Shawn's Law (21 page)

Harley cocked his head in thought. “You think? Do you think that another place is not what he needs?”

I sighed again. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud. Now I really need to get clean and fall into bed. Alone. Is there anything else you need from me? Because I’m about to collapse.”

There was a little pause before Harley nodded. “Okay. But I’ll be over tomorrow, okay?” Then he stepped forward and kissed me. I startled for a second, but then realized that this could be the last time that Harley ever touched me, ever kissed me, ever loved me. I needed to store up these moments, because I knew that if I thought of something really good overnight, then he would be hating me by morning. We kissed thoroughly, but without arousing each other. Just an all-encompassing man-I-love-you pash, filled with caring and, on my side, farewell. Then he left.

B
Y
THE
morning I hadn’t thought of any good excuse to make Harley hate me, but Mum decided she was leaving home. She told me she’d had enough of me telling her what to do, and she was running away to marry Jimmy Shay.

I had no idea who Jimmy Shay was—and I can tell you that you learn a lot about your parent when they have Alzheimer’s, like who they dated before they married your father—but I was firm in not allowing her out of the house. She packed her suitcase three times, and each time I managed to distract her by telling her breakfast was ready and unpacked the brown case again.

We were just going through the same argument of “You’re not my father. You can’t tell me what to do” for the fourth time, when Harley arrived. I opened the door to him and told him it wasn’t a good day. He ignored me and entered the house anyway.

“Hi, Estelle. You look really pretty today.” Harley always had a smile and a compliment for my mother, and I loved him for it.

“Are you Jimmy’s friend?” she asked him suspiciously.

“No. I’m Shawn’s friend.”

“Then I don’t want to talk to you either,” she declared before slamming her bedroom door for the twentieth time that morning.

I felt like slamming a door too, but one of us had to be the adult. I threw myself on the lounge and tried to remember how to swear in French.

“Tough day?” Harley remarked.

“You think?” I bitched. “What gave it away?”

“The fact that you allowed me into the house today without
demanding a blow job first. To tell you the truth, I’m a little
disappointed, Shawn.”

When I didn’t laugh, he came over and kissed me on the forehead. “Go outside and check your seedlings. I’ll make some coffee so you’re ready for round two when Estelle comes out of her bedroom.”

“Round four, you mean,” I grumped. Harley did know me well. I really did need a coffee. And a walk around the garden to check on my plants, pull a couple of weeds, and pick some fruit would calm me down.

I was in the garden, watering the new turnips and beetroots that were showing their heads, when the phone rang inside. It rang once before stopping, so I assumed Harley had answered. A Sunday morning telephone call would usually be from Lisa.

I wandered back inside, ready for my coffee, and found Harley staring at me with accusing eyes. “Your boyfriend just called,” he said in a shocked tone. “He said he’d call you back in about an hour. It seems you made the news today with your blue-ringed octopus stunt. It also seems that prisoners get the daily paper. I didn’t realize.”

I froze in surprise, the pieces falling into place. Boyfriend. Prisoners. Phone call.

My mind raced as I asked, “He called?”

A strange light entered Harley’s expression. “So you’re not denying he
is
your boyfriend, then? What does that make me?”

It was my chance—my chance to make Harley hate me and therefore kill two birds with one stone. By breaking up our relationship, I would be saving his life from the repercussions of Shawn’s Law. And I was also saving us both the heartache of having the actual breakup be a long, extended thing.

Praying that I could pull it off, I tried for a nonchalant tone. “What’s wrong with that? Rory won’t be out of jail for another twenty years. Did you really expect me to be celibate for that long?”

Harley

That fucking phone call.

I
THINK
I’ll remember that phone call for the rest of my life. Shawn doesn’t know it, but I still have nightmares about that call and that man. I have replayed the call so many times in my head and in my dreams, I know it word for word.

“Hello?”

I had answered the phone’s summons immediately, not wanting Shawn to have to race inside while he was out with his plants, calming down. My plan was to distract Estelle for an hour and let Shawn do some painting. He’d been so uptight the day before, and I wanted to get him to unwind.

A recorded voice came over the line. “
You are about to receive a call from a prisoner at Acacia Prison. If you do not wish to receive this call, hang up now.
” There was a little pause while I tried to decipher the meaning of the words. Prisoner? Acacia Prison? “
Go ahead, please.
”

I was unsure what to do. It was obviously a wrong number.

“Hello? Shawn?”

The voice from the phone was rich and mellow. Just from those three syllables, I could tell the man on the other end of the phone was intelligent and well educated. I was still in shock and wondering what to say, when he spoke again.

“Hello? Are you there? Is this Estelle? Can I please speak with Shawn?”

“Who are you?” I finally managed to ask. He obviously knew Shawn and Estelle. Perhaps he was a relative? A cousin in prison that Shawn forgot to tell me about?

“This is Rory, Shawn’s boyfriend,” he replied. “Who are you?”

I opened my mouth to say “Shawn’s boyfriend” when I realized that he had stolen my line. I stopped in surprise as a few chunks of useless information my brain had stored came floating by.

It’s just the last guy I dated was arrested in front of me.

Remember I told you my last date was with my cannibal, serial-killer boyfriend?

You were Rory Davidson’s next intended victim?

I prefer the term clueless boyfriend.

The man who wanted to murder Shawn was still ringing him. My anger rose. “What are you doing ringing Shawn?” I demanded to know. “How dare you even think it? I’m reporting you immediately. There has to be some sort of law that prevents you from contacting your victims.”

The laughter that flowed from the other man was mesmerizing and melodious. I was no longer surprised at Shawn’s “clueless boyfriend” comment. This man sounded smart and safe and self-confident. He sounded beautiful.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed in my ear. “Shawn is not one of my victims. They’re all resting below the ground. In pieces.”

My jaw dropped at how casually the man admitted to his crime. “You intended to murder Shawn next,” I cried. “How callous of you to think that he would welcome the reminder.”

Again, laughter came from Rory. “I hadn’t decided about Shawn when I was arrested. I actually quite liked him, and even though my body was screaming for me to take him and love him the way that only people like me know how, I was hesitating. He’s a lovely person. And he’s oblivious. I ring him each week. The authorities know and have checked with Shawn, but he’s so in love with me that he takes my calls. He loves me and he’s only waiting for the time when I can leave this prison. I’m sure he has seen my love for him, and once I’m out, we’ll be together.”

I was astounded at the man’s audacity. He loved Shawn? Shawn loved him?

“You’re dreaming, mate,” I told him.

He paused a moment. “Ah. You must be Harley. He’s told me all about you. Although Shawn takes my phone calls, he knows that the scent and sight of his lovely body will send me mad in this place, so he never visits me. It’s hard to be apart, but necessary. I’ve told Shawn that, should certain needs arise in me, there are men in this place who can satisfy my pleasure. I’ve told him that, and then I told him he can enjoy his physical pleasure while he’s awaiting my release. He’s resisted for so long, but I’m glad he’s finally decided I’m right. I don’t mind you enjoying him for a while. But just as long as you know, he’s mine—first and last.”

I was aghast. “You’re sick.”

Rory chuckled. “So they keep telling me. I don’t agree. I think you all are just oppressing your primitive sides.”

“Go away,” I snarled. “And never ring Shawn again.”

“Whatever,” he replied in a flippant manner. “Can you please pass on a message to Shawn for me? Just tell him I liked the picture of him in this morning’s paper. Ask him if he was looking for Michael when he found the octopus? He was hot. I’ll try to call him again in an hour.
Ciao
.”

My mind was filled with shock. Shawn and
Rory
? Did Shawn really believe that man’s lies? Then I thought of how caring and sincere Shawn was. He was like an innocent babe, willing to believe anything. He was a blank paper, ready for the writer’s pen. He was the lump of clay ready for the artist’s molding. He was so damn lovable, even serial killers would spare him.

My emotions were burbling in every direction—some convinced that Rory was lying through his criminal teeth, some positively sure that Shawn was taking me for a ride. I had to be sure. I didn’t want to doubt the man I loved, but surely no one could be as adorable as Shawn without some sort of flaw. Maybe Shawn
was
in love with Rory. He had plenty of time to get over that love for an insane lunatic and fall in love with me.

I poured two coffees as doubt began to set in. But why hadn’t Shawn told me about Rory before now? Sure he had mentioned his ex-boyfriend, but only in passing. If I were really important to Shawn, wouldn’t he tell me about Rory’s phone calls? If he loved me, wouldn’t he mention that a cannibalistic madman fantasized about them being together when he got out of prison?

I tried to remember if Shawn had actually said that he was in love with me. I couldn’t. But I could remember Shawn trying to break up with me. I could remember the man I loved refusing to meet my father. I could remember the man I was dating insisting on non-reciprocated blow jobs for the last four weeks.

The door banged as Shawn came back inside. My inner doubts and jealousy bubbled to the surface and exploded.

“Your boyfriend just called. He said he’d call you back in about an hour. It seems you made the news today with your blue-ringed octopus stunt. It also seems that prisoners get the daily paper. I didn’t realize.”

Shawn didn’t hesitate in surprise. He knew
exactly
who I was talking about and immediately said, “He called?”

“So you’re not denying he
is
your boyfriend, then? What does that make me?”

Shawn shrugged and my heart shattered. “What’s wrong with that? Rory won’t be out of jail for another twenty years. Did you really expect me to be celibate for that long?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it since you never mentioned it to me.”

“It’s no problem for me, Harley. You’re my boyfriend for now. It’s not like we were planning on getting married and moving in together or anything. We can have fun for now, can’t we? We’re not in love, are we?”

It took a while to absorb the impact of those words. I swallowed loudly and carefully placed the teaspoon I was holding onto the sink. I nodded and wondered what I should do now. I wanted to scream and kick and break mirrors and slam doors, but Estelle had the monopoly on that, so I did the next best thing.

I squared my shoulders and looked Shawn dead in the eye. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He smiled, showing his white teeth. “Did Rory say anything else?” I couldn’t believe how happy and eager he seemed about a confessed killer.

“No. Just that you were hot in the picture in the paper.” There was a buzzing noise in both of my ears that wouldn’t go away. I knew the signs. There was a migraine coming.

“Hot? He said I was hot?” Shawn asked excitedly.

I hugged my broken heart to my chest and blinked in his direction. “Shawn? I need to get home. I have a migraine coming. Look, I’m sorry for saying this, but I don’t want to be with you if you’re just waiting around for your real love to get out of jail. I don’t want to be used that way.”

“Okay.” I should’ve known there was something up by the way the guy just accepted my words. What sort of person replied “okay” when their boyfriend broke up with them? In my defense, the pain was moving up my neck and spreading its agonizing fingers over my skull.

“I need to get home now,” I said, the nausea threatening to overwhelm me.

“Okay.”

“I don’t think you should ring me again.” My stomach clenched as I made this request.

“Okay.”

“Will you be all right?” Despite the heartbreak, I still cared about him.

“No. I’ll be half left.”

I tried to smile at his lame joke, but it was too painful. It was too painful to remember the first time I’d heard him tell me that. The black dots were bouncing in front of my vision as I made my way to the front door.