Haunted Heart (13 page)

Even now, Ruben could feel the tendrils of depression that had sunk their claws into his soul, tethering him to a hollow sadness and worthlessness, breaking. The darkness was receding. A light filled him, both levity and brightness. Part love, part hope.

And if he no longer felt depressed, maybe his fears would let go too.

But… first things first.

“I want to try something,” Ruben told Duncan calmly. “I don’t think it would be wise of me to jump outside and run down the steps into the woods right away to test my theory. Just in case, you know.” He chuckled to show he wasn’t worried, and a flicker of a smile lifted the corners of Duncan’s lips too. “I’m obviously not ready to tackle the idea of public places or crowds. Baby steps. But, if you’re willing to help, I’d like to try going out to the back porch or the backyard.”

That’s where the blindfold came in. During sex, Ruben had closed his eyes, for fear of coming too soon, erupting without control. That simple act had helped him relax and handle the raging sea of emotions. And that was where he had gotten the idea.

Duncan stared at the blindfold in Ruben’s hands, obviously catching on to Ruben’s plans. “With that on?”

“Yes.” Ruben nodded. “Just in case it’s the visual stimuli that triggers a panic attack. If I can’t see the sky or the wide-open space, then maybe….” He trailed off, his hope filling the silence instead. Maybe then he could handle it, like he had accepted sex.

“But you’re not sure.” Duncan dithered, with a deep frown marring his forehead.

“I have never tried anything like this, so no.” Ruben sighed. “I trust you, Duncan. I’d like to try this. With you.” The apprehensive expression Duncan sported didn’t go away, so Ruben began to think the man was going to refuse.

Then Duncan bussed Ruben’s cheek softly. “Anything you want, Ruben. I’m here for you.”

Ruben’s breath was shaky upon hearing that. But his heart remained hopeful.

Ten minutes later, after some deep breathing exercises, Ruben stood at the back door, Duncan standing behind him, comforting in his silent presence.

Ruben watched the scene he had come to know only from afar. He looked beyond the overgrown lawn where the big pine with the tire swing stood. He had been there last, swinging away, at the carefree age of twelve or thirteen. So long ago he could scarcely recall the fleeting memories.

There was undoubtedly some yard equipment hidden amid the grass and plants. Ruben had shoveled dirt around as a kid with Rose, who had been an avid gardener. He hated how he had let the place become a jungle. Not that Grandma would have blamed him for one second. He still did, though.

By the tree line, he had seen his first elk grazing and his first eagle soaring on high. He had come to know and enjoy the wildlife in the national park. As a kid, he’d hiked up the mountain many times as a Boy Scout.

Times long past, yet their memories remained within Ruben.

“You still wanna do this?” Duncan asked, concerned. “You don’t have to if—”

“If I don’t want to. Yes, I know.” Ruben shook his head. “If there’s one word I know by heart by now, it’s no.” He glanced over his shoulder, overjoyed at his lover being there to support him in his perilous venture. “Thanks for being here with me.”

Duncan leaned over and kissed Ruben on the lips. “No place on earth I’d rather be.”

The sheer love and warmth Duncan exuded gave Ruben confidence and awakened his inner courage. He turned to the familiar vista again. The back door was already open, with only the screen door between him and the outside world. “Put the blindfold on me, please.”

Duncan was infinitely gentle when he placed the black cloth over Ruben’s eyes and tied it at the back of his head. “Not too tight, is it?”

His care over Ruben’s wellbeing warmed Ruben from head to toes, confirming his own ability to face this challenge. “No. It’s perfect.” He licked his dry lips, focused on breathing, and calmed his wayward thoughts and emotions. “Please, hold my hand. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Next thing Ruben heard was Duncan shoving the screen door open until it banged lightly against the wall. Nothing stood between him and the wraparound porch.

Was it his imagination that the air smelled crisper than before? Or that sounds were less muffled, sharper now? It must have been because he often kept windows open, so fresh air was familiar to him, as were the sounds of woodpeckers or the winds carrying the fragrance of pines or the rustling of branches and foliage when storms picked up.

Duncan held both his hand and his arm, as if he were the one in need of anchoring.

That made Ruben smile, and his self-confidence built further.

He took a step forward, over the threshold. He heard the creak of wood as he moved onto the porch. Gosh, did the planks need replacing? Were they molded or cracked? The house was old, and all that Ruben knew about the condition of the house was of the interior and what he could discern through the windows. Looking down was not among his daily priorities. Did he need to hire a carpenter or a gardener?

“How does the porch look?”

For a moment it was quiet with Duncan surveying their surroundings. “Seems fine to me. No loose boards, no mold or moss that I can see, no animal droppings. A few nails sticking out. Nothing a good hammering won’t cure.”

“Are we still talking about the porch?” Ruben said in jest, longing for some levity.

And Duncan didn’t disappoint, laughing with a deep rumbling sound that reverberated inside Ruben, as though he were a finely tuned instrument and Duncan the musician who knew how to play him. “You crack me up, baby.”

Baby?
No one had ever called Ruben that. The smile that rose to his lips was a sign of his heart bouncing up and down in excitement too. “Walk me around the porch, please, and tell me what you see.”

“My pleasure, beautiful,” Duncan purred to Ruben’s ear, kissing the soft lobe, a seductive and yet soothing gesture.

Behind the blindfold, Ruben kept his eyes closed. Not that it would have mattered either way, but he didn’t want to risk any unnerving glimpses. Blind, by fabric and by choice, he followed Duncan’s lead as they walked around the house under the awning. Birds sang in the trees, the pungent smell of earth wafted to Ruben’s nose, and the wind caressed his skin. Everything told him he was definitely outside.

But… the panic remained inside, unmoving, not making so much as a peep.

“There’s an old swing for three to our left,” Duncan said, describing their environment plainly and carefully. “It’s painted green, but the paint’s flaking. It needs a new coat. I’ll get some from the local Home Depot. There are a lot of leaves everywhere too, fresh and dry. I’ll sweep them away later.”

Ruben kept smiling as they walked. He took cautious steps, making sure he didn’t wander off too far from his guide and escort. The way Duncan spoke, as if he was establishing his right to do housework at his own place, put giddy thoughts in Ruben’s head.
He likes it here. He’s beginning to see this as home. Our home
.

“Hey, you’ve got apple trees here,” Duncan called out, his voice rising with surprised enthusiasm. “My mom makes a mean apple pie. I’ll ask her for the recipe and make you one. You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Of that Ruben had zero doubts either.

“Deer have been getting at the birches close to the seaside tree line,” Duncan said with precise observation. “They’ve dug their teeth into the bark. And I think you’ve had some gophers or rabbits here recently. Gonna have to keep an eye out. Don’t want them making a home here.”

“No. Two is plenty.”

Duncan’s pleased chuckle and kiss on his cheek had Ruben beaming. “Yup. Oh, the patio furniture in the front yard needs serious cleaning. They may be plastic, but they’re white. Or used to be, anyway. I’ll bring them onto the porch. If you sit by the doorway, you can help me clean them up later, yeah?”

When Duncan acknowledged his awareness of this little excursion hardly being a fast miracle cure, Ruben knew he had found his soul mate. He had always believed in them. But he had been certain he was too tarnished and broken beyond repair to ever meet one, let alone keep one. Now Ruben had his soul mate, and with simple words Duncan was making plans for longer stays. They would be together, like a proper couple. And even if Ruben never got better, never managed to go beyond the porch, or even the doorway, unless he was blind as a bat, that was fine too. Duncan was here, and he wanted Ruben for himself, phobias and all.

That sealed the deal for him.

“Duncan?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go back inside.”

“Something wrong?” Duncan sounded immediately alarmed.

“No. I want to eradicate my worst memory. I want you to take me to bed, to the same room where I was attacked, and make love to me.” He wondered what Duncan thought and felt right then, as he couldn’t gauge the man’s mood since he was unable to see his expression. He took a deep breath. “Please?”

“Anything you wish, Ruben.” Duncan’s voice was raspy and choked, as if he were as emotional as Ruben was at that moment. That was a comforting notion, a feeling they shared.

“T
HAT
’
S
NOT
the same, um…?” Duncan stood in place, frowning and staring at the king-size bed in Ruben’s bedroom. Obviously Duncan found it difficult to finish the sentence, and Ruben could relate.

“No. Grandma got rid of that one long ago.” He smiled at the warm, cozy memory. “We had two singles here back then. Rose was a firm believer that siblings should share a room, to teach them to share things
and
respect each other’s boundaries. She always said whoever we met in life, family was forever.”

Duncan smiled ruefully. “She sounds like a great woman. I wish I had met her.”

“Me too.” He sighed, feeling the longing to reconnect with those he had lost. “That’s one of the reasons I wish I could one day get better. I’d love to visit her grave, tell her all about you and everything that’s happened to me.”

Duncan rested a hand on Ruben’s shoulder, the touch soothing. “I believe she’ll hear you no matter where you are.”

The implication that he didn’t have to overcome his agoraphobia just to be a part of his family, even the ones who were gone, felt like a warm blanket around Ruben’s body. “How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?”

“Luck. Fate. Love. Take your pick.” Duncan’s husky chuckle made Ruben grin too. “I like your room. It could use a little color, though.” Duncan feeling comfortable enough to speak his mind in the room where a horrible thing had occurred lifted Ruben’s spirit. That normalcy, more than anything, told him everything was going to be all right. And that it was all good.

Ruben took a look around, trying to see the room with fresh eyes, like Duncan. His guy was right about the place looking a little drab. And that was being kind.

White curtains hung lifeless, blocking the view outside. Wallpaper with gray, stylized flowers was peeling off in places. There were precious few pieces of furniture in the room: a single wardrobe, a bed, a dresser, and nothing else. The woven rugs were handmade by Rose’s senior friends, but they hadn’t been cleaned properly in ages, and the various shades of blue had begun to blend together.

All in all, it wasn’t the most inviting room. Then again, apart from sleeping, Ruben didn’t spend much time there anyway.

“You do have Ben’s pics here,” Duncan commented, walking to the bedside dresser, on top of which were Ruben’s personal family photos. A picture of his mom and dad in the garden of the house where they used to live in Seattle proper. A Christmas family photo with Ruben, Ben, and their parents, the boys by the tree opening their presents and their parents watching, smiling, with mugs of eggnog. A picture of a younger, proudly smiling Benjamin, apparently at a gallery opening. “When was this taken?”

Ruben sauntered to stand at his side. “Um, when Ben was nineteen and I was fifteen. His first show.” Ruben brushed the picture tenderly, smiling. “He was so nervous, but he couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot the whole night. It was one of the first times I got to witness the impact art could have on people, how it provoked and evoked emotional responses and even physical reactions. Heady stuff.”

“Ben’s your inspiration?” Duncan’s gaze bore into Ruben. Damn, how perceptive that man was, seeing to the heart of things so easily. “I have a feeling it wasn’t the fame you liked, not the way he does.”

“Ben’s not a glory hog,” Ruben protested, defending his big brother. “He appreciates the fact that there can be fame and wealth by being an artist. But that’s not why he’s into it, either.”

“Check.” Duncan’s wink and grin was lighthearted, and Ruben was at ease once more. “I don’t want to sound like a broken record or step over any lines here, as it is a personal matter, but, uh… I think you might want to reconsider letting Ben be a part of your life again. I mean, here, specifically. I got the impression he misses you.”

If that was true—and Ruben believed Duncan—then it was a feeling he shared with his brother. Duncan was right. Maybe it was high time Ruben patched things up with Benjamin. He missed Ben anyway. His brother being busy was just an excuse Ruben told himself.

“You’re right. I think I will.” Then Ruben met Duncan’s eyes. “But not tonight.”

Duncan placed the picture back on the dresser carefully and smiled at Ruben. “No, not tonight. We have, um, other plans.”

“How eloquently put,” Ruben teased. That startled him more than Duncan. Ruben had never played this game, lovingly teasing a friend and partner. He’d never had a friend or a partner, not since he was a kid in school. Briefly, he wondered where those people were now.

“I
do
work for a publisher, you know,” Duncan needled right back, chuckling.

“Because the two are always related, huh?”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed, but Ruben saw he was trifling with him. “Smartass.”

Ruben’s eyes widened. No one had ever called him that, not even Benjamin. Duncan was clearly settling in, offering him normalcy and familiarity. “Pedantic, relentless—”