Resilience

RESILIENCE

by

Bailey Bradford

Todd Benson couldn’t begin to count the number of times he’d thought he was going to die. Probably, he guessed, every time his hell-and-brimstone preaching daddy had grabbed a belt, or a cane, or a switch. There’d been those two times with the crop, and another with the electrical cord. Those were just the times he remembered. Sometimes he wondered if he hadn’t blocked out even worse episodes of abuse.

But he’d survived the abuse, no thanks to most people in the small town of Shasta. As an adult, Todd knew now that everyone just about had to have been aware of what was

happening to him when he’d been a kid. And as a member of law enforcement, a certified, bona fide deputy, Todd knew they knew.

Forgiving the people of Shasta for turning a blind eye to the abuse he’d suffered was something he was still working on. The only people who’d really tried to help him had been Mr and Mrs Staley, his best friend’s grandparents. That hadn’t really gone so well, but it had helped Todd, knowing there were people who didn’t think he deserved to be treated so badly. When they’d died, Todd had cried like a baby. Gabe, their grandson and his closest friend, had been devastated as well.

And, somehow, Todd had developed more of a backbone then. His father and mother

had already condemned him to hell for being friends with Gabe since Gabe was one of those demon-possessed homosexuals. Well, Todd had news for his parents—he was too. He was

just too scared to do anything about it. He was too scared to even talk about it, because if his parents found out? All those times he’d thought he was gonna die, well, those would be nothing compared to what would happen.

Todd had heard his parents rant before, and he’d been subjected to some severe

beatings over being Gabe’s friend even once he’d passed the age of eighteen. It was, Todd knew even though it shamed him, very hard to break out of the cycle of abuse. He still hadn’t, he supposed, because it’d just been earlier in the day that his father had slapped him so hard Todd’s entire head throbbed. And here he’d been wearing his badge and…and he hadn’t done more than hang his head and leave.

At least he’d made his father stop hitting him otherwise, and he’d moved out. Those

were two accomplishments, and Todd was intelligent enough to know he needed to give

himself what positive reinforcement he could. His confidence was almost nonexistent and he had plenty of other problems, but he had to believe he’d get better. Maybe one day he’d move away from Shasta, because he’d need to get away from his parents if he ever wanted to be able to be himself.

But first he’d have to figure out who he was. That was just frightening, because Todd knew that, despite the badge on his shirt, he was a big old coward. If he wasn’t, he’d be out like Gabe, and he sure wouldn’t be letting anyone smack him around.

“Get off your lazy ass and go see what you can find out about the new vet that’s

moving in to the Duggart place.”

Todd looked up from the papers on his desk. How long had he been sitting there

staring blankly at them? Long enough for Sheriff Kaufman to catch him at it. Kaufman was only mildly better to Todd than his parents were.

“New vet?” Todd said, and, if he stuttered a little, oh well, Kaufman tended to scare him. The man was cruel on a whole different level than Todd’s parents were. At least even they didn’t get their rocks off abusing and shooting stray dogs like the sheriff did. Kaufman was a sociopath with a badge as far as Todd was concerned, and that was a combination that should terrify everyone, not just him.

Kaufman snorted and kicked Todd’s desk. “Yeah, now get your lazy ass up and go

check him out. I think he looks too pretty not to be one of those fags. We already got that Staley freak here, at least until I can run his fruity ass out of Shasta. Don’t need no more of ’em around.”

Todd bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that Gabe didn’t actually live in the town of Shasta, but on the outskirts. He pushed away from the desk and grabbed his jacket and hat. Better that he not say anything to draw more attention to Gabe.

Soon enough Sheriff Kaufman would catch on to what he was doing, and probably to the fact that Todd was helping him.

The first time Todd had witnessed Kaufman beating a stray dog to death, he’d been sick and terrified. He’d been frozen in shock and fear, having come around the side of old man Harrity’s barn when he heard a dog yelp, only to find Kaufman snickering as he swung a bat repeatedly. Kaufman had spotted him and ran his hand over the butt of his gun. Todd hadn’t said a word to him, but his conscience gnawed at him and he was haunted by what he’d seen and heard, and he turned to the one person he could confide in.

Gabe had wanted to confront the sheriff, but Todd had managed to make him see the

futility in doing so. They’d come up with a plan to thwart Kaufman and protect as many strays as they could.

Together, Todd and Gabe had set about rescuing the stray dogs around the area. It was as close as Todd had come to making a stand, but he couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d sat back while Kaufman tortured some of the most noble creatures on earth.

So Todd tried to make sure he got the calls about strays, and he and Gabe would sneak out and rescue them. Sometimes Kaufman got the info first, though, and those times were just awful. Todd had ended up puking for a good couple of hours after the last time.

Sheriff Kaufman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Todd couldn’t quite look

into the man’s squinty little eyes. “You tell me if he’s a faggot, or an asshole who’s gonna shit bricks over our stray policy. I’ll handle him from there.” He slapped Todd’s arm hard enough to bruise. “A few tickets and a little roughin’ up and I bet he’d run off cryin’.”

Todd waited until he was outside to shake his head. It was like an epic battle between good and evil or something, except the Bible had it wrong, because the devil couldn’t be as hateful and cruel as people were, could he? Sometimes—a lot of times—Todd thought Hell was right here on earth, and the little town of Shasta was at its epicentre.

He didn’t have time for philosophical bullshit, though. Right now he had to go warn

the good veterinarian about the evil sheriff. Yep, good and evil, Todd thought, and smiled for the first time that day. Now, if the vet turned out to be a total douche, that’d skew Todd’s budding philosophy on religion and God and all that. Todd didn’t even worry about being sacrilegious anymore. His father had beaten it into him that God knew what was in one’s heart, and, if that was the case, and what Todd felt and thought secretly in his heart was wrong, then he was toast anyways.

But, if his father was wrong and God wasn’t the hateful being his father thought he

was, then Todd figured he was going to be okay. His father and mother, on the other hand, were in for some hot weather in the afterlife.

Todd rolled his eyes at his thoughts. He spent too much time on stuff like that, but, considering the way it’d been drilled into him all his life, he reckoned it was understandable.

It wasn’t like he had friends other than Gabe to hang out with and distract him from his own stupid brain, either. Todd was, as weird as it might seem, considering his job, so shy it hurt to talk sometimes. Plus, who could he trust in Shasta? No one, besides Gabe.

“I really need out of here,” Todd mumbled, then nearly wrecked his cruiser when he

rounded the corner of Main and Brentwood. As it was, he hit his brakes a little too hard and the tyres screeched on the asphalt, and the man who was bent over digging through the back of his SUV stood up and turned around.

And Todd knew, then, there, in that second when his eyes met a pair of dark chocolate brown ones, that he was going to die. His father would kill him, because everything inside Todd was pinging with an awareness he’d tried so hard to suffocate, or at least hide until he was free. His father had always said Gabe was going to turn him gay, and, though Todd knew that wasn’t the case—he’d known what he’d felt for as long as he could remember, which was before Gabe ever came to town—there was no way his father would believe him.

Todd was afraid that some switch had been flicked in him now, and that his darkest secret was going to be glaringly exposed. It was stupid, paranoid, but the power his parents, especially his father, had over him was not to be dismissed.

Then the dark-haired man smiled, and it made Todd dizzy, dizzy! He managed to put the car in park, he thought, and his lips did something weird, twitched or trembled or prepared to spew odes to the man’s beauty. Todd groaned then, because he was so dead. He wouldn’t ever get out of Shasta, wouldn’t have any of those wild hedonistic nights he fantasised about when he dared to let himself.

He wasn’t ever going to get very far away from the man now approaching the cruiser,

not if he could help it. But—Todd shook his head slightly and the man stopped. Todd took a minute to study him. No designer clothes, no loose-hipped gait like Gabe had, no clues as to the man’s sexuality. Gabe and TV were about the only representations of gay men Todd had to go by, and this man didn’t fit any of those stereotypes. Not that Gabe was flaming or whatever, but he wasn’t exactly…not.

Todd told himself to get it together and unbuckled. He got out of the car and tipped his head at the man. And he tried to smile, or at least not look like he was as terrified as he felt.

The stranger’s smile struck again and melted everything inside Todd.

“Hi,” the man said, offering a hand as he approached. “I’m Adam Soames, the vet

taking over Dr McIntire’s practice.”

Todd’s hand was sweaty so he wiped it on his uniform pants before shaking Adam’s

hand. He looked down at their hands. Adam’s was bigger than his, hairier, stronger. Adam’s voice was deeper, too, and Todd couldn’t classify him as anything other than a handsome man he’d be drooling over if he wasn’t careful. Adam was probably straight.

“Is there a problem?” Adam asked, and Todd realised he hadn’t let go of the vet’s hand.

“No,” he said as he whipped his hand back. “I, ah, it’s… I j-j-j—” Oh God, the stuttering was kicking in!

Todd closed his eyes and took a deep breath, aware that his entire face had to be bright red. He opened his eyes and about died at the understanding look Adam gave him.

“Welcome to Shasta,” Todd blurted out, relieved that he didn’t stutter it and mortified that he sounded like a thirteen-year-old boy going through puberty.

Adam’s smile actually turned up a notch and Todd felt sucker-punched. “Thank you, Deputy Benson.”

Todd was confused for a second until Adam tapped his badge, then he was just back to being mortified. “Yeah, uh. Welcome.” Now what? Todd wondered. What happened when

you met the person you’d been waiting for, and they weren’t waiting around for you? There was no way Todd was good enough for a man like this even if Adam was gay. Todd gave

himself an internal shake. He needed to get his act together, and maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could keep his secret hidden for a while longer.

“It was kinda crooked.” Adam stepped back and tried his best to look, well, non—

threatening, which he had a feeling in this case meant straight. “I’ll just get back to unloading these boxes…” He needed to tone it down, Adam chastised himself silently. It was obvious he was freaking the cute deputy out. The man’s freckles had vanished under the ferocious blush that’d swept over his face. It made his green eyes extremely vibrant, and Adam had always had a thing for green eyes, damn it. And hadn’t that caused him no end of trouble? It was a huge part of why he was settling in Fuckitall, Texas.

Although…his brilliant plan to remove himself from temptation might have backfired.

But who’d have thought there’d be even one gay man in a town like this—well, besides himself, obviously—or that he’d be the culmination of Adam’s favourite fantasies?

Except the very sweet-looking Deputy Benson might drop dead of a stroke or

something if Adam didn’t watch it. And dampen the flame. I promised to tone it down to nothingness.

“Was there anything else, Deputy Benson?” Adam asked, because Benson seemed to

have rooted to the ground there. Adam’s heart did a slow lurch in his chest. Was that hunger there in those green eyes? Or was he projecting his own desires? But the way the deputy blushed and stuttered, and seemed loath to leave—

“No, n-nothing,” Benson mumbled, then quickly turned and headed back to his cruiser.

“Okay, not so loath to leave after all, dumbass.” Adam sighed and forced himself to

turn away when all he really wanted to do was stand there and watch the handsome cop drive away. Yeah, and there’d be a rainbow over my head decorated with cute little hearts and sparrows and all that sappy stuff. Jesus. He could be a bit melodramatic.

And it wasn’t like Deputy Benson had really been looking at him like that. Adam was just too used to the horny guys at the clubs and such, where everyone seemed to be eye-fucking each other. He really had to get his head on right.