Fear - 27

"I know. Been there, done that, as they say," Gene replied. "I finally had enough, though, and left him again. That time it took. He begged; he pleaded with me. He even threatened me, but I stood my ground. Eventually he gave up and moved on."

"To someone new he could… control?"

"I don't know. I never tried to find out. All I cared about was that I was free of him."

"I'll never be free of Jared," Shawn whispered. "He'll be back. As soon as I leave here, he'll come looking for me. He needs me."

Gene wanted to shake him and say 'He doesn't need you. Not the way you want him to'. It took all his willpower not to state that. "If it happens…" he said instead, "if he does show up, you have to decide if you need him or if you want a life that's not filled with fear of what will happen the next time he doesn't approve of something you do or someone you know."

"I…guess."

Gene squeezed Shawn's arm. "You know. You just have to face it."

"Will you…? If I decide to…? Can you call Mr. Spitzer?"

"I said I would."

"Thank you." Shawn closed his eyes. "I think… I'm tired now."

Gene chuckled. "I'm not surprised. Go to sleep. I'll call Max and let you know in the morning what he said."

"Make him say yes," Shawn murmured.

"I don't think there'll be any problem with that."

"Go…od…"

* * * *

"What about Jared?" Max said when Gene finished explaining why he'd called.

"No one's seen him and so far he hasn't tried to contact Shawn, for what that's worth."

"Do you think he'll try to, if he figures out Shawn might have come back here?"

"It's possible. I know somewhere deep inside, Shawn's hoping he will."

"Damn it! Hasn't the kid learned his lesson yet?" Gene could hear Max's angry sigh over the phone.

"I'd say he's working in that direction. Whether it takes is something else again."

"I'll tell you one thing," Max growled. "If the bastard shows up at the garage, he'll wish to hell he hadn't." He tempered his tone, asking, "Where's Shawn going to stay if he does come back? It can't be at the motel. That's the first, or second, place Jared would look for him."

"I agree. You don't happen to know of anyone who has a spare room to rent, do you?"

"No more than you probably do but I'll ask around. Push comes to shove he can stay with me and the wife. We've got Donny's room which is vacant since he went off to college. I don't think he'd mind if we let Shawn use it until he can find a place of his own."

"That would be perfect," Gene said enthusiastically. He knew Shawn would be safe there. Hell, Max would probably shoot first and ask questions later if Jared so much as set a foot on his property.

"Okay, I'll talk to Linda and if she's all right with it—and Donny too. Shawn's got a place to stay."

Fear - 26

"Anyway, back to what I was going to tell you," Gene said. "I fell for this guy and we got into a relationship. I'd just graduated college and was in my first year of med school. I should have known what was happening, probably did in some part of my mind. He was very controlling. Too controlling. At first I put it down to his wanting me all to himself, which of course he did, but not in a healthy way." Gene paused, his thoughts going back to that time and the man. "Not at all healthy," he said quietly.

Shawn asked tentatively, "Did he… beat on you?"

"A few times. Then he stopped when I walked away from the relationship. Of course, being in school, I couldn't go far. I couldn't leave the city. He showed up at the university one afternoon a few weeks later, begging me to talk to him. Begging me to take him back, full of remorse and promises. Against my better judgment I did, because I thought we could make it work. He never hit me again. His abuse became mental and emotional instead. It took me a while to realize he'd fallen back into the same patterns as before."

"So you picked up and left again."

Gene shook his head. "I should have, but what he was doing was insidious. He had me believing he was the only person who knew what was good for me. That without him I'd fail, as a man, as a doctor, as… anything. And I believed him because I thought he loved me and was doing what he thought was best for me."

"Like Jared," Shawn whispered.

"I suspect so. Abusers need to be in control. They need to feel powerful so they find someone who allows that. It makes them feel worthwhile."

"But he does love me. He said so. All the time. He said he was only doing… doing…"

"Doing what was best for you, punishing you when you 'deserved' it, keeping you away from anyone who might try to separate the two of you—which was everyone—because he couldn't live without you." Gene looked at Shawn, wanting to wipe away the mournful look on his face but not knowing quite how to. "He meant it, Shawn. In his own mind that's exactly how Jared felt—that he was doing what was best for you—for the both of you."

Shawn sighed, chewing the corner of his lip, but remained silent, looking back at Gene with a mixture of anger and sadness.

Gene touched his arm again, putting his hand on it when Shawn didn't pull away. "What you have to decide is, is life with him the best thing for you?"

"If he loves me…"

"That's the thing, Shawn. If. I finally realized the guy I was with didn't love me. He loved the control; he loved making me totally dependent on him for everything. He hated that I insisted on staying in school to earn my degree but that was the one thing I wouldn't allow him to take away."

"Like me and working," Shawn replied, frowning. "Jared hated that, but we needed the money when he lost his job. Then he got the one here and…"

"You wouldn't quit the garage?"

"No. I liked working there."

Gene smiled. "So for once you stood up to him."

With a nod, Shawn said, "For once, and that's when things got worse."

Fear - 25

He's beginning to relax with me. Gene considered that as he promised he'd bring Shawn the picture. But so what? It doesn't mean he's willing to give up hope that Jared's going to come back, sweep him into his arms, and take him away to some place where they can live happily ever after

He went back to his book while Shawn picked up the second magazine to go through. Then Gene said, trying to sound casual, "Are you going to find another mechanic's job when they spring you from here?"

Shawn looked up, frowning. "I haven't thought about it. Maybe. I guess I'll need a job, won't I? At least until…" He sighed.

Gene wanted to tell him Jared was gone for good, which he prayed was the case. But he knew Shawn wouldn't believe him. Instead, he nodded. "I bet Mr. Spitzer would hire you back in a heartbeat."

"You think so?" Shawn's face lit up. "He was a good boss. I liked him."

"I'm sure he would. I can call him tonight to let him know you're interested."

"I… yeah, sure. At least it's somewhere Jared knows if he comes looking for me. I mean when he…"

Taking a deep breath, Gene said, "Do you want him to, after what he did?"

"He was just drunk and angry. He's over that now. He has to be." Shawn looked down at his hands, his face a study in hope and fear. "Doesn't he?"

"He probably is, for now. Until the next time you do something he doesn't like," Gene replied, gently resting his hand on Shawn's arm. When Shawn started to pull away Gene let him. Then, quietly, he said, "Look at me, Shawn."

"No, because you're going to say things I don't want to hear." He shut his eyes as if to ward off anything Gene might say.

"True. But you need to hear them anyway. I'm not going to lecture you. I think you've had more than enough of that from me and a lot of other people. I'm just going to tell you a story."

"About what?"

"About me, and how I finally figured out that abuse does not equal love, no matter how you might feel about the abuser—or think he feels about you."

Shawn's eyes flew open. "You?"

"Yes, me. I was a bit younger than you are now and I fell for a guy, hard."

"Wait a minute. You're gay?"

Gene chuckled. "I am. Always have been, always will be—though I don't go around announcing it to everyone I know or, truth be told, to anyone unless they ask."

"Holy shit. Okay."

Fear - 24

The next few days passed in a haze of medications, sleep, and at one point, more questions from Detective Rawlins. Questions Shawn couldn't, or wouldn't, answer. The detective wanted to know who Jared's friends were, where his family was. Did he have any place he was likely to go to lie low for a while.

He also wanted to know how to contact Shawn's family to let them know what had happened. The doctor had asked him that, too, soon after Shawn had regained consciousness the first time. He didn't tell any of them. He lied and said his parents were dead and for him, they might as well have been. They didn't want their strange son who wouldn't conform to their rules and their beliefs. They had three other sons who did and had made them proud parents and grandparents. So when he was eighteen, he'd packed up and walked away, leaving that life behind, making a new one for himself.

When he was twenty-one, he met Jared and fell in love.

And Jared loves me back. He does!

That thought kept circling through his mind as his body healed. None of the questions from the detective could make him think differently.

Gene however…

Gene always seemed to be there. Sometimes he was sitting by the bed, reading a book or watching the omnipresent television. Other times he came into the room soon after the doctors and nurses left. But he was always there.

At first Shawn patently ignored him, turning his face away, pretending to sleep. When that didn't work, he stated flatly that Gene could go home any time because he didn't need him there. Gene had just smiled and gone back to his book, pausing now and then to adjust Shawn's pillow or turn the channel to some program he apparently thought Shawn might prefer.

By the third day, Shawn began to like Gene's presence in the room, although he was loath to admit it out loud. Instead he asked, "What's the book about?"

Gene looked up and chuckled. "Nothing special, unless you're into a good mystery and a lot of action." He showed Shawn the cover, as if he hadn't been able to see it from where he was lying. "She writes well and keeps your attention. If you want, I can bring you a couple."

"I'm not much of a reader," Shawn admitted. "Jared thought…" He bit down on his lip. "He thought books were a waste of time when we had the television to entertain us."

"Some people are like that," Gene agreed. "Still, if you'd like, I can pick up something for you to read. A magazine or two maybe? I don't know much about cars but I've seen auto magazines in the grocery store."

"You'd do that?" Shawn asked in surprise.

"Sure."

And Gene did, coming back that afternoon with three magazines, which he laid on the table by the bed. "Hope these are okay."

Shawn took the top one, thumbing through it, and nodded. Soon he was deep into an article about new refinements to a race car engine. "I'd love to get my hands on one of these," he said at one point.

"A car?"

"No, this." Shawn showed him a schematic of a turbocharger.

Gene shook his head and grinned. "That means about as much to me as… as an anatomical illustration of the pancreas would probably mean to you."

"Okay, look. See this?" Shawn started to explain about engines and what the turbocharger did and much to his surprise, Gene paid attention and asked questions. When he was finished, Shawn almost laughed, saying, "Now you have to bring me a picture of a pancreas, whatever that is."

Fear - 23

"I deserved it. He was angry because…" Shawn looked at Gene. "Because of you. He didn't mean to hurt me. He just wanted me to understand I wasn't to be with anyone but him and… and he'd been drinking… and…" The tears he'd been holding back burst loose, rolling down the sides of his face. He tried to wipe them away but something pulled at his hand. He tugged and Gene stopped him.

"You'll pull out the IVs, Shawn," he cautioned before taking a tissue from the box on table by the bed, wiping away the tears.

"Where is he? Why isn't he here?"

"Jared Lewis?" the detective asked.

"Yes. Please go get him. Please."

"We haven't been able to find him, Shawn. Do you know where he might have gone?"

Shawn felt confused by the question. Of course he knew where Jared was. At the trailer. He said as much. "He's probably waiting for me to come home and fix his supper."

The detective leaned toward Gene, saying something quietly so Shawn couldn't hear it. Gene nodded and the detective stood. "I'll be back later, Shawn, after you've had a chance to rest again."

Shawn gave the barest nod, suddenly feeling unbearably tired and alone. He heard the detective leave then realized Gene was still there. "Go away," he said in an angry whisper. "Go away. This is your fault. All of it. Just…go away."

* * * *

For a brief moment Gene was tempted to do as Shawn asked. Then he shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere other than back to the lounge so you can sleep." Impulsively he brushed a tangled strand of Shawn's dark hair off his face. "We'll talk later."

"I don't want to talk."

"I know. Right now it's the last thing you want to do but when you change your mind, I'll be here. I promise."

Shawn opened his eyes to look at Gene. "Why?"

"Because you need a friend and I've elected myself to be just that." His lips tilted up in a small grin. "Whether you like it or not."

Shawn gave the barest of nods as his eyelids drifted closed. "I don't."

"I know. But in time…" Gene smiled when he saw Shawn was asleep. "In time, I hope you will."

Standing, he left the room.

Fear - 22

Shawn was moved out of the ICU to a private room two days after the beating.

Gene had called home, setting it up with the doctor handling his patients to keep seeing them for at least another week. The doctor had protested until Gene told him what was happening. Then he offered to take over indefinitely until Gene was ready to come back.

Now Gene sat in the lounge waiting to hear if Shawn had awakened. Doctor Schwartz had let the nurses know that Gene was to be allowed to visit Shawn when he wished. He planned to take full advantage of that, wanting to be there so Shawn would know there was someone who cared. From what he'd been told, Shawn had arrived at the hospital with no wallet and no other ID on him, and the police had found nothing at the trailer, when they finally located it, to indicate what family members he might have that they could get in touch with.

As Gene thumbed through a well-worn magazine, he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up he saw one of the nurses coming his way. She stopped, smiled, and said, "He's awake. Very groggy, but awake. Doctor Schwartz had already been and gone and said it was all right for you to visit him. He thought it might be a good idea for you to be there when the police talked to Shawn as well."

"Thank you." Gene hurried down the hallway to Shawn's room, stopping when he got to the door to ask if he could come in.

Shawn nodded slightly, even though he seemed surprised to see him there. When Gene got to the side of the bed, Shawn asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you here? Where's Jared?"

Gene sat down in the chair beside him, replying, "I'm here because I thought you might need a friend. As for Jared, at this point, no one knows where he is."

* * * *

"But…" Shawn closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears that were suddenly burning behind his lids from flowing. "He wouldn't go off and leave me."

He opened them again when he heard a man say, "I'm Detective Rawlins," obviously introducing himself to Gene. The detective pulled up another chair, repeating his introduction to Shawn, adding, "Are you up to talking for a few minutes?"

"I… guess. About what?"

"About what happened to you."

"I fell… tripped over a chair and… and…" Shawn frowned. "Hit my head?"

"No, Shawn," Gene said softly, "that's not what happened."

"It is! It's always that way. I'm a klutz and… and I run into things."

"Mr. Mathews," the detective said firmly, "I think you know that's not the case. For whatever reason your friend—or boyfriend, I gather—beat you up. Very badly in point of fact."

Fear - 21

"Doctor Collins, he's not going to get any better because you're standing there staring at him," one of the nurses said, gently resting her hand on Gene's shoulder. "And it won't do him any good if you collapse from fatigue. Go home, get some sleep. I promise we'll call you if there's any change."

Gene scrubbed his face with one hand, realized he was beyond exhausted, and nodded. He gave her his phone number and made his way slowly to the elevator, trying unsuccessfully not to yawn while he waited for it to appear.

Moments later, he was stepping off into the lobby. Just ahead of him at the reception desk, he saw two police officers, one of them the one he'd talked to what seemed like hours ago. He realized belatedly, as he checked the time, that it had been. The officer turned, saw him, and came over.

"We found out where Mr. Mathews and his friend were living. You were right. It was a trailer, in a trailer park not too far from the gas station where Mr. Mathews was dumped. The place was pretty well torn apart, partly we presume from the beating Mr. Mathews endured, partly because Mr. Lewis made a very hurried exit afterward, taking his belongings with him."

"He probably thought he'd killed Shawn and ran," Gene said angrily.

"I agree. There was a trail of blood leading from the interior out to where, from the oil stains on the ground, Mr. Lewis had parked his truck. Best guess is he took Mr. Mathews to the gas station and left him there then returned long enough to grab his things and run."

"Have you caught him yet?"

"No. We know the make and model of his truck, thanks to the fact he often gassed up at the same gas station where he left Mr. Mathews, so we have an APB out for it. The problem is, once he got onto the main highway, there's plenty of places he could have gone and lots of spots where he could have pulled off, dumped the truck, and taken off into the wilderness."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll run into a hungry bear," Gene growled.

The officer smiled tightly. "If we're lucky."

"What if he decides to come back for Shawn? He's done that before, although as far as I know up until now he's never hurt him badly enough that Shawn's ended up in the hospital."

"As you know, we have an officer in the ICU so Mr. Mathews is safe. Besides which Mr. Lewis would have to be insane to try something like that."

Gene arched an eyebrow. "I think he's already pretty much proved he's not sanest man around."

"True. Okay, I have to get going. If I were you—"

"You'd go home and get some sleep." Gene chuckled tiredly. "Which I'm planning on doing."

Fear - 20

The first thing Gene did when he got off the elevator was look for Jared, very glad to see he wasn't there. Of course, he thought seconds later, if Jared had been there, the authorities would know who Shawn was, if it is him. Still, as angry as he was at the moment, Gene knew he'd have laid into Jared verbally and physically if he'd been there.

The officer must have seen something in Gene's expression because he said, "We're doing all we can to locate the bastard who did this, but first we have to find out who the kid is, so let's hope you do know him." Turning to one of the nurses, he asked if it was all right to take Gene down to the room.

The nurse nodded. "You'll be able to see him through the window but you can't go inside."

"I know," Gene said with a small smile. "I'm a doctor."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise—he figured probably because he was wearing a worn pair of jeans and his very bleached out flannel shirt since he'd been planning on going hiking before he'd heard the news report.

The office led the way down the hall, stopping by the room's window, looking inquiringly at Gene.

Gene's breath hissed in. "His name is Shawn Mathews. He lives with one Jared Lewis, a construction worker. I'm not sure where, other than they have a trailer from what Shawn told me yesterday."

The officer thanked him before hurrying off, already on his two-way, relaying the information.

"God, Shawn…" Gene murmured, turning his gaze back to the young man. One eye was swollen shut, the only facial damage Gene could see. He was on a ventilator and there were chest tubes, IVs, a heart monitor, and a pulse oximeter clipped to one finger, as well as a foley catheter bag hanging on the bed. There was barely an inch of his chest that wasn't bruised and Gene had the feeling there was more damage hidden under the sheet, which was drawn up to his waist.

As he stood there, he became aware of someone beside him and turned to look.

"He should survive," the man said after introducing himself as Dr Schwartz. "We've met before"—the doctor studied Gene then nodded—"at a medical conference. You're Doctor Collins, if I remember correctly."

"I am. And I remember you. You sat next to me during a lecture on trauma case studies."

"That would be me." He chuckled. "You weren't overly impressed with the speaker, if I remember correctly." Then his mouth tightened as he looked at Shawn again. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, HIPPA and all, but—he sustained internal damage, of course, and indications are this wasn't the first time someone had beaten him. He's getting the best care we can provide but to be honest what happens next is up to him." The doctor tapped his forehead. "He has to want to get better."

Gene nodded. He was well aware that a patient's mind played into his ability to heal. If Shawn gave up, for whatever reason, that could be the end of it. "He was in a very abusive relationship," he said softly. "He thought… he said it had gotten better—that his lover hadn't hit him for quite a long time. I'd debate that since he was already in pain yesterday from what I can only presume were fractured or broken ribs."

"Hard to tell at this point which, since two were broken when the EMTs brought him in." Doctor Schwartz shook his head. "I'll never understand the dynamics of that kind of relationship."

"For the abused, need, love—if you can call it that—fear, hope, isolation, and too many other reasons to enumerate." Gene sighed. "For the abuser, it makes them feel powerful and in control, especially if they have deep-seated feelings of inadequacy. They may have been abused themselves and so they see what they're doing as something normal and… and enough of the whys. I'm sure you know them all."

"I do, but I still don't get it." With that said, the doctor walked away, shaking his head again.

I don't either, but it happens, too much, to too many of us, somewhere along the line.

Resting his forehead against the window, Gene continued to watch Shawn, praying he'd live. Praying he wanted to.

It's release day for 'A Haunting of Ghosts'!

A Haunting of Ghosts

Book 4 of the 'Ghostly Investigations' Series

https://www.jms-books.com/romance-c-29_105/a-haunting-of-ghosts-p-2778.html

 

 GENRE: Gay Paranormal Mystery Romance
LENGTH: 24,178 words
RATING:

Sequel to Dead and Hating It

When Van and Gene, partners in life as well as in their writing, are murdered in what looks like a drive-by shooting, it's up to Mike and Sage, as well as their four ghostie friends, to discover who was responsible.

Van and Gene had been researching two cold cases for their newest book at the time of their deaths. One was eleven years old, with three potential suspects for a girl's murder. The other was more recent, involving the death of Jon Watts, one of their ghostie friends.

Can Mike, Sage, and the ghosts learn who killed Van and Gene so they can move on? And, more to the point, can Van and Gene help the others solve Jon's murder? If they do, will Jon and his lover Brody finally move on, or will they remain with their friends, both ghost and human?

EXCERPT:

At that moment the doorbell rang. Sage went to answer, figuring it had to be Mike, which it was. He took him into the living room, introducing him to Gene and Van before telling him the armchair opposite the sofa was free. Then, although he was certain that Van and Gene had already figured it out, he explained that he would repeat anything they had to say to Mike.

"So who is where?" Mike asked.

"Brody and Jon are there." Sage pointed to two chairs they'd brought into the living room while he'd been answering the door. "Van's to your left on the sofa, Gene is to your right."

Mike nodded to them. "Shall we start with the obvious question? Do you know who shot you?"

"Like we told them," Van replied, "we have no idea. We don't have any enemies. Well, other than a few trolls on book sites who don't like what we write. I don't think they'd come gunning for us."

While Sage relayed his reply, Jon said, "You're authors? I don't think I've heard of you."

"Oh the pain," Van said, clutching his chest. Then he laughed. "We write under the pen name V.G. Ackton."

"That's you? Wow. I've read some of your mysteries. They're pretty good."

"Thanks."

Again, Sage let Mike know what was being said. Mike replied, "I doubt any of your readers would decide you needed to die, but what about someone you spotlighted as a possible suspect in your Who Killed ...? books?"

Van glanced at Gene before replying, "I suppose it's a possibility, although we don't say outright we think so-and-so is the killer. We just lay out the events and the people involved in each of the cases. It's up to the readers to draw their own conclusions."

"But you do your best to point your finger at specific individuals?" Sage asked before telling Mike what Van had said.

"These are cold cases," Gene replied. "Some of them as much as forty or fifty years old. We do our research, meet with those people who are willing to talk with us, as well as the officers involved, and do more research to try to verify everything we've been told. Then we lay out the reasons one or more persons might have had a good reason to eliminate the victim, based on what we've learned. In a way it's like a chess game. Move the right piece to the right square and you could reach mate or checkmate -- or not if some piece of information is missing and you can only deduce what it is from what you've learned."

"As I said, we don't name names." Van smiled dryly. "We're not into getting our asses sued for defamation of character." He blew out a long breath. "Well, we weren't. Now, it's a moot point since there won't be another book."

Sage had relayed the conversation as Gene and Van talked. When he'd finished, Mike asked, "Were you in the process of writing a third book before you were killed?"

"Yes," Van replied. "We had two cases we had just begun researching."

"Who were the victims?" Sage asked.

"One was an eighteen-year-old woman named Irene Gibbs, who seemed to be fleeing her killer in her car when she was shot dead after she crashed it into a tree. The other was a young man who was attacked in the parking lot of his apartment building by person or persons unknown. He died on the scene and so far the police haven't found any leads to who killed him or why."

Jon hissed in a breath. "Who was he?"

"Jonathan Calvin Watts. He was a waiter ..." Van stopped, looking at Jon's stricken expression. "Jon as in Jonathan Watts?"

Jon nodded. "You never would have found out who killed me. God only knows Mike and Brody did their best but ... but there's no proof who it was."

"But you have some ideas?" Gene asked. "We'd only begun digging, so all we had was the very basic details on how you died and where you'd been in the few days before it happened."

"May I see what you have?" Mike asked once Sage told him what was being said.

"It's all on our laptops," Van replied before saying, "This isn't getting us anywhere on who shot me and Gene."

Sage relayed Van's words, getting a nod from Mike.

"It's early on," Mike said. "Right now, I'm looking for any information you might be able to give me, starting with exactly what happened in the moments before you were killed. All indications are it was a drive-by. What kind of car were they driving? Did you see the gun? Where was the shooter? In the front or back seat?"

 

Also available from:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07S8MMX78

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-haunting-of-ghosts-edward-kendrick/1131571766?ean=9781634869539

Fear - 19

Gene heard the scream of sirens as he was getting ready for bed and wondered idly just how bad the car wreck had been. He found out what had happened the next morning when he turned on the TV and caught the tail end of a local news story.

"—was found lying on the pavement in front of Jerry's Gas Station around eleven-thirty last night. According to the officers who arrived on the scene, the half-naked young man appeared to have been badly beaten and was probably dumped there by his attacker. He was rushed to County Hospital, unconscious and barely alive. So far the police have been unable to establish the young man's identity as he had no identification on him."

"Shawn," Gene growled, certain that's who it was, even as he realized there was no reason to think so other than a gut feeling.

He quickly finished dressing, grabbed his keys and phone from the nightstand, and dashed to his car, stopping just long enough to ask the desk clerk how to get to the hospital.

Upon arriving there, Gene stopped at the hospital's front desk to ask where he could find the beating victim he'd heard about on the news, showing her his ID to prove he was a doctor.

She shook her head. "I have no information on a beating victim, Dr Collins."

Gene's mouth tightened in frustration. He knew what she was saying, that as a victim who'd been beaten and was unidentified, the hospital would deny Shawn was even there for fear his attacker might show up to finish the job. Still… "I think I know who he is."

"Excuse me, sir."

Gene turned to see a police officer standing there. "Yes?"

"Why do think you know him?"

"If it's who I think it is, he's in a very abusive relationship. Yeah, that's not much to go on I know, but still—if I could see him."

The officer hesitated. "May I see your ID?"

Gene produced it, relieved that the officer wasn't taking what he'd said about being a doctor at face value.

After handing it back, the officer nodded. "It all seems to be in order. The young man is in the ICU now, under police guard, which is why I happened to be here and overhear you. I was just going off duty." He studied Gene again then said, "If you'll follow me, I can let you take a look at him. Right now he's listed as a John Doe. We'd like to change that."

Fear - 18

Shawn picked Jared up from work as he always did the days he had the truck. When they got home, Shawn began folding the laundry only to have Jared tell him scathingly that he was hungry and wanted his dinner first.

While Shawn prepared it, Jared went over the shopping list, checking it against what Shawn had bought. "You forgot the ice cream," he pointed out.

Shawn expected a lecture on how stupid he was for doing that. Instead Jared just frowned, telling him he'd go get some after dinner. They ate then Jared took off, promising to be back soon.

It was late, well past ten, when he returned.

Jared slammed the door to trailer open hard enough that it hit the wall—and slammed it closed again once he was inside. One look at Jared's face and Shawn began backing away, hands held defensively in front of him.

"Who the hell was the man you were with today?" Jared roared as he advanced on Shawn.

"I wasn't with any man," Shawn protested. "Honest, I wasn't."

"Not what I heard." Jared backed Shawn up against the living room wall, his breath smelling strongly of alcohol. "Talked to Mr. Allen at the grocery store. He said he saw you with a good looking guy, chatting up a storm while he helped you carry the stuff to the truck. Then I ran into Ms Darling from the Laundromat. She was quite eager to let me know the guy was in there with you, too."

The first punch landed on Shawn's shoulder, the second in his stomach. The third hit his already injured ribs and he passed out from the pain.

Fear - 17

Shawn shook his head, negating Gene's question as he replied, "I tripped coming out of the trailer and took a fall. Landed on my side on a rock and, well, you know." The words came out in a rush, his eyes not meeting Gene's concerned ones.

Very softly, after glancing around to be sure no one was within earshot, Gene said, "Did Jared hit you again?"

"No, he's not doing that now," Shawn protested. "He isn't! Honest. Things are good now." He grabbed the remaining bags Gene was holding, put them in with the others, and closed the truck door. "I gotta go now. I have to put the laundry in the dryers and… and…" He skittered away, making a dash inside the Laundromat.

He might not be hitting you but for damned sure he's abusing you other ways. Anger and disgust had Gene balling his hands into fists. He could see Shawn through the window as he moved the clothes from the washers to the dryers. He looked like a frightened animal caught in a trap with no idea how to escape. And you call what he feels for you love? Damn it, Shawn, when will you realize it's not?

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Gene went into the Laundromat. Shawn had just finished moving the last load and was heading toward the bank of plastic chairs along one wall. Gene followed, sitting down beside him.

Shawn ignored him, other than to whisper, "Go away and leave me alone."

"Have you seen a doctor about your ribs?" Gene replied, ignoring his request to go. "The way you hold yourself tells me they were probably fractured, or worse, unless the supposed fall happened this morning."

"I did fall!"

"Somehow I doubt it, but even if it's the truth you need to go get checked out."

"Why do you care?"

Gene smiled slightly. "Because I'm a doctor and it's my business to care."

"Well take your caring somewhere else," Shawn spat out. "I don't need it and I don't need you hanging around me. Please, just leave me alone." He got up, moving two seats down from Gene, a pleading look on his face.

The last thing Gene wanted was to leave him alone but then the realization hit him. He's terrified someone will see us talking and Jared will find out. Damn it, Shawn, you don't deserve this. Nobody does. Reluctantly, against his better judgment as a doctor who knew Shawn needed help and as a person who cared, Gene stood and walked away without another word. As he did, he vowed he'd figure out some way to get Shawn away from Jared. He just didn't know how.

Fear - 16

Gene thanked the woman in souvenir shop for her help, paid her for his purchases, then put them in his backpack and went out into the warm sunshine that lit the busy street. It took his eyes a moment to adjust after the dark shop. When they did, he paused, frowning.

He saw a slender young man coming out of the grocery store across the way, his arms heavily laden with plastic bags. That looks like Shawn. A second look told him it was. Shawn was juggling the bags, obviously trying to keep his hold on all of them as he turned and headed down the sidewalk.

Gene hurried across the street, coming up behind him, saying, "Looks like you could use a hand with those."

"No, no, I'm fine," Shawn told him, not turning to see who had spoken. Even as he said it, one of the bags started to slip out of his too-full hands.

Gene caught it before it fell, then said again, "Let me help you carry them, Shawn." The expression of pure panic when Shawn finally looked at him almost made Gene step away. "I'm not going to bite," he told him with a grin.

Instead of smiling at Gene's comment, Shawn looked even more fearful. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on vacation." Gene held out his hand. "Give me a couple of those before you drop them." He saw an egg carton peeking out of the top of one bag and chuckled, trying again to ease Shawn's tension by saying, "Scrambled eggs are good, but not all over the sidewalk."

That did bring a tiny smile to Shawn's lips, even as his glance darted around the area. Then, with obvious reluctance tempered with a bit of relief, he let Gene take the bag.

"Is Jared around?" Gene asked, figuring he probably wasn't since it was a weekday. He instantly knew that was the wrong thing to ask when a flash of fear crossed Shawn's face, his gaze whipping around again as if to make certain Jared wasn't anywhere in sight.

By then they were beside a truck. Shawn put two of the bags down beside it and dug into his jeans pocket for the keys. After unlocking the door, he put the other bags inside behind the seat then bent to pick up the last two. When he did, he hissed softly in apparent pain.

"Here. I'll get those," Gene told him, handing Shawn the bags he was carrying and picking up the two on the ground. "Did you do something to your ribs?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle and non-threatening.

Fear - 15

Shawn winced as he bent to tie his boots. His ribs still hurt from the beating Jared had administered after their night at the bar, although he did his best to hide it from him. It had happened before and Shawn knew they'd heal eventually.

True to his promise, Jared had stopped drinking. He'd even agreed to let Shawn drop him off at the construction site sometimes so he'd have the use of the truck to do the weekly shopping.

Things still weren't perfect though. Jared would check the odometer each time to make certain Jared hadn't gone any farther than he was supposed to and then yell at him if he thought he'd gone beyond the proscribed boundaries he'd set. He also hollered at Shawn for any perceived mistake. Not that he hadn't before, but it seemed to be getting worse, the taunts more vicious, his words meant to hurt and belittle Shawn.

But I do deserve it. Shawn concluded with certainty after one particularly angry tirade because he'd forgotten to take two pair of work jeans to the laundry that Jared had left on the floor half under the bed.

"They're right there, you stupid idiot," Jared had ranted, grabbing Shawn's arm and dragging him into the bedroom. "It's your damned job to keep the place clean and picked up. But did you? Nooo. You left them lying there instead of putting them in the laundry hamper." He'd continued ranting, laying out all Shawn's other faults but he hadn't hit him. He'd looked like he'd wanted to, but he hadn't.

And maybe soon he'll quit yelling too, if I do everything perfectly.

Shawn sighed and began searching to make certain all Jared's dirty work clothes had made it into the hamper this time. Once he was sure he hadn't missed anything, he put the hamper in the truck and went back for the shopping list Jared had left on the counter for him, checked to be sure the windows were all closed and locked, and grabbed his jacket to head into town.

He parked the truck by the Laundromat as always, put the dirty clothes in to wash, and walked up the street to the grocery store.