The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise (8 page)

Christopher nodded and followed Doug back toward the shore as best he could. Compared to Doug’s efficient breaststroke, his own sloppy attempt at making progress in the water was a joke. Doug reached the shallower water, dawdled for a moment, and then came back toward him. “Let your body stretch out,” he said quietly. “If you try to stay upright in the water, you’re barely going to move at all.”

“Stretch out?”

“Give me your hands.”

Only a little nervous, Christopher held out both hands. Doug took them and pulled him toward the shore. “Let your feet come up behind you. You want to break the surface when you kick.” Doug flinched as Christopher managed to hit him with the splash from each kick. “Try to kick from your hips. Don’t lock your knees, but don’t bend them quite so much when you kick, either.”

He might not be much of a swimmer, but he’d been an athlete his entire life. He knew enough about the mechanics of his body to adjust the angle of his legs, adjust the speed of his kicks until he found a rhythm he knew his muscles could maintain for hours.

Doug stopped pulling him toward the shore but kept holding his arms out. “If you really want to make this easy, take a deep breath, put your face in the water, and slowly blow out all of the air you can through your nose.”

“In the water?”

Doug stopped moving, and Christopher surged toward him. He was surprised to feel the sand beneath them. Doug leaned back on his elbows and grinned. “You’re built to swim.”

“Nobody built me,” Christopher said, more out of habit than any real annoyance.

“I wasn’t talking about religion. I mean all that running and weight lifting. It counts as bodybuilding, doesn’t it?” Doug asked.

He felt the rough callouses on Doug’s fingers against his side. “Can we just stay here like this?” he asked.

Doug nipped at his neck. “Not a chance. I want to get you naked again, and if we stay here, the sand will end up in places you really don’t want sand to be. And we might get arrested.”

A familiar tightness in his chest choked the wave of happiness he’d been riding for the last week. Every time he tried to bring up the possibility of staying in San Diego, Doug deflected the question. Usually he distracted Christopher with a blow job, so he didn’t quite have the willpower to complain, but Doug had to know he was serious.

“Hey!” Christopher squirmed away from Doug as he snaked his hand beneath the mesh lining of his trunks. “Not here. There are kids.”

Doug let him go. “Fine. Kids. Got it. Want to try the board?” He nodded toward the shore where the blue foam surfboard they’d rented sat next to their towels.

Christopher ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at the sand already ground into his scalp. He’d spent twenty minutes in the shower yesterday, carefully rinsing sand from around the delicate scar tissue. The clinic where he’d had the stitches removed had put a liquid bandage over the scar and promised him by the time it wore off he wouldn’t need it, but the skin still felt raw. He’d watched Doug catch wave after wave yesterday, and more still this morning. But every time he tried it, he ended up pushing too hard when he popped up. Whatever he was doing wrong sent him crashing face-first into the water and the soft board flying over his head. Once he’d crashed into the wet sand, caking the entire area around the fresh scar with grit. As much fun as it was to watch Doug surf, Christopher wasn’t sure trying it again was worth it.

“I’d rather watch you.”

“You sure?”

He rolled his tongue around the top of his soft pallet, trying to get the lingering grains of sand out of the back of his throat. “I’m sure. I could watch you surf all day.” With Doug’s chiseled features and amazing body, he definitely could.

As he tried shaking some of the sand out of his hair, he heard Doug’s cell phone ringing from his pile of clothes. He turned to ask Doug if he wanted to answer it, but Doug had already grabbed the smaller of the two surfboards they’d rented and was heading back into the water.

He dug out the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Doug?” A gasping woman’s voice was on the other end.

“Nope, it’s me. What’s up, Brit?”

“Chris? Oh thank God. Is Doug there?”

“Not exactly. He’s about fifteen yards off shore. He’s way out of earshot. Want me to give him a message?”

“Can you have him call me back? Right away? He needs to get home fast.”

“What’s happened?”

“The sheriff just called to have me go out to Doug’s place. The Ronan Fire Department was called out there this morning, and…. I know they found a body, a male with brown hair, but…. Oh God, do you swear he’s really there with you?”

A male body at Doug’s house? They hadn’t even been gone for a week. Christopher took a deep breath and forced his voice to stay calm and soothing. “Brittney, listen to me, okay? I’m going to go get Doug and have him call you back. Is there anyone else in the office you can send out to the scene right now? Any evidence you might find is going to become less conclusive by the minute. Can you call someone in Ronan?”

“I….” She sniffled into the phone. “I’m already on my way. Ronan’s coroner is on-site, too. I’m okay. So long as it’s not you or Doug, I’m okay. Tell him to call me back soon? Please? I’m going to have my hands full, but he can leave me a message. Just so I know he’s all right.”

“I’ll have him call right away,” Christopher promised.

D
OUG
SAT
on the back steps descending from Ray and Elliot’s patio, listening to the endless ring of Brittney’s phone again. After four rings, it went to voice mail, and he hung up and dialed again.

Christopher draped his arms around Doug’s neck. “Still no luck?”

He hung up as her high-pitched voice invited him to leave a message. “She’s still not answering. Fuck, I’ve never actually wanted her to answer the phone before. I feel useless being stuck down here.”

“You try calling Daniels?”

“Yeah. He asked where I was, how long I’d been here, and if I had an objective alibi. Then he hung up on me.”

“An alibi?”

Doug set his phone down beside him and stared at the deep canyon extending north and south behind Elliot’s small yard. The only difference between the yard and the canyon itself was that the yard was technically on the inside of the fence. Thistle, cacti, and dead milkweed covered everything. At the base of the canyon, scrub oak and palm trees grew thick along what Doug guessed was a seasonal stream. The setting sun made the entire canyon glow.

It was odd finding something so natural and rugged in the middle of a city the size of San Diego.

“Caleb Owens is dead, too,” Christopher said simply.

“The kid those little assholes teased about being gay?”

“I think so. I figured I’d see if there was any coverage of your place on the news.” Christopher passed Doug his smartphone.

He recognized the logo of one of the news stations from Kalispell at the top of the mobile webpage. The article below was a short blurb about the suicide of eighteen-year-old Elkin resident Caleb Owens, who’d shot himself in his parents’ home Sunday.

Doug glanced over his shoulder at Christopher. “Sunday? Damn. Two dead bodies in one week. A year of stolen bicycles and pot busts, and the week I leave, there are two suspicious deaths.”

“Whatever’s going on at your place today hasn’t hit the news yet, but it’s just a matter of time.”

Your place
, Doug thought miserably. Of all the things that should be demanding his attention after finding out there was a body found on his property, and possibly a fire too, was the way Christopher was so damn careful to disassociate himself from their house.

But no matter how much he wished he knew what was going on back in Elkin, nothing could mute the growing dread that his life, his life with Christopher, was crumbling around him.

Doug ran his fingertips along Christopher’s forearms. His skin was still grainy with sand and dried saltwater. “I’m just kidding myself here, aren’t I?”

“Hmm?”

“You never actually meant for me to come along on this trip. You never meant to come back to Montana. Back to me.”

He felt Christopher shift behind him, felt him take a deep breath and hold it. “I didn’t expect you to come with me, but I’m glad you did.”

“But now….” Doug gestured with the phone. “Someone’s dead.” Doug passed his phone back to him and leaned back against his chest. “Fuck.”

He let himself enjoy the warmth radiating from Christopher’s body a little longer. He had to swallow the bile rising in his throat when he realized he wouldn’t get a chance to come home to find Christopher waiting for him in bed again. He shut his eyes and forced himself to keep breathing. “Give me a ride to the airport?”

“We can’t fly right into Elkin,” Christopher reminded him. “We might as well just drive back.”

“I’ll fly into Missoula and bug Brittney for a ride.”

Christopher’s arms tightened around him, squeezing him so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. “Don’t say shit like that. Yes, I hate it there. I really hate it. But I love you, and there’s no chance in hell I’m going to let you deal with this shit without me.”

“I’m not going to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

“Good,” Christopher said quickly. “Because the last thing I want is to stay here alone when I’ve got nothing to do but worry about what’s happening to you up there. Without me, Daniels and Brittney are the only ones likely to believe you didn’t have anything to do with that body.”

“You’re jumping to some pretty extreme conclusions,” Doug pointed out.

Christopher loosened his grip and dropped his forehead onto Doug’s shoulder. “I hope you’re right. Come hop in the shower with me, and then we’ll figure things out, okay?”

Doug checked his phone once more, trying to will it to ring.

Christopher’s lips were soft against the crook of his neck. “Shower,” he said again.

Doug followed Christopher into Elliot’s house and set his phone on the counter in the bathroom. Christopher turned the volume up on his own phone and set it down beside Doug’s, then turned to start the water. Doug watched him strip in the mirror, surprised at the pink tint on his chest and back.

“You got sunburned.”

Christopher rolled his shoulders. “Yeah. I always do. Regular sunblock’s enough if I’m out in the mountains or a bit inland, but when I’m near the water, I always burn.” Christopher slipped Doug’s T-shirt up over his chest. Doug brought his arms up, letting Christopher undress him.

“I probably shouldn’t grab you by the shoulders or scratch your back, then, huh?”

Christopher smiled at his reflection, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind. Of course, I wouldn’t mind if you volunteered to rub some burn gel all over me, either.”

“You have burn gel?”

Christopher poked him just below his rib cage. “You have burn gel. I’ve seen the little first-aid thing you carry in your wallet. You’re like a Boy Scout. One who’s found a way to get everything you might ever possibly need in tiny foil packets.”

“I’m not that bad,” Doug muttered.

Christopher wiggled his hands into the pocket of Doug’s shorts and pulled out his wallet. In the center fold, behind a few bucks in cash, were several packets of antibiotic ointment, cortisone, coagulant powder, and a large packet of burn gel.

“Okay, I’m that bad. I hate not being able to handle things.” Christopher tugged on the corner of the packet and turned around, exposing his back to Doug. When he brought the foil packet up to his teeth, Doug snatched it from his hands. “Don’t do that! It’s mostly lidocaine. You want your tongue to be numb for the next few hours?”

Christopher smirked at him. “Would it make anything I lick numb, too?”

Doug met his gaze and managed to keep a straight face for about ten seconds. No matter what went wrong, he could always count on Christopher to make him laugh. The laughter died as soon as it escaped, though, when he remembered Christopher wasn’t coming home with him. He might be driving Doug back to Montana, but he wasn’t going to stay.

Christopher pouted dramatically. “Oh, come on. I just got you to smile.”

Doug tossed the burn gel on the counter. “You need to shower first,” he said. “Otherwise, it’ll just wash off.”

“Fine.” Christopher kicked off his shorts and stepped into the stall.

Doug took off the rest of his clothes and climbed in behind Christopher. He was careful to keep his hands down near Christopher’s hips, away from the burns. Christopher had gained weight over the last year. Backing off on his running had allowed him to build a dense upper body that never failed to leave Doug so hard it hurt to look at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, rubbing his thumbs over Christopher’s hips and upper thighs.

Christopher stepped away from him, into the spray. “You’re biased.”

Doug followed him, sliding against him like he always did. Christopher fit against him so perfectly, like he’d been made just for him, and it hurt to imagine this might be his last chance to feel so close to him.

“Can we….” Doug swallowed hard. “Can we switch this time?”