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Authors: Dan Skinner

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Chapter Forty-seven

The next day was dedicated to picking up and throwing out the debris of the bomb that had gone off in the house.
The Dick-bomb. It filled a dumpster.

Then it was all about safeguarding my livelihood.
Alex bought an external hard drive for my computer and showed me how to use it to download all of my work to storage that could be disconnected and hidden away. It was as small as a wallet but could hold all of my work. Each time I did a shoot, I just had to do the backup and then hide the EHD. I had a special place in a drawer in my room. I reinsured my camera and all my equipment for the maximum amount. I couldn’t believe I was now protecting my business against the person who had begun it with me. I’d look into separating our business relationship when I could catch my breath from the interviews and shoots I still had scheduled.

For a few days, we
could breathe easily. Dick was nowhere around. He was out playing Lonesome Dove again at his friend's ranch. For the time being we could go on with normal life.

I was shooting some romance shots outdoors with a new group of models when
Alex handed me his phone. On its display was something I’d never dreamed I'd see. My novel had been chosen for a prestigious award in the LGBT authors’ community as an outstanding gay romance of the year. I looked twice to make certain it wasn’t a practical joke.

I let out a yelp. I
’d never won an award. Not even a single trophy. Alex said I had a face-splitting grin.

The models, overhearing the news, were hooting for me. We scared birds out of the bush with our noise. I snapped a picture of everyone yelling and birds flying. It would be my personal picture of celebration reminding me of the event.

Once again, Alex kissed me. In front of the models who made that audience noise you hear in sitcoms when people kiss. “Yes," he said afterwards.

I was confused.
“Yes?”


Consider that my answer that I will accept your invitation for a date.”

I didn
’t think he could surprise me again, but he had. “A date?” I asked.


I’d be delighted. Thank you for asking.”

****

It’s hard to believe that I’d never been on a date in my life. Not the kind where you were actually courting someone. If that’s how you even said it. Not someone you really hoped would be the one that cared for you the old-fashioned sense. I was delirious in a behind the times kind of way.

I got to plan the date because, technically, I was the one who asked. If you don
’t take into account the obvious manipulation. I chose a Thai restaurant for the vegetarian selections on the menu. More and more I’d adapted my eating habits to align with his. The thirty-two inch waist I had back after ten years encouraged me to stay with it.

I had to pick him up at his
parents' house. They wanted to meet me. I was nervous. Forty-years old and having to meet my date’s parents. I was probably as old as them. I shook inside with anxiety. What I hadn’t known was he’d already told them everything about me. They’d seen my photography; read my book, saw us together on television. They wouldn’t be surprised.

We sat and talked for a few minutes. They were pleasant folks, at least a decade older than me.
Alex resembled both of them a little. They lived in a simple but serenely appointed home. There was a goldfish tank as long as one wall in the living room that was more fun to watch than a TV. Alex sat in a chair opposite me; leaning forward, knees together, hands on knees, smile on his face, which he moved back and forth as if watching a tennis match, following our conversation. It was a cute as sin. They adored their son and he them.

I was sweating pretty good anyplace on my body I hadn
’t sprayed with antiperspirant by the time we left for dinner. His dad shook my hand with a generous smile. His mother kissed my cheek. It had gone well. I don’t feel like they thought I was an old pervert seducing their son.

By the perpetual
Cheshire smile on his face, Alex was as delighted as I was to be having a dinner date, in spite of the fact that we’d known each other awhile, slept on the same bed together, and shared a shower on numerous occasions, it still had the feeling of a
first time.

He was dressed all in white.
White button down shirt and white, pleated shorts with thin black belt and loafers. It made his naturally tan skin look tanner, teeth whiter; eyes brighter. His long hair swept like shining satin in front of his one eye which he brushed back behind an ear periodically. To sit across the table from him and stare straight into his face felt unreal. Not because of his handsomeness, but because he’d wanted me to ask him out.

We had a sumptuous dinner, talked about all the things we
’d talked about before, but pretending they were new. We walked off our fullness afterwards, holding hands. His palm in mine was soft and warm and fit like it belonged there. He made me think only pleasant thoughts. We sat on a park bench underneath a streetlamp where cool breezes blew, and we kissed. I let him start and finish it. It was so wonderful, so new to me.

I dropped him off at his parent
’s home. We shared another kiss on the doorstep, and I drove off feeling something I hadn’t felt in ages. Hope.

He had a pure soul.
He’d never speak an unkindness. Unlike most of us who would retaliate to nastiness in kind, he was one who would actually turn the other cheek and walk away. He was wise beyond his years, and had a solid core of calm. He enjoyed small things like holding hands, and falling asleep on my shoulder; playing footsies beneath a blanket, or sharing a shake with two straws like teenaged lovers. His smile was never far from his face and always sincere. Love to him was a sequence of small pleasures most would overlook. He altered my definition of sex from an act serving only to provide physical pleasure into the deeply felt need to share and cement the closeness of a bond between two people. We’d never touched more intimately than a kiss or an embrace. He made me look forward to those. He made me dream of the days when there would be more. His place in my life filled my vision so full I rarely thought of Dick. The ugliness trailed away to vagueness with the days he remained gone.

*  *  *

I’d just walked into the condo after the date when I sensed something amiss. I smelled the faint traces of alcohol, mud and animals. Aromas not common to the house, but that had always followed Dick when he returned from the horse farm. He was nowhere in sight, but he’d left a trail behind him. I followed it upstairs to his room.

I first noticed that his triathlon medals were missing from their wall mounts. His clothes had
all been removed from the closet. Shelves and racks were empty. Bare hangers and plastic bins. Only a couple of old pairs of running shoes and ball caps had been left behind. All his toiletries were gone. His scrapbooks were gone, along with his DVDs and video games. He had cleared his life out from the condo completely. It was apparent he’d moved out. The disappearance of all the things that tied him to the condo lifted his omnipresent black cloud.

The constriction in my chest eased as I descended to the lower level.
Until I saw the door to my office ajar and the light on. That wasn’t the way I’d left it before my date with Alex. I pushed the door open, and stepped inside. My chair was close to the desk and turned to the side. The way he liked to sit there. My computer was on. I felt suddenly ill. All the smells I encountered when I first stepped into the house were more concentrated in here, my private workspace.

Words from long ago came back like a haunting refrain. He
’d used them to talk me into moving out here to the condo with him. They were supposed to be a testimony of his honesty with me. “I’m at your mercy as long as you have all those pictures of me with guys.”

I sat down at the desk, moved the mouse to pull up all the files of my photographs
; the years' worth of stored work. What should have been tier after tier of files listed by their dates now looked like a moth-eaten shirt. Holes everywhere. Blocks and blocks of files missing. Hundreds of them. They’d all been cleared out. I checked the Recycle Bin. It had been emptied as well. I didn’t need to see what was in those files. I knew every one of my pictures by heart and where they were located. He had purged every single file that had contained a photograph of him. Down to the very first ones I’d taken.

I remained calm. That was one thing
Alex had been teaching me to do when crisis or chaos appeared. He’d been right. He was a genius for doing the backup on the external hard drive. Dick hadn’t counted on that. He was probably sitting out at his new Home-on-the-Range thinking he was scot free, that all the evidence was gone.

I stared at the blank spots on the screen, remembering each shot I
’d taken, one by one. How he had captivated me back then; excited me. How what once began as a game between us became an intractable lie that forced me into a false life. Perhaps he was right in a sense. He had played me. That all of this had just been another act for him. I was comfortable and easy, gullible and willing. It’s funny how something you once thought was the epitome of magnificent could become so repulsive without one molecule of its structure having changed. It wasn’t what was perceived on the exterior, but the vileness contained within that changed it for you. I once heard someone say that evil couldn’t work with a wicked face. That made sense to me now.

I called
Alex. He was there in half an hour restoring all the deleted photos from the EHD. I found that I wasn’t as disturbed by the fact that he had tried to destroy the visible trail of his past with me so much as why he did it. Dick didn’t leave bystanders to his deeds. Only victims. He had privately declared a war on me, hoping to surprise me with something that would knock me down and out of his way forever.

Alex
felt it as well. “Keep your phone near you at all times,” he said, sternly. I could see the concern in his face. “All you have to do is hit that one button in an emergency.”

We were right. Something was going to happen.

Chapter
Forty-eight

The war began with an email I
received from Dick the next day.

It read
, “Just to give you a heads up, you might want to find another place to live. I’m putting the condo up for sale in ninety days. I have moved to the ranch with my fiancé. Good luck. Your landlord, Richard Fitch.”

****

“I thought the two of you owned the house together,” Alex said as I told him about the shocking email.


It’s in his name. We made the agreement that he’d pay the mortgage and I’d pay the other bills, but he had me sign some paper that said if anything happened to him, his insurance would pay it off and it’d be mine. I’ve been paying for all the renovation and the construction of the studio. He told me all of this was taken care of in writing in the mortgage documents, his will and his life insurance.”

Even if he didn
’t want me to see it, the skepticism was clear in Alex’s eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Did you read everything you signed?”

I thought back. I didn
’t understand legal terminology the way Dick did. It was part of his business. He told me what was in the documents and I blindly signed them. I was kicking my own ass now and panicking as I did so. I’d been an idiot, and I knew it. I’d never even read the documents he handed me to sign when forming our business. It felt like nuclear missiles were exploding in my head.


Do you have copies?” he asked.

I
kept all the important documents in a locked file cabinet in my bedroom. They were still there. They hadn’t vanished with everything else. The key was kept in a cigar humidor in the living room. I retrieved the key and unlocked it. It took me a few moments to locate all the documents. Those having to do with the condo, his will, his life insurance and the company we co-owned. I handed them to Alex. I hoped he knew what he was reading. I never did. The idea that I should have had an attorney do it at the time never crossed my trusting mind.

He sat
cross-legged on the floor and read through each document carefully. He’d lost his tan as he finished one and moved to the next. Finally, he looked up at me. His eyes were saucer-wide. Fear didn’t look good on him.


What is it? Just tell me,” I said, trying to brace myself for the things my instincts were already telling me.


J.J., you’re not included anywhere in any shape or form in his will or life insurance. And the document you signed,” he pulled one out of the folder that held the papers on the house, “this is a renter’s agreement. You made Dick your landlord and it states very clearly that, for any reason he sees fit to do so, he can terminate your lease here and throw you out. He’s not on any document for your company. You’re the sole owner of it and responsible for all its debts, including taxes. You may well owe back taxes. We’ll have to check those too.”

I was sinking inside
, the anchor of my own naiveté pulling me down.


If anything happens to him everything he owns goes to his mother, and he’s given her the authority to throw you out as well.” He shut the folders and stared at them. “You said he has access to your bank accounts, and put you on an allowance because he was investing your money?”

Now sheer, uncontrolled terror of
the consequences of my mistake burned through me like a flamethrower. I couldn’t voice it. Words would only make it worse for me. I nodded.


Oh sheesh,” he said, rubbing his face nervously. “We need to get to your bank ASAP.”

He drove me to the bank. I was too unfocused to be behind the wheel. He was giving me assurances we
’d get to the bottom of everything and find a resolution. It was hard to believe at this point.

The scope of my dilemma would become apparent at the bank. I hadn
’t checked my balance in ages. There was no need for me too. Dick was the money man. The guy who could do my taxes with one hand tied behind his back. I hadn’t questioned anything he’d done in ages. I wasn’t a big spender. I bought groceries and a few occasional props and light bulbs for my camera lights.

The teller pulled my balance. It was the first time in my life I felt weak enough to almost collapse. I didn
’t want to tell Alex how many zeros were missing. I had less than two thousand dollars to my name. I quickly tallied in my head how much I should have had in there from my sales over just the last few years. I could have paid for the condo twice over. Where had the money gone? I hadn’t just been fleeced. This lamb had been eaten down to the bone and sucked clean of marrow.

I felt
Alex’s arm hold me protectively as I sat there with the bank executive and changed my account, transferred what little I had into the new one, got a new debit card and made certain Dick no longer had access to any of it. I’d committed horrendous murders several times over in my mind. It had been a long time since I’d felt such an animalistic urge to destroy something. Alex whispered calm things in my ear, helping me maintain through the tedium of bank paperwork. He was doing everything in his power to keep me from thinking negatively. He had his work cut out for him. I could kill Dick with my bare hands, without remorse;,without guilt, and piss on his corpse before I fed it to feral dogs.


I’ll say it for you and then I want you to put those thoughts out of your head, J.J. I don’t want you to dwell on unhealthy things while we resolve these problems.” He was driving us back to the condo. I wasn’t cognizant of scenery. “He’s a scoundrel. He’s a liar. He’s a user. He is representative of everything ugly a human can be in this life. He belongs in prison. Not you. So don’t think things that can put you there. Thoughts lead to deeds when they lose the balance of reason.”


I stood beside him through everything. I protected his precious image all these years to his family and friends. I never let him down, never said one thing. I was a friend to him.” I lost my breath after every sentence because I felt the pain of the truth now. “He hated his mother. He came to me to get away from her, so he could live the way he wanted. I’m the one who helped him do that. And he leaves everything to her? This is how he repays me?” It was too incredible to be believed. I needed bigger, heavier boots to kick myself.


Okay, you’ve said it. Get it out of your system with those words,” Alex said firmly. “Now we start doing what’s necessary to salvage what he hasn’t taken, and rebuild from that.”


In ninety days?” I blurted out. “He’s evicting me in ninety days with two thousand dollars to my name and no place to go. I have no family to run to. I’m in my fucking forties. It’s not like I can find another roommate to take me in to run a business from home like mine. He’s fucked me over royally and he knows it.”


I want you to stay calm. No one is fucked over yet. We’re going to call that lawyer who was at Pride. The gay attorney that I train, Cain Martin. We’ll tell him what’s happened and then he’ll help us figure out what we’re going to do.”


I don’t have money to pay an attorney,” I nearly shouted in my stress, feeling like I could see the rest of my money funneling out of my account into a lawyer's pocket.


He specializes in LGBT cases for people who have less money than you, and who have lost their jobs because of people purposely trying to destroy their lives due to their sexuality. You’re going to have to invest some trust in someone to get this thing taken care of.”

It seemed as if my heart was going to jump out of my chest with the anxiety. I didn
’t have any other solutions. I called Cain Martin’s office and set up an appointment for the next day. My voice shook unrecognizably with terror.

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