Not His Kiss to Take (4 page)

Broken.

The running water cut off abruptly. Unfamiliar hands took off his shoe. “No!” he gasped.
Don’t touch me! Don’t touch my clothes!
Bad things happened when…clothes came off. “Stop!” The hands paused. Now that the sparkly lightshow had faded, he could figure out where he was. And who the angel-voiced man was.
If he’d only quit touching me…

Trembling, he pried open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was a head of glossy dark hair laced with a strand or two of silver. Then a nice face, but one stern in concentration. Warm, dark eyes. A stubble-darkened jaw. Blood-spattered blue T-shirt.
My blood?
Jamie’s lip screamed when he licked it. “Who…” he mumbled, “are you?”

“
Dr. Evan Harrison.”

Don’t look like a doctor. But he sounds like one.
Such pretty eyes. Kind eyes.

The doctor gave him a sorrowful smile. “What’s your name?”

Don’t tell him!
But his mouth instantly blurted out: “J-James—
Jamie
.”

“
Jamie.” The doctor rolled it off his tongue, tested it out. “Do you know what day it is today, Jamie?”

Saturday. Yes, it’s Saturday, I know it is ’cause I’m gonna meet Melissa after the dinner rush is over.
“Saturday?”

“
Good,” the doctor said. “And do you remember what happened to you, Jamie?”

For a second, there was nothing, just this big blank spot. Then a prickle of memory tugged at the periphery of his mind. An unfamiliar bar—Melissa’s pick. And she’d chosen the one place he’d not yet crawled drunkenly out of, even before he turned legal and tried out his fake ID just about everywhere. The prickle turned into a rush of jumbled images crashing together inside his mind.

Melissa didn’t show… Bitch stood me up. I knew she was just a tease—she’d never go to a place like that on purpose. Not clubby enough for the pretty shoes. Too bad, I kinda liked her. But it was really snowing out, wasn’t it? Maybe she couldn’t make it? And that’s why I’m wet.
Jamie considered it.
But I stink…I’m not just wet, I think I smell like…piss. Can’t tell—nose is broken. Oh fuck.
Jamie processed the jumbled images one at a time.
A restroom? Yes. A dirty restroom. Hands on me? Hurting me! Men from the bar hurt me and then…pissed on me.

“
Fucking faggot…”

The huge room grew suddenly colder. The white sparkles danced behind his eyes again.

“
Calm down,” the doctor—Harris—
Harrison
—said. “You’re safe here with me. No one can hurt you in here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Safe here? Are we alone…here?
Jamie levered himself up on an elbow, and his chest protested with a sharp jab under the ribs.
Alone. Someplace else—not the same washroom; this one’s all fancy marble. And clean.
“Where am I?”

“
You’re at my house. Do you remember? You asked me not to take you to the hospital, and this was the only place I could think to bring you.”

Got no insurance since Mom lost her job. And I don’t live at home no more, anyway, not since Derek made Mom move into the trailer, the useless freeloading sack of shit.
“I’m…I’m saving for college.”

“
But you should go get checked over, regardless of cost.”

I almost have enough saved up—I ain’t blowing it on the stupid hospital. No more midnight shifts at 7-11, and soon, no more cleaning tables on Fridays at the Red Lobster either. If I’m careful, I can quit the burger place in time for the fall semester. I hate it there, but they give me the most hours.
“No hospital.”
They just beat the crap out of me. I’ll be okay.
But the fire below—it burned really hot. His balls ached, his cock throbbed miserably, horrendously, and farther down, his ass burned…felt ripped inside…

The sparkles flickered again.

“
Jamie! Stay with me.”

The white fizzled out, and the doctor’s sad eyes peered down into his. “They kicked the shit outta me,” he muttered.

“
Yes. I know they did.”

“
They…they called me a faggot and a cocksucker, and they kicked me. Punched me. Touched me…oh God, they grabbed me! Why’d they do that—hurt me?”

The doctor leaned back on his heels and nodded. “They attacked you and hurt you because they’re assholes. But don’t worry about that right now, okay, angel? Right now I need to examine you. If you won’t let me do that, then I’m going to take you to the hospital myself, because I can’t leave you like this.”

No fucking hospital! And no one is touching me ever again.
“I’m g-going h-home.” Jamie’s ribs screamed in protest as he moved.
You can do this—just ignore the stabbing and burning for a second…just a second. The pain will stop once you stand up again.
Feeling unsteady and weak, he carefully rolled onto his hands and knees. The fire exploded, and a fireball shot straight up his spine. His head fell forward, barely missing the edge of a massive claw-foot bathtub.
Get up! You gotta get away from here. You can do this…

But he couldn’t.

“
Jamie.” The doctor’s angelic tone disappeared on a wing and a prayer. The nasty, psych-ward-orderly voice that replaced it made his cold skin crawl. “Take your pick. I examine you right now and treat your injuries, or I take you to the hospital and they deal with you.”

What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll take option three—my option.
“Fuck you,” he groaned.

Nasty orderly’s eyes turned frosty. “Hospital it is.”

Jamie recognized that look. The “
don’t fuck with me, or else”
look. Like the principal always used. Or Aunt Angelina. She’d been in the army. They’d made her mean. “No fucking hospital.”

“
Then do what I tell you.”

Arguing hurt too much and demanded energy he didn’t seem to have. The spreading fire crept up his body and into his throat and burned a hole there, charring his voice box. He couldn’t fight anymore. Too cold.
And I’m so sleepy. I jus’ wanna sleep
. Strange how heavy his head felt when he nodded in acquiescence.

The orderly—he wasn’t really a doctor, the liar—tugged off his other shoe. Then his chilly wet socks. A strong arm gently slipped under his back and pulled him upright when he hadn’t even realized he’d lain down again. The hoodie fell away easily enough, but the shirt wouldn’t come off. Jamie simply couldn’t lift his arms high enough or endure the pain trying to get them there. A few seconds later and his favorite T-shirt gave way to the quick snip, snip of scissors. Shivers tore through him, and his teeth began to clack uncontrollably.

You’re okay; it’ll be okay.
Those familiar words of self-comfort became a silent chant, a habit he’d thought he’d left behind in Bremerton. And he actually believed himself until deft fingers snatched at the zipper tab on his jeans.
No! Don’t hurt me anymore!
The fire burned so fucking hot down there, molten, red, like a burner turned on high.
They kicked me there…and that one guy grabbed me so hard—

“
Like that, faggot? Bet you like it up the ass, don’t ya? Wanna feel something big up your ass? Yeah—fucking faggots, they all like getting reamed.”

Oh God, the pain—the pain.
“Don’t touch…
pants
. Don’t hurt me no more,” he moaned.

“
I’ll fix it so you won’t hurt anymore, Jamie. Promise. But the pants have to come off. They’re filthy and wet, and I can’t see what’s wrong with you with them in the way.”

“
Please…” he heard himself beg.

“
Did someone assault you, Jamie? Sexually?”

His breath hitched as a memory flared. A warm, wet trickle escaped the corner of his eye. He felt it but couldn’t seem to stop it, or the ones that followed.
I’m not crying. I’m not.

“
Jamie?”

Is it still rape if…if…it’s not done with a-a… dick?
“I d-don’t know.” Tears rolled down over his swollen lip. The saltiness stung like acid.

“
Did they penetrate you with something?”

Oh God!
That tearing pain…burning and ripping him apart!
And the nasty whispers in his ear and sour alcohol fumes gagging him.
“Like that, faggot? Betcha like it.”

“
Yeah.” The word ripped his raw throat on its way out. “But not…not with, you know, their…dicks.”

“
Oh, Jamie.”

Right then, Jamie didn’t care if the man was a doctor or not. His shoulder was wide and safe and freely offered.

“
Come here,” the man invited.

Jamie went—fell. Clotted blood, tears, and snot soaked the man’s ruined shirt. The doctor didn’t seem to care. Misery poured out in a flood, and it felt good, so very good, to let it go. When the shudders ended and the sobs gentled, Jamie pulled away.
Cry baby. No wonder they thought you were a fag. You’re such a fucking baby. That one guy called you a pretty twink, didn’t he? But I don’t even know what that really means…exactly.
The owner of the soft shirt yanked it over his head, twisted it inside out, and used it to gently wipe his face.

Humiliated and burning in misery, Jamie didn’t even protest as the doctor laid him back down on the floor, finished unzipping him, and slowly peeled off his jeans, then his boxers. Jamie didn’t remember pulling them up before coming here—someone must have helped him. The brush of material over his burning, throbbing cock brought back the sparklies, all white and flickering behind his eyes. His stomach roiled and threw acid up his throat. The thick crease of fabric between his legs bit into his aching balls. Then, finally, the pant legs slid over his freezing feet.

“
Shit,” the doctor muttered. “They sure did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“
Kicked me,” he muttered back. “Fuckers.”

“
I’m gonna touch you now, Jamie. Examine you. Don’t be afraid, okay? I’ll try not to hurt you.”

Though he knew that was coming, and was powerless to stop it anyway, Jamie still tried shielding himself with a cold, shaky hand. “Please don’t…” he whispered—whimpered. Their eyes met. Jamie begged with his.
I’m so ashamed. Don’t look at me! I wish they would’ve killed me instead.

“
I’ll be very gentle.”

The tears continued to leak from the corners of his closed lids. Beyond his snuffling, he heard the snap of rubber gloves and cringed, waiting for that first, horrible touch, the pain. Cold air licked at his balls, taming the fire.

“
Ready?” The soothing angel voice had returned.

“
Oh God…”

Fingers brushed up his thigh. At least he knew where they were. The first touch to the burning flesh above his thigh stung. Cold hands! Another stranger—strange
man
—was touching his private parts. Bitter tears fell, replacing the hurting kind. The examination didn’t take all that long, but the pain was excruciating.
Cry some more, baby, why don’tcha?
Only, baby or not, he couldn’t seem to stop.