My Brother’s Keeper- 2

“We owe that guy,” Jerry said once he had caught his breath.

Roy nodded in agreement. He was bent over, his hands on the tattered knees of his jeans as he tried to breathe normally again. Straightening finally, he said, “We do, but since we didn’t see him that’s going to be a bit of a problem.”

“At least he saw Daws and his gang.” Jerry pushed back deeper into the corner of the doorway, not caring that it was full of God only knew what kind of trash. At this point in his life something like that didn’t faze him any more than it did his brother.

“Let’s hope Daws didn’t get a good look at him.” Roy dropped down to sit beside Jerry, opening the bag of food. “Diner is served,” he said with a wry chuckle.

“Yep. Oysters on the half-shell, without the oysters, filet mignon, well the bacon anyway, lots of tossed salad…literally.” Jerry took out a dinner roll, wiping the worst of what was on it onto a half-used paper napkin, and ate it in two bites. Then he took the last remains of a chicken leg, looked at it and sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. “Will we ever get used to this?” he asked mournfully.

“You don’t have to. You can go back home and be welcomed with open arms.”

“That’s not happening, Roy. I won’t do that until it’s both of us. I promised you that.”

Roy smiled sadly. “Then I guess you’re stuck living on the streets.” He fished out a hunk of meat he thought was probably the last of a pork chop, wrapped it in a couple of lettuce leaves and ate it without shuddering. “Go ahead, finish up what’s in there,” he told his brother once his mouth was empty.

“What about you? You’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“Not all that hungry,” Roy told him with a small smile. He was actually, but there was hardly enough for one of them, to say the least of two. 

Jerry frowned, but did as Roy told him after wrapping his thin jacket tighter around himself when a brisk breeze kicked up. “Where are we sleeping tonight?” he asked around a mouthful of bread.

“I was thinking the Ritz, but I maxed out my credit card,” Roy replied with a straight face. He chuckled when Jerry looked at him in disbelief and then caught the joke. “Actually, if we’re lucky, we can use the rooftop shed again. So far Daws and his gang haven’t stumbled on to it. We just have to get there without his seeing us.”

“He can’t be everywhere at once.”

Roy nodded as he said wryly, “Bet me. So far he’s done a pretty good job of finding us on the street.”

“So maybe it’s time to find somewhere else?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think so. Tomorrow.”

My Brother’s Keeper- 1

“Why are we doing this again?” Melodie looked at her boyfriend as if he was totally out of his mind.

“Because Mr. Moore wants us to take photos of something relevant to what works and doesn’t work in the city,” Tad told her for what seemed like the umpteenth time in the last few hours.

“And this,” she swept her arm around to encompass the empty alley below them, “is relevant to what?”

“Shush up and wait,” he muttered as he rested his elbows on the roof’s low brick parapet. He pointed his camera down one more time to make certain the settings were what he needed.

“Don’t you tell me to shush up, mister,” Melodie replied petulantly.

Angrily, he put a finger to his lips when he saw movement from the entrance to the alley. As they watched, two poorly dressed young men, one who appeared to be eighteen or nineteen, the other a couple of years younger, came into view. The older one held up his hand and then pointed to one of the dumpsters that sat behind a restaurant.

Tad could hear the younger one whisper, his words carrying in the clear night air, “Are you sure they’re not hiding somewhere?”

The older one nodded emphatically but when Tad focused his camera in on his face he could see that he wasn’t as certain as he tried to appear. Tad followed them with his camera, taking pictures as they made their way to the dumpster. Moments later they had the top open and were digging through the restaurant garbage. Tad took a shot of one of them lifting out a half-eaten roll with one hand to devour it, while still searching through the dregs of food with his other hand.

Several minutes passed as the young men accumulated the best of the thrown out food, which they put into a paper sack one of them had set on the ground between them.

Melodie, bored and restless, began playing with Tad’s hair in hopes of distracting him. Tad hissed under his breath as he moved away. He aimed the camera back down, intent on snapping off a few more shots before the young men left. As he did he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned the camera towards the far end of the alley. Three boys, all in their late teens, stood there. Each of them held some sort of weapon, a pipe, a baseball bat, a short length of lumber. As they began creeping quietly towards their intended prey Tad clicked off two pictures.

The two young men were so intent on getting the last of what might be edible out of the dumpster that they were oblivious to what was about to happen. Tad leaned over the parapet and shouted, “Run!”

The young men didn’t even hesitate. The older one grabbed the sack and they took off like the hounds of Hell were after them. The three teens hesitated momentarily, looking up at Tad standing three stories above them. One of them shouted, “You’re dead, man,” as they took off after their intended victims.

Tad sighed in relief when he realized that his warning had given the pair the head start they needed to get out of the alley onto the street. Even though it was late, there was enough traffic, foot and car, that Tad thought they would be safe from their pursuers. Apparently the punks felt the same way. They pulled to a stop at the alley entrance, their angry voices wafting up to where Tad still stood. With one menacing look up at him, they turned tail and ran back the way they’d come.

(44) I am what I am

~Blair~

I watched the confrontation between Quinn and the drunk, shaking inside—and outside I realized as I looked at my hands. What if the man decided to try and fight him? Quinn was tall and well built but the drunk was huge, muscular and, well, drunk. As I saw him head for the door I sighed in relief.

“Are you all right?” Quinn asked in concern as he sat down beside me again.

I nodded.

“I was fine, if that’s what you’re upset about,” he said, running his hand over my back. “Handling drunks comes with the territory.”

I nodded again.

“Okay, want to spill it?”

“I…was afraid for you. That man…” It suddenly hit me and I started to shake all over again.

Quinn got it immediately. “He reminded you of your stepfather. I can see that now, his size and his voice. Oh hell, baby.” His arms went around me, wrapping me in a secure embrace. “It’s over,” he said softly. “It’s over and I’m here.” His voice caught and he whispered, “Always, if that’s what you want.”

I looked up at him and saw the question in his face, in his eyes. “Always sounds good to me,” was my heartfelt response.

His smile lit up my heart. Hell I think it lit up the whole room it was so broad. “You’re sure?”

“Yes Quinn, I’m sure. It’s only been a few days, but now I can’t begin to imagine what my life would be like if you weren’t in it.” I touched his cheek. “I fell for you that first night. Fell in love with you I think. And I love you more each time I see you.”

His reply was physical rather than verbal as he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me so wonderfully that I melted into it, breathing in his scent as I opened to him. I’ve never been kissed the way he kissed me. It was soft and hard, tender and demanding. It took me to heights I never thought I'd ever reach. And that was just his kiss. Somehow I knew that if…when we took the next step, I would be the happiest man ever because he loved me. Love I prayed I was worthy of and could return to him tenfold.

The End

(43) I am what I am

~ Quinn ~

One look at Blair’s face and I knew he wasn’t getting what I was trying to say, or maybe I just wasn’t saying it right. I’ve never been in love before if that’s what this is—what I’m feeling—so the words that I need aren’t there. Hell I’m just a cop. We’re all action, not emotions. So what do I do? Just spit it out?

I opened my mouth to do so, and let the chips fall where they may, when a loud voice rang through the room. A large, belligerent voice demanding another drink. I looked over at the bar. The man matched the voice and he was leaning over the bar, his hand twisting the bartender’s shirt as he glared at him.

“Be right back,” I told Blair before I pushed away from the table and crossed the room to the see if I could defuse the situation.

By the time I got to them, the man had released the bartender but he was still leaning over the bar, apparently trying to serve himself a beer.

“I think you’ve had enough,” I said in a quiet voice.

“Who the hell are you,” he growled, turning bloodshot eyes my way.

“Detective Eddison.” I flashed my badge.

“Yeah? Well that’s a pretty piece of tin, ‘Detective’ Eddison,” he sneered. “But I ain’t done nothing wrong. It’s him.” He pointed at the bartender. “He won’t get me another drink and I’m still thirsty.”

I looked at the bartender, rolling my eyes. “He says he’s thirsty. Get him a tall glass of water.”

“Fuck that, I want my beer.”

“Water’s all you get now, sir. Either sit down and drink it or leave. Those are your two choices.” To emphasize my words I pulled my jacket back just enough so that he could see I was armed.

He took a deep breath and I could tell he was trying to decide which was more important, making an issue of it and being arrested or just going. Apparently something sensible made its way through his beer-addled brain because he slammed his hand down on the bar muttering, “Be that way,” and then walked, well staggered towards the door. I was about to follow, realizing he could be heading for his car, when I heard the rattle of keys behind me. When I turned to look at the bartender he smiled slightly, holding up what I figured were the drunk’s car keys, and then he thanked me for stepping in.

“Not a problem,” I told him before heading back to the table and Blair.

Guardian Angels - If It's Fated… (10)

Dom held back, studying Richard Lewis, who was watching Tim interacting with Cherie. "Look like he's good with kids," Dom commented.

Richard chuckled. "To hear Cherie tell it, he walks on water. It almost makes me jealous at times. I take it he's a friend of yours?"

"A new friend. We met a few days ago." Dom added, before Richard could make any wrong assumptions, "I'm new in town and Tim helped me find a place to buy furniture for my apartment and then volunteered to show me around a bit. Thus, the museums."

"Museums? Plural?"

"Yeah, we hit up the art museum this morning."

"So you've seen them all. What next, art galleries?"

"Maybe. Who knows?" Dom realized Richard was paying more attention to Tim than to what they were talking about at the moment, which puzzled him, so he did a bit of probing. Oh really? Why does he think Tim even swings that way? And more to the point, what can I do about it? I can hardly come out and say 'He's gay'. 

"He seems like a nice man," Richard said.

"I agree." Dom took a flying leap with his next words. "A bit of a loner, from what I can tell. I have the distinct feeling his life revolves around the library and… well, the library. I practically had to drag him out for a beer a couple of days ago, to repay him for his help with my furniture." He chuckled. "We ended up at a place called Maxie's. Do you know it?"

Richard nodded. "I've been there a couple of times."

"Apparently Tim hadn't. I think he was surprised it catered to both straights and gays."

Richard turned to look at Dom, frowning. "He didn't like the idea?"

"Oh, I think he did," Dom replied. Then with a grin, he lied, telling Richard, "He was checking out the men while I did the same for the available females."

"I… see." Richard turned back to look at Tim again. "I… we should get going, I suspect. Abbie will be wondering what's taking so long."

"You're wife?"

"What? Oh, no. Cherie's nanny, Abbie Norton. I've never been married." Richard must have realized how that sounded. "Cherie is my niece. My sister died in childbirth and I was her only living relative. Since she was single, I got custody of Cherie and ended up adopting her."

"Thus, the nanny."

"Exactly. She is undoubtedly pacing the floor, since we're supposed to be joining her for our normal Sunday dinner get together." Without another word to Dom, Richard went over to where Cherie and Tim were checking out the display of dinosaur eggs.

Dom could hear him offering his apologies to Tim for breaking up their discussion before he took Cherie's hand, reminding her they had to stop at the store to pick up dessert before going to Mrs Norton's. 

As soon as they'd left, Dom went over to join Tim. "So do you now know more than you ever wanted to about prehistoric reptiles?"

Tim smiled. "Pretty much." He hesitated momentarily. "You and Mr Lewis seemed to be hitting it off."

"He was asking me about you, so I told him. Did you know Cherie was his niece before he adopted her?"

"No. I guess I figured her mother walked out on them." Then Tim obviously realized what Dom had said. "He was asking about me?"   

"Um-hum. He seemed quite interested."

"Probably wants to make sure I'm not a pedophile or some such."

"Maybe at first but…" Dom shrugged. "What say we get out of here and go find some place to sit down? My feet are killing me."

"Wuss," Tim teased.

"A wuss who'd not used to being on his feet all day the way you are."

"So he really seemed interested in me? I wonder…naw."

"You never know." Dom grinned. "He did say he's been to Maxie's a couple of times."

Tim looked at him in surprise. "You asked?"

"I was telling him about how we met and my dragging you there. He said he knew the place."

"But…" Tim shrugged. "Fifty-fifty why he does, you know."

Dom nodded. "Still better than if we'd gone to a straight bar and he said he hung out there a lot. Right?"

"Right," Tim replied, his expression pensive. "He seems like a nice man."

"Which is exactly what he said about you."

"Not that I'll ever see him again."

"You never know." You will if I have anything to say about it. I may be grasping at straws, but I think there's a definite possibility the two of you could hit it off. After all, you have Cherie in common, which is a good place to start.

(42) I am what I am

~Blair~

“I’ve never been to this bar,” I told Quinn once we’d found a table and ordered drinks. Stiff drinks as Jack had told us to.

It was a small place, cozy even, with soft music playing on the sound system. From what I could tell, the customers seemed to be a mix of straight and gay which helped me relax. When we’d first walked in I had cringed, thinking it was some neighborhood place where the patrons might make us feel uncomfortable, since Quinn had his arm around my waist. I should have known better. Quinn wouldn’t have done that to either of us.

“And just how many bars in the city have you been frequenting,” Quinn replied, smiling.

“Well,” I chewed my lip thoughtfully. “Not as many as you’re probably thinking. Just the ones in my neighborhood when…when things would get bad.”

“That’s going to change, Blair.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Are you telling me I can’t go out to one of them if I want to?” I didn’t know whether to be angry that he was trying to boss me around or happy that he cared enough that he didn’t want me in some bar on my own.

“Not at all.” He took my hand, looking directly at me. “I mean things aren’t going to get bad enough again that you think you have to do that.”

“And you can guarantee this?” My eyebrow rose to accent the cynicism of my comment.

He didn’t back down. “I’m for sure going to try.” 

“Oh.” I wasn’t certain how to respond to that so I didn’t.

“Okay, cards on the table here, Blair. I know we hardly know each other but from the first time I saw you I knew you were going to be important to me.” He looked away a frown creasing his forehead. “When I thought you were the killer it hit me hard, real hard.”

I was still uncertain what to say, I mean what can you say when you realize the man you’ve fallen hard for admits that all you are to him is ‘important’. Like you’re some new friend that he’s trying to decide what to do with. Where to pigeonhole you in his life without upsetting the apple cart.

(41) I am what I am

~Blair~

“What happened then Blair?” Jack asked.

“I don’t remember. Well, a bit I remember now, but I didn’t then. I panicked. It reminded me of being tied up by my stepfather before he’d…he’d…”

“We’re going to stop now,” Quinn said firmly as he put his arm around me.

“No, please, I can do this. I have to. If I don’t tell you now I don’t know if I ever can.”

“It’s up to you, Blair. I think we know what happened with the two men that were killed last, or can figure it out, except for why you were in that part of town in the first place.”

I smiled wanly. “After what happened with Doctor Freer and then that man all on the same day, I had the most horrible nightmare I’d ever had the next night.” I turned to look at Quinn and saw the sympathy in his eyes and was afraid I’d loose it again so I hurried on. “I knew I couldn’t sleep but I didn’t want to go to a club again, so I just walked and walked and then these to punks showed up and they were going to assault me and I had my mace and I sprayed them and ran, and ran.”

“You’re stepfather must have been keeping very close tabs on you,” Jack said as he closed his notebook. He looked at Quinn, frowning. “I suspect you were real lucky he didn’t come after you next.”

“He might have, if Blair hadn’t run,” Quinn told him. He turned to me. “Somehow he lost you when you did that, probably because he didn’t expect it.”

“Or maybe he didn’t even know I had, if he had to get back home because of his job.”

Jack nodded. “That makes sense. All the murders happened on Friday and Saturday. If he flew here because somehow he’d finally located you, maybe followed you intending to bring you back home with him when he found a safe place to grab you, and saw what happened with the doctor. He could have misread that.”

“He…he said he killed them to show me I belonged to him and no one else.” I stared down at my hands. “I didn’t even know. He was killing them and I didn’t even know it was happening.”

“I’m sure he’d have told you in great detail once he was finished ‘punishing’ you,” Quinn growled angrily.

“I have not doubt of that,” Jack agreed. “All right, Blair, unless there’s anything else you want us to know about I think it’s time for Quinn to take you home, or maybe out for a good stiff drink.” He chuckled when Quinn shot him a look of surprise. “So I’m not blind, I can tell you…Okay, maybe I’d better start typing up my notes before I stick my foot in my mouth any deeper. Now get out of here.”

Quinn smiled as he stood up, waiting for me as I put on my jacket. Then we did as Jack suggested—went out for a good stiff drink.

(40) I am what I am

~Blair~

“I don’t know if I can do this.” I know I must have looked panicked as I glanced between Quinn and Jack.

We, Quinn and I, had been back for a week. Bonnie had insisted I stay with her in my old room despite the fact that she now knows I’m male. As I had nowhere else to go I said I would, but only until I found a place of my own. I was also back working at the diner and of course Quinn had his job to do. It never ended he told me in a moment of frustration, when he’d had to cancel our first, well date I guess, because of a new case. A date, a real, honest to God date. Something I’d never done before. Well, I can wait. I will wait. Because it will be worth it when it actually happens.

Anyway, he said he had to wrap up the files on the murders my stepfather had committed and that meant he and his partner needed to know the extent of my involvement.

Which led to my sitting across the desk from them in one of the interrogation rooms at the station house Quinn worked out of.

Quinn laid his hand over mine for a moment. Then I guess he realized where he was because he quickly moved it away as he said, “The first man, the one from the club, he picked you up?”

I closed my eyes and nodded. “I was, well maybe we should start with Doctor Freer, because that’s where it all began I think.”

“All right,” Jack said and I knew he was taking notes.

“I went for a session. I was going to tell him it was the last one. I didn’t get the chance to. He kept; he wanted me to describe what I thought my first sexual experience would be like, in detail, because he thought I was a virgin. He kept pushing and pushing and touching me and finally I got so angry I began yelling at him. He made a grab for me and tore my blouse. Not here,” I touched my chest, “just the sleeve but that was enough. I grabbed my things and ran. When I got back to Bonnie’s—well I glanced in the mirror and I looked like someone had tried to assault me and I guess that’s what he did.”

“You’re stepfather must have been following you by that time. if he knew, or thought he knew, what had happened,” Quinn pointed out.

“I…yes I suppose so since he killed him. Anyway, Bonnie and I went out to supper like we sometimes did so we didn’t have to cook, but that didn’t really help. I was still so tense I had to go somewhere so that I could unwind. And as me, not, well you know. Not after that creep tried what he did.”

This time, when Quinn took my hand because I was shaking so badly, he didn’t let it go. “And that’s where you met Mr. Ward,” he said softly.

“Yes,” I whispered. “He was nice, sort of I guess. Nice enough that when he made it clear he wanted me, I went along with it. When we got to that apartment and he told me that he liked to be restrained and…and I did it, restrained him…” I shook my head, looking down at my hand entwined in Quinn’s, trying to breathe.

Guardian Angels - If It's Fated… (9)

Tim looked down when he felt a small hand tug his and smiled at the little girl. Of all the children who came to the library, she was one of his favorites. Her name was Cherie Lewis and she was an avid reader, well above her grade level.

"Mr Tim," Cherie said, when she had his attention, "do you have 'The Secret Garden'?"

"Of course." He led her to the right shelf and took the book out, handing it to her. "How did you hear about this one?"

"Umm, Mrs Norton said our garden reminded her of the story sort of, because it's all wild and stuff."

Tim knew Mrs Norton was Cherie's nanny, since her mother was no longer around. Why? He had no idea. He just knew from what Cherie had told him that she lived with her father. Mrs Norton was there to watch her after school and when Mr Lewis had to go out of town as part of his job.

He glanced over at Mrs Norton now. She was sitting in one of the few comfortable chairs, her nose buried in whatever book she was reading. As if she felt his gaze, she looked up and smiled, the light coming in the window making her white hair look almost like a halo around her kindly face. 

Turning his attention back to Cherie, Tim asked, "Have you finished 'Where the Sidewalk Ends'?"

"Yeah. It was silly funny but good. I brought it back today." Hugging 'The Secret Garden' to her chest, she told him, "Now I'm going to find more books, so I have a lot to read this weekend."

He smiled as he watched her dash off. I remember being that excited about reading when I was her age, but for me it was a defense mechanism. For a second he frowned before pushing that to the back of his mind. He had other more pleasant things to think about, like him and Dom going museum hopping on Sunday. All two of them. He chuckled. But hey, it is something to do and with a very nice new friend. 

* * * *

"I never did get modern art," Dom said, while tilting his head, trying to make heads and tails of the painting.

Tim chuckled. "I'm not sure it's supposed to make sense. It's a"—he peered at the sign below the painting—"a kinetic abstraction."

"Whatever." Dom shrugged. "Let's go look at the American artists' gallery."

They did, which made Dom a happy man. "This"—he swept his arm around—"this is art."

"If you say so," Tim muttered.

Dom chuckled. "I just know..."

"What you like, and it doesn't count if it was done after nineteen-thirty."

Dom grinned, flipping him off, and they moved on to some of the other galleries. By the time one o'clock rolled around, they decided it was time to leave and hit up the natural history museum, after stopping for something to eat. Instead of waiting in line to be seated at one of the local restaurants, since it was both a Sunday and lunchtime, they decided on carryout from a small deli. Juggling sandwiches and coffee in gloved hands while they walked proved challenging, but they were up to the task and managed to make it to the museum without a major disaster.

"Warmth, heat," Dom muttered, once they were inside.

"I bet you're a Southerner—or a Californian," Tim said with a grin.

"Yep." Dom replied succinctly, as he took off his coat. "Where to first?" he added, hoping to deflect any more personal questions from Tim.

It must have worked because Tim replied, "Straight ahead to the dinosaurs. From there, we wander."

They were halfway through the cavernous room, staring in awe at the huge Apatosaurus, when Dom heard a child's voice call out, "Mr Tim! Mr Tim!" A girl he figured was maybe seven or eight darted into view, her curly blonde hair flying loosely around an elfin face.

"A friend of yours?" Dom asked in amusement.

"You bet." Tim held out one hand to bring her to a halt. "Dom, this is Cherie Lewis, Cherie, meet my friend, Dom."

"I thought Shari Lewis was a bit older," Dom said, grinning. He looked down at Cherie, asking, "Where's Lamb Chop?"

Cherie looked up at him, then at Tim, saying, "He's silly."

"Yeah, he is," Tim agreed.

At that moment a casually dressed, average-looking blond man came over to where they were standing. "Cherie," he admonished, "how many times have I told you not to bother strangers?"

"But Daddy, Mr Tim isn't a stranger."

"Ah, so this is the infamous librarian. Well, one of you is," he added.

"That would be me." Tim held out his hand shyly. "Tim Chandler."

"Richard Lewis," he replied, shaking Tim's hand briefly. "Cherie, we should get going."

"But, Daddy… Can't we stay a little more? I haven't seen everything yet."

Richard sighed. "All right. Half an hour and then we go home."

"Yay!" Cherie grabbed Tim's hand, pulling him toward another dinosaur exhibit. "Do you have grownup books about these?"

 "We sure do. Next time you're at the library, I'll show you where to find them."

(39) I am what I am

~ Quinn ~

A week after the death of Blair’s stepfather we were back home.

The police in Blair’s birth city were none to happy with the idea that it took a cop from out of town to deal with the beast in their midst. And they were even less happy with the fact that it was Blair that killed him, even though we both told them he did it to save our lives.

Blair spent a few hours in the emergency room while the doctors tended to the damage done to his back and thighs, coming out with several sets of stitches which were needed to close the wounds inflicted by the belt buckle. When they set him free, the police took over, interviewing us separately about what had gone down. Once they were satisfied, they let me stay with him as he told them about the murders his father had confessed to. I was able to verify the facts of his story and add the details that Blair was unaware of. Until his father had told him about them, Blair had not known about the deaths of Doctor Freer and the two punks who had tried to assault him. He accepted the information stoically but I knew that he was taking it all to heart and believed that he was partially responsible for what his stepfather had done.

I intended to disabuse him of that idea if it took the rest of our lives together—assuming of course that we would have a life together. That discussion was yet to come and I wasn’t going to press for it until I knew he was ready.

We stayed for the funeral only because it gave Blair the final closure he needed. And then we headed home.

When we arrived back in the city, Blair was on tenterhooks as the cab dropped us off at the diner. He knew, because I’d told him, that Bonnie was now aware of who, or I guess what he really was, and he was scared stiff that she wouldn’t accept him now.

I kept my arm around his shoulders as we walked through the door, feeling his tension. Bonnie turned from the customer she was waiting on see who had come in. It took her two seconds to cross the room and sweep Blair into a huge hug. I could see him git his teeth even as his face lit up. She saw it too and broke away but didn’t let loose of his arms as she looked him over carefully.

“Who hurt you and did someone take care of them?” She shot me a look at the last bit and I nodded.

“I… I’ll tell you later. I mean if you…if that’s all right,” Blair stuttered out.

“Sweetie, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m just glad to have you back here and one piece. You scared me out a year’s growth when you disappeared like that?”

“Only a year?” he joked as he visibly relaxed.

“Well, okay, two years,” Bonnie admitted with a laugh. “Now both of you get over here because I doubt the nuts they serve on the plane were enough to keep even a bird alive.” She didn’t let go of Blair’s hand until he had gingerly settled down in the booth. When I leaned over to remind him to take his pills, Bonnie was gone and back in a flash with a cold glass of water. She watched and waited until he’d taken them before going back to her other customers, promising to return to take our orders, on the house, as soon as possible.

I started to slide into the seat across from him but he shook his head. Since I was fairly sure he didn’t mean that I should leave, I sat down beside him.

“She was glad to see me,” he said, and he sounded both surprised and relieved.

“Of course she was, baby, She cares about you and she really doesn’t give a damn that you turned out to be a man and not the woman she thought you were. It’s you she likes, not the external but what’s inside.”

“Which is still pretty messed up,” he confessed softly.

“But we’re going to work on that.” I wrapped my arm around him until he was pressed to my side.

He looked up at me. “Are we?”

“Yes. We are. Emphasis on the ‘we’.”

He let out a small sigh as he leaned back against my shoulder and we waited for Bonnie to come back.

(38) I am what I am

~Blair~

I heard Quinn’s voice through a haze of pain and thought I was imagining it. Then I felt a hand on my neck, touching me gently and I knew it was real.

I was just about to respond when I heard my stepfather let out a string of curses. Then Quinn’s hand left me. I felt bereft at its loss; and then terrified when the sound of fighting filled the room.

It took all my strength to move but I had to do something. I knew my stepfather. He was insane when he was angry, and being interrupted while he was punishing me would have had him seeing red. Biting down against the flaring pain I grabbed the bedpost and stood. They were fighting tooth and nail and there was nothing I could do to stop my stepfather unless I could find something to use as a weapon. Then I saw it—Quinn’s gun on the floor just inches from my feet.

I bent to pick it up and it felt as if my back was being torn apart. But I couldn’t let my stepfather win. I couldn’t. Gripping it tightly in one hand I stood just in time to see the bastard hit Quinn hard on the side of his head. Without a thought except for my need to save Quinn, I pointed the gun and fired.

Blood flew everywhere and I just about gagged as I saw the top of the bastard’s head explode as he fell backwards.

Dropping the gun, I staggered across to fall on my knees beside Quinn. His eyes were glazed at first but they cleared slowly and he looked up at me. “You did it, baby,” he murmured, lifting his hand to touch my cheek.

“We did it,” I whispered back and then the tears came.

“Oh, Blair, damn.” Quinn sat up, gathering me so gently into his arms.

I wrapped my arms around him and we stayed that way for a long time, him sitting, me still kneeling, my face buried in his shoulder as I sobbed out my relief that it was over.

Finally he got up, lifting me with him to carry me into the bathroom. As we passed my stepfather’s body I looked down at the beast who had made my life hell for so long and felt nothing but cold hatred and a strange joy. I took me a moment to understand that the joy came from knowing that at last I was free. Free to be me. 

(37) I am what I am

~ Quinn ~

“Please be here,” I prayed as I drove down the street.

All I had to go on was the address on Blair’s license and the fact that he had indeed flown into this city.

My stomach was in a knot of fear and anticipation, my hand’s white-knuckled on the steering wheel of the rental car. I was an hour or so behind him, my only advantage, the fact that he hadn’t rented a car himself. I knew this because Jack had checked while I was in the air.

If Blair wasn’t here then I didn’t know what I’d do. Another thing Jack had done for me, once I’d convinced him I needed him to stay behind, was run a search for the name Ryley. He’d come up blank which probably meant that Blair had kept his mother’s name after she’d remarried.

The house bearing the address I needed was well kept with flowerbeds under the green shuttered windows. After parking and getting out of the car, I stood looking at the front door before walking up the path to the porch. I couldn’t see a doorbell so I raised my hand to knock.

A scream rang out, shattering the calm with its pain and terror.

I didn’t give it a second thought as I drew my gun. Was I licensed to carry in this state? No. Did I have the authority of my badge behind me here? No. Did I give a damn at that moment? Hell no!  I tried the door and unbelievably it opened.

As I entered the house I heard a loud, angry voice coming from the second floor.

“You shut up boy! You know better. You don’t make a sound unless I tell you to.”

I raced up the stairs to the sound of leather striking flesh. A muffled sob came from an open doorway to my left.

As I burst into the room a heavy-set, burly, half-naked man spun around to look at me.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” he shouted before he saw the gun in my hand.

I didn’t answer as I strode across the room to the bed. One look and I was kneeling beside Blair, my gun still trained on the bastard who had done this to him. There were vicious welts across his back and thighs both from a belt and its buckle. I was afraid to touch him to say the least of move him. Resting my free hand on the back of his neck I squeezed it gently as I whispered, “I’m here now. You’re safe.”

The bastard who had done this took advantage of my momentary inattention to kick out at me. If he hadn’t accompanied that with a string of swear words I might have gone down. As it was, I moved just enough that his blow hit my gun hand. The pistol went flying and he tackled me. Now I’m not flyweight but this man was big and heavy. And he had panic on his side to counter my anger. As we wrestled, each one of us trying to subdue the other, I ended up on the loosing side of the battle. He brought one meaty fist down on my temple and the light dimmed.

Then a shot rang out.

(36) I am what I am

~Blair~

The door swung open and my demon stood there. A look of surprise crossed his face, and then a lewd, knowing grin as without a word he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, slamming the door closed behind us.

“So you finally realized you belong here with me, boy. It took you long enough,” he growled, gripping my other arm as his eyes raked over me.

I didn’t try to pull away. I knew what would happen if I did. Instead I looked up at my stepfather’s brutal face and shook my head. “I don’t belong here. I came to…to…” I couldn’t help it, I started to stutter. I always did when I tried to tell him something I knew would make him mad. I willed myself to continue. “I came to tell you that you’re to stay out of my life from now on or else.” The words spilled out in a rush.

“Or else what, boy?” His anger and dark amusement were written on his face and in way his hands tightened even farther on my arms. “Going to set the cops on me like the last time? You’ll notice I’m still here. They believed me when I told them you were crazy and that that’s why you’d run away. A crazy little fag who hated me for trying to straighten you up. Spreading malicious lies about me.”

Before I could say another word he backhanded me so hard I saw stars. Then he dragged me towards the stairs. “We have a lot of time to make up for, boy. You cost me a lot, making me search for you and then vanishing before I caught you.”

As he continued to drag me along, not caring that I was barely able to walk, he continued his rant. “I finally decided it was time to show you that you belonged to me and no one else. Not that fool doctor, not that man you let pick you up at that rancid fag club, not the boys you came on to on the street that night. You’re mine boy. So I did what any loving father would do, I eliminated them. Sent a message too. Did you like that one, boy? Shoving their cocks up their asses. Fucking sex fiends thinking they could have my boy.”

Wave after wave of horror rolled over me as I listened to him. “You…you…” I was shaking so hard, was so afraid, I couldn’t get the words out.

“I killed them, of course I did.”

We were at his bedroom door then. He threw it open and hauled me across the room to his bed. Then he grabbed my hair in one hand and the back of my neck with the other. “Strip,” he ordered. “And then we’ll get down to the business of making sure you remember that you’re mine.”

I did strip. It was as if I was his sex toy again, obeying his every order because I was terrified of what would happen if I didn’t. When I was standing naked in front of him he shoved me face down onto the bed, holding me there with one hand pressed onto my back. I heard the sound of his belt as he removed it, and then the snick of his zipper going down and his pants hitting the floor.

And I screamed.

Guardian Angels - If It's Fated… (8)

A bit louder, Tim said, "I'm just not anyone people want to get to know. I'm not handsome or outgoing or… or anything. I'm a waste of space."

"Tim," Dom replied firmly, "that's not true."

"How would you know? You only just met me," Tim spat out angrily.

"First"—Dom lifted one finger—"you're sort of cute. Yeah, not handsome, but then half the people in the world—okay, eighty percent—aren't. Secondly"—he raised a second finger—"not everyone is gregarious. There's something to be said for people who listen rather than talk your ear off. And thirdly, no one—no one—is ever a waste of space. Everyone has something to contribute to the world."

"Like what? I mean, like what do I contribute? I spend my days shelving books and helping people find the ones they want. How does that contribute?" Tim finally took a drink of beer then stared at the bottle, as if it was going to answer him.

"You said it yourself. You help kids realize books can be as much fun—or more—than television or a video game. That's not a bad thing."

Tim snorted softly. "It's hardly world changing either, at the end of the day."

"Which brings up another point. What do you do at the end of the day?"

"Go home."

"You never go out and do something? What about on your days off?"

"I'm not a doer."

"Why not?"

"It's safer. I don't like being looked down on or ignored."

"Hell, no one does, but that can only happen if you let it."

"Like you'd know. Look at you. I bet no one ever treated you like you were less than dirt."

Dom smiled ruefully. "You might be surprised."

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe someday I'll tell you what I mean, but not now. Now we're going to finish our beers, have another one, and stop being so damned serious."

"You started it," Tim said a bit petulantly.

Dom grinned. "Then it's my choice to finish it. So, tell me a bit about yourself. Do you like sports?"

"No."

"Movies?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"Musicals." Tim gave a mocking laugh. "Doesn't that go with the territory?"

Dom grinned. "So they say, but I like them too, and I'm not gay."

"Yeah, I figured." Tim smiled wistfully. "Would have been nice if you were. Okay, that was stupid. Even if you were, you sure wouldn't…"

"Tim," Dom said, gripping his shoulder, "will you stop trying to put yourself down? I think we already established I'm not going to buy into that. I want us to be friends, if that's all right with you. So far, I've liked hanging around with you. Besides which, since I'm new in town, I need a tour guide and I'm nominating you." When Tim looked at him in disbelief, Dom nodded. "When's your next day off?"

"Sunday? I mean… yeah, Sunday."

"Do you have any plans?"

Tim just rolled his eyes.

"Good. We'll… visit the museums."

"All two of them?"

"Yep. You okay with that."

Tim gave a brief nod.

"Great." Dom finished his beer and as promised, flagged down the bartender to order another. Then he realized Tim had barely touched the one he had. "Do you want something else?" he asked, tapping the bottle.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Tim laughed. "Yeah—a million dollars, a hot man, a penthouse apartment in the best highrise in the city. How's that for starters?"

"Wow, when you dream, you dream big. What about… hmm… a trip around the world in your own personal yacht and a private island for those times when you get bored with the high life?"

Tim grinned. "I could deal. Won't happen unless I win the lottery, but yeah, I could handle that. For now, though, I'm going to be a drag and say I'm ready to leave."

"Not a problem, since we both have to work tomorrow."

As soon as they were outside, Tim said, "That was actually… I had…"

"Fun? A good time?"

"Yes. I know all we did was talk but still…"

"There are times when, not to be clichéd, just being with a friend is all it takes to enjoy yourself, so we'll have to do this more often, starting with Sunday."

"You do realize when I said there were only two museums, I meant it. The art museum and the natural history one. This isn't a big city, by any means."

"Dinosaurs?"

"You know it. Well, bones mainly, but…"

They continued talking about what they'd be seeing until they reached the apartment building. Then they split up when they got to Tim's floor, with Tim thanking Dom for an enjoyable evening before getting off the elevator.

Dom watched him walk away before the elevator door closed.

There's a definite spring in his step that wasn't there a couple of hours ago. Now I just have to do something to make certain he doesn't lose it again.