Stripped Bare (31 page)

“No. You don’t need to call me. It’s over, Shane. I can’t trust you. There’s no point in talking anymore. You made me bloody lie for you, and you dredged up memories I wanted to forget.”

Shane nodded. “I see. You’re running again. We come across a hurdle in our relationship and you run. It’s always your way or the highway, isn’t it? No middle ground, no negotiation. I know I was wrong to do what I did, Matthew. And I’m so sorry it caused you such grief. I never intended that to happen. But I love you. I just wanted to be able to share your life no matter how bad it was, or what you’d done. But I guess that was just a pipe dream. You’ll always be rooted in the bloody past.”

Matthew said nothing, just stared at him, his hands clenched at his sides.

Shane’s heart was breaking but he was determined to have his say. “Despite what we said to each other yesterday about loving each other, Matty, you know what? I don’t think you ever
stopped
running. Have a good life.”

He walked out of the bedroom, his eyes stinging with tears. His throat closed up and his chest felt constricted and he ached like he never had before.

Shane reached his apartment forty minutes later. He was breathing heavily with the exertion of running all the way home and having Bushwhacker plastered to his back. There had been a taxi in the vicinity but he’d needed to get rid of the restless energy that flooded his body, quell the sense of loss he felt, and running made him forget. He let himself into his home, plonked his laptop down on the dining room table and went to stand at the picture window, staring blindly out into the night. His body was sweating, his face shining with moisture. His hair was plastered to his temples.

Christ what a fuck-up of a night
. It had started out so well and ended up with Matthew ripping his heart out of his chest. Deservedly so. He had never imagined he could cause such pain to his lover. Then again, he could never have imagined such a heartrending story as the one Matty had just told him.

“I know I interfered, Matty,” he said to himself as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. “I wish I hadn’t, I wish I could undo it. God, what the hell have I done to us?” He heaved a shuddering breath. Hot water and bed were probably the best thing for him right now. He’d need to give Matthew some space, let him get over what he thought was a betrayal.

But first…

Shane sat down at the table and pulled Bushwhacker toward him. Five minutes later he watched as his folder on Matthew Langer winked and disappeared. He’d meant to get rid of that file ages ago but kept forgetting. Shane kept one picture, a picture he thought might in the future bring Matty peace. Now wasn’t the time, but perhaps if they got together again. Shane swallowed.
When
they got together again, it might make more sense. He couldn’t think of this as being an ‘if’ situation. That would be far too painful. He’d wait a while, see if Matthew relented or contacted him. If not, he’d have to force the issue the way Matthew had done the first time they’d argued. But for now, he’d have to be patient and let the tormented soul of his lover find its centre and calm down long enough for Shane to apologise and try and make his peace.

Aftermath and tragedy

Matthew sat in his office, busily working through a pile of documents when Julia walked in. He looked up and smiled.

“Hi there. What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you.” She closed the door and sat down in the visitor chair. Matthew looked at her with apprehension. “This looks serious. Is something wrong?”

“I’d bloody say, Matthew. Have you seen yourself lately?”

Matthew scowled. Now he knew where this was going. “If you’re going to get on at me again, don’t. I’m fine, Julia.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t bloody lie to me.” Julia’s voice was fierce. “You look like shit, you’re not eating and even Bartholomew is worried about you. Now I know this is something personal, you breaking up with Shane, but it’s killing you.”

Matthew glared at her. “I appreciate your concern but honestly, it’s nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to be rude—”

“Oh tosh, you’re my friend. At least I think we are?” She flapped a hand. “You can be as rude as you like, you know it won’t make any difference to me.”

Matthew did indeed know that Julia was very thick-skinned and could take a lot of his fairly high-handed stubbornness without batting one of her long eyelashes.

“I know you had an argument with Shane, and while I only know the high-level detail, I do know it’s making you into a moody little bitch.”

Matthew’s mouth gaped open. He’d never quite been described that way before.

“So you have to ask yourself. If it makes you some sort of drama queen diva, then did you make the right decision to kick Shane out of it?”

Matthew was still gawping at the words ‘drama queen diva,’ something else he’d not been called before. “Did you just come in here to insult me, or did you have a purpose in mind for this conversation?” he asked sullenly.

She chortled. “I came to give you a talking to. Bartholomew agrees with me.”

Matthew felt a sudden panic. “Christ, Julia, he’s my boss. I can’t let him think my personal life is affecting my job. Has he said anything to you about my work, or that I’m not performing, or anything?”

Julia shook her head sorrowfully. “Matthew, you’re here at six in the morning, you only leave at nine p.m., and you work harder that anyone I know. So no, Bartholomew is not worried about your work. He’s worried about you.”

She leaned over the desk, and he saw her breasts jiggling under her shirt, which always tended to be fairly low. He quickly brought his eyes back up to her face.

“He’s really very fond of you. He thinks of you almost as a son. You know his son died in a boating accident about five years ago? He has no other children.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Matthew felt sad that someone as good and gentle as Bartholomew had no child. His boss was an incredible role model, and Matthew had found himself trying to emulate some of the man’s better qualities.

“Well, he really likes you. But he doesn’t want to interfere.”

“That’s why he sent you then,” said Matthew, anticipating a response. He wasn’t disappointed.

Julia stood up and walked over to him and cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. “Oi. Enough of that, you cheeky devil. Remember to be civil to your elders.”

Despite himself, Matthew grinned.

Julia clapped her hands. “Now there’s the Matthew we know we and love. The one who always had a smile on his face when he had Shane.”

At the mention of Shane’s name, Matthew’s face darkened. His friend raised her hands in supplication and said quietly, “I don’t know everything that went on. But you are not a happy man, my friend. You haven’t been for the last week since the breakup. I just want to see you happy again. I see you looking at your phone all the time as if you want to call him. So you can’t be that far gone, Matthew.”

Matthew sighed. “It’s just taking time to get over it. I’ll be fine.” He knew he was lying. No matter what he was telling Julia, it was never going to be all right. He missed Shane so much it felt like a gap in his heart, like a part of him had been ripped from his body and left a festering, putrid sore.

He’d had time to think over the past week. He could still see Shane’s white and stricken face. Matthew thought he might have overreacted – justifiably – but perhaps a little OTT. What Shane had done was reprehensible, but he’d not done it to be malicious. He’d done it to find out more about what made Matthew tick, to get to know him, and it was his inbred curiosity about things that had led down the path he’d taken. Matthew had to acknowledge that he’d taken the man on knowing what he did and that he wasn’t going to change much on that score.

But Shane knew too many things about Matthew now, too many terrible things. Shane had texted or tried to call him every day. Matthew still re-read the texts on his phone that he’d saved.

Matthew, we need to talk. I don’t want to throw it all away because I did something stupid. I love you. S x

Matty, please pick up your bloody phone. Let’s talk. S xx

Matty, please call me. I miss you, babe. S

You stubborn bastard, can you at least text me back, let me know you’re okay? S

“Matthew?”

He looked up. Julia was regarding him with a sympathetic expression. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

He stood up and walked to the window, looking down into the busy street below. His voice was tight when he spoke. “I’m always thinking about him.”

Julia came up behind him and he felt her arms encircle his waist as she pressed herself against his back. He closed his eyes at the feeling of another human being against him. It was nothing sexual, just pure comfort, and Julia knew exactly how to give it. He reached down and covered her hands with his own.

“Then call him, Matthew,” she whispered in his ear. “Talk to him. Try and work it out, you stubborn, stubborn man.”

“I’m not sure doing that will make things any better. I said some pretty nasty things to him.”

“Remember the last time I told you to try, Matthew? I told you to just try. And that time worked out pretty well. That’s all you can do.” She let go of him, kissed him softly on the cheek and moved away.

“Think about it.” Julia moved over to the door and left with one last smile.

Matthew stood for a few more minutes and finally, he heaved a great sigh and sat back down at his desk. He’d have to think about things. He knew he wanted Shane still, more than anyone in his life, but he wasn’t sure he could fully forgive what he’d done. Tonight he was going out with David for a few drinks, as the man had nagged him incessantly to be more sociable and he’d finally caved in. But maybe tomorrow he’d think more about it.

Shane was drunk. He snorted with laughter as Timmy gyrated on the dance floor with his current dancing partner, a huge man in tight jeans and a billowing white shirt. Timmy had a wonderful sense of balance and a dancing style par excellence. Shane knew firsthand just how the man felt when he swung those lean hips of his and rubbed his groin against his own. The other man was an absolute non-runner. He had no sense of dance, simply rolling his hips around and losing his rhythm every time the music changed beat. Shane found the whole thing extremely funny. He had a pretty good sense of rhythm himself and he thought he might go up and give the man a run for his money.

Timmy had convinced him to come out tonight, even though he really hadn’t felt like it. But now he’d had almost a quarter bottle of tequila, things were definitely looking up. He needed to pee, so he stood up and waved at his friend, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. Timmy nodded

Timmy had been Shane’s rock since he’d broken up with Matthew. There was no sex involved, simply a friend, as Shane just wasn’t in a place yet to even contemplate another man in his life, not even for pure sex.

Timmy’s biggest job seemed to be keeping Shane on the straight and narrow. He watched him like a hawk, curbing the drinking that had seemed to become a regular occurrence for Shane at the nightclubs in the past week.

Shane now knew what Matthew must have felt like when Sam died and how he’d spiralled down into the path of self-destruction. He told himself he was simply enjoying his newfound single status—without the sex.

Shane missed Matthew so much, and it still hurt every minute of every day. He’d tried to reach out and make contact, hoping something might give and they could talk. He’d taken the first step as usual, texting Matthew, calling him. But Matthew, control freak extraordinaire, hadn’t responded.

Shane could wait no longer. He planned on calling him tomorrow, and if he refused to answer he’d be going around to his house. He’d do anything to make physical contact with the man. He’d beg if he had to. Where Matthew was concerned he wasn’t too proud, and this last week had been pure hell.

He reached the bathroom, passing two men busy humping in the corridor, squeezed past them and staggered into the urinal. He unzipped his tight, ass-hugging jeans and heaved a sigh of relief as he pissed. Finally satiated, he turned and made his way out of the bathroom where the two men were still going at it.

“Jesus, chaps, get a room,” he giggled as he passed them. Shane weaved drunkenly and decided he needed some fresh air. He made his way to the main door and found himself out on the street, the fresh air assaulting his senses and making his head reel.

It was quiet, hardly anyone around apart from a few bundles of rags in shop doors. People tended not to come out on the street on their own as it could be a fairly risky prospect despite the bouncers on the door. But in his current state he’d not thought about that until now. He leaned against the wall,and closed his eyes, starting to feel sick. Glancing at the door, he wondered hazily where the bouncers were. He hadn’t seen them on his way out. There was a noise beside him and Shane smiled, thinking Timmy had come to find him.

“Timmy, that guy was really into you. He can’t dance for shit, but at least you’ll get laid. I don’t know what your boyfriend would make of all that, though.”

“Hello, you little slag.” The sibilant voice in his ear came first followed by a hard punch to his stomach, leaving him doubled over and gasping for breath. “I bet you didn’t think you’d see me again, did you, you little queer?” The vicious tones of Roy Parsons resonated in the street. Shane tried to stand up but was hit again, another couple of heavy punches to his gut that left him retching. His evening’s tequila mix threatened to rise up and meet the pavement as he retched over and over.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Shane managed to look up to see the man in front, who had a balaclava over his head. But he knew it was Roy from the voice and the eyes.

“Especially without those two boyfriends of yours. You must like being the meat in the sandwich with them, you little pervert.”

“Fuck off, Roy,” Shane managed to get out in a strangled voice. He was doubled over with the pain of Roy’s gut punches, his stomach feeling twisted and bruised. His throat was sore from retching. “Go and find someone else to bully, you bastard.”