pro at sex. Most guys were still trying to figure out those strange feelings. I never had that. Never woke up one day knowing I liked guys. Never worried about getting in some girl’s panties. I just picked someone, played with my hair, and offered what they didn’t know they wanted. And then I hoped they wouldn’t go crazy before they were done with me.”

“When did you know you were gay?” Eli sounded strange, his voice strangled. Creed turned in his arms; he didn’t know how to answer that. “Please tell me that you aren’t telling me you aren’t gay?”

Creed sighed; this wasn’t where he wanted to take this right now. “I’m not saying that, Eli. I guess I’m saying that by the time I would have hit the age to wonder why I would rather suck a dick over a pussy I was immune to sex. Sex became something I didn’t care for. I didn’t feel anything for anyone. I never looked at a guy and thought about what it would be like to kiss him or just hold his hand and lie with in bed talking all night long. I didn’t look at girls either. I fucked them if they paid me but it was just sex. Pussy tastes different than cock. And I didn’t care about either. I cared about the numbers on the bills they put in my hand. I cared about eating real food a few times a week, or getting a pair of shoes that didn’t curl my toes over every six months. That one summer I grew four inches, I cared about having pants that didn’t show my ankles. I cared about horses and riding and staying alive.”