Innuendo (37 page)

“You just never know. I mean, I've just gotten kind of gun-shy, you know? And you—here I am sitting naked with a reporter of a people. I mean, my publicist and my lawyers would have a fit.”

“You have nothing to worry about from me. I swear to that.”

“I'm sorry, but you don't know what it's like. I've just gotten burned a few too many times.”

The way he said it, the way his brow wrinkled and those beautiful eyebrows pinched together—well, Todd didn't doubt him. Not for an instant. Of all the things to feel at this particular moment, the last and the least Todd expected was a flood of pity.

“Really, it's okay. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” said Chase. “Thank you very much. I have very few safe harbors, very, very few.”

Tim reached into the water and pulled up first Todd's right hand and then his left, both of which he clutched between his. Then softly yet firmly he placed his lips on Todd's hands and kissed them, his eyes all the while staring deep into the molten well of Todd's desire. Something, he didn't know what, shot through Todd, and he just sat there, not even flinching, for he found himself transfixed as much by the intensity of the moment as by its lack of pretense. Yes, there sat the two men in that pool of hot water, naked in every sense of the word. Finally, after what almost became a painful length of silence, Tim kissed Todd's hands once again, and then his lips moved, started to explain, to divulge the hidden truth of Tim Chase, Inc. At that very instant, however, every bit of him seized up as a herd of footsteps entered the far end of the pool room.

A deep voice from across the pool gasped, “Oh, shit.”

Todd knew that butch, sonorous voice, and as if this were some sort of pathetic soap opera, he spun around, saw not one but three men standing there on the far side of the pool. And one of them, of course, was his erstwhile lover. The next moment, practically flailing in the water, both Todd and Chase were pushing away from each other.

“Rawlins, what…” gasped Todd in a panic. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Rawlins stood there, his face frozen in shock. He went to say something, then stopped. He stared at Todd, shook his head, and then turned and stormed out. As the water churned around him, Todd started to get up, but then sank down beneath the churning water, for not only was he nude, his arousal had yet to deflate.

Furious, Chase practically leapt out, shouting, “Vic, what the fuck are you doing barging in?”

“Sorry, but ah…we have a situation here.”

“No, Vic, we don't have a situation—you do!”

If there'd been lust
in Todd's gut, now there was simply a terribly potent stew of guilt and shame and regret that Todd, in an instant, had been forced to consume in its entirety and that had left him feeling nothing short of sick, sick, sick.

He could barely pull himself out of the whirlpool, let alone stand and pull on his clothes. But he had no choice. The strength of his remorse pushed him onward, and, dripping wet, he pulled on his pants, shirt, socks, and shoes, and then went hurrying around the edge of the robber baron's pool.

Grabbing Todd by the arm at the far end, Foster, in that gruff voice of his, said, “Let him go.”

“No.”

Not for an instant. Glaring at Rawlins's work partner, he pulled himself free, then hurried out of the pool room, through the exercise room, up that big staircase, and through that enormous hall of the
tr?s riche.
As if it were some cheap screen door, Todd hurled open the oversized front door with its precious stained glass and dashed out into the cool night. Rawlins stood at the far end of the walk, his head bowed as he hung on to the thick black iron bars of the gate. As Todd approached, his pace began to slow and his heart began to shake.

“Rawlins, I'm… I'm sorry.”

Without looking up, Rawlins said, “An appointment, an interview… or a date? What the hell was that, Todd?”

“Nothing, that's what it was.”

“Oh, really? Is that what you call doing tub tricks?”

“Listen, Rawlins, I wasn't looking for it. And besides, it's not like anything really happened.”

“At least not yet, right? Gee, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Do you know who that is? That's Tim Chase, for God's sake, and he—”

“So you couldn't pass up the opportunity, right?”

“No, but—”

“You're just a star fucker, aren't you? That's all you are, a media whore desperately climbing some ladder.”

Todd stared right at him and said it as deeply and thoughtfully as he could: “Fuck you, Rawlins.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too, you asshole!”

The remorse was gone, vanished. Todd turned to the side, looked across the gazillion-dollar lawn. The oaks, dark and massive, loomed overhead in judgment. No, he wasn't going to take this. No way in hell. And so he pulled out his own vial of poisoned knowledge.

“You know what, Rawlins, I'll tell you every little detail about Tim Chase. Everything. I'll be completely honest with you because, after all, that was our agreement, right? That was the ground rule of our relationship, correct?”

Rawlins turned to him, his eyes smoldering with hate.

“I'll tell you all about what happened between me and Tim Chase… if you tell me all about you and Andrew Lyman. Deal?”

“What? How the hell do you—”

“I know everything. Jordy told me. Remember him? Jordy, Andrew's previous boyfriend? He was really upset by you stealing Andrew. I know that Andrew was in love with you, that you two were quite intimate, and that—”

“You don't know shit!”

“What don't I know? That Andrew Lyman was a minor? That you could be charged with criminal sexual conduct? Or what? That you didn't mean for it to happen? What did you do, suck him? Fuck him? Just what in the hell were you thinking? For Christ's sake, he was only seventeen!”

“Stop it!” Rawlins covered his eyes with his left hand and turned back to the gate, shaking his head and saying, “Oh, God.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “It's just so complicated.”

“No shit.”

“Todd, you've got to believe me, you don't know what this has been like, what…” His back to Todd, he leaned on the gate with both hands. “I went to his apartment that afternoon, just a few hours before he was killed. And something did happen, but not what you think. I wanted to tell you too, but when? I mean, I went over there about one-thirty, then I went on duty at three, and then… then he was killed and I was assigned to the case. There just hasn't been the right time for us to sit down and talk!”

Sensing that the truth, whatever it was, had indeed been torturing him, Todd said, “Rawlins, if something's hurting you, it's hurting me more. We're not going to last, we're not going to make it, if we have to choose when to hold back and when to give. Those are supposed to be automatic.”

And now it was just that, automatic. Rawlins couldn't keep it bottled up, not a moment longer, that much was obvious.

“So… so I went over there, over to his apartment. Andrew was really upset. Someone had been over there—I'm still not sure who— and Andrew was crying. I mean, just bawling. So what was I supposed to do, just turn around and walk out on him like every other adult in his life had done? No, I couldn't. I just took him in my arms and held him and told him everything would be okay.”

Todd kept his attention focused on the bull's-eye, asking, “Nothing sexual had happened before this?”

“God, no. Nothing. Nothing at all—and that afternoon it was the last thing on my mind. I was just trying to help him. I was just trying to be a good role model to him, that's all.” His back still to Todd, he took a deep breath. “But it wasn't quite like that for him. I mean, I had crushes on older guys when I was a kid too. I wanted to sleep with my gym teacher in the worst way so I should have seen it coming. I should have seen it in his eyes.” Rawlins reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red spiral notebook. “It's all in here.”

“What's that?”

“Andrew's diary—I stole it from his apartment after he was killed. He was writing in it just before I came over. He was writing how much he loved me and that he had seen it in my eyes, the lust. I mean, maybe I had looked at him admiringly.” He paused. “What do I mean, maybe? Of course I did. How could any gay man not? Andrew was perfect. But I never wanted to seduce him and… and I never wanted him to fall in love with me.” Rawlins sighed. “But… but he did, and that's what he last wrote in his diary. That he was in love with me, that I was coming over in just a few minutes, and that he was sure we were finally going to do it, have sex.”

Todd stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood there staring at Rawlins. “So what happened?”

“I held him and then… then he started rubbing me, caressing my back. I mean, I knew in a second what was going on and…”

“Andrew, I… I…”

“God, you're so sexy.”

“Don't,” said Rawlins, pushing him back. “We can't do that. I'm your mentor and I'm your friend.”

“Oh, come on. I won't tell.”

“You're a great kid, but I'm much older than you. And nothing can happen between us.”

“I want you,” grinned Andrew, flashing his white teeth as he reached out with his right hand. “I want to touch your hairy arms. I want to touch your hairy chest. Do you know how much you turn me on?”

“Andrew, don't,” said Rawlins, gently pulling away.

“What's the matter, don't you like me?”

“Of course I do—that's not the point.”

Confused, Andrew stared into Rawlins's eyes, not at all sure what to do. The next moment he reached down and grabbed hold of his T-shirt, yanked it over his head, and whiffed it off. Stunned, Rawlins stared at the most beautiful young man he'd ever seen, his shoulders thick and broad, his chest firm and rife, and that stomach so lean and flat. Everything in Rawlins's mind screamed no, but everything in his crotch stirred and shouted yes.

“I'm not so bad, am I?” begged Andrew.

“No… no, you're beautiful.”

His eyes bugging with excitement and want, Andrew then grabbed at the top of his jeans, unbuttoned them, and shoved them halfway down his thighs. Surrounded by glowing light brown pubic hair, his cock, already thick and strong and hard, sprang out.

Laughing, Andrew said, “Well, I'm ready.”

A movie flashed through Rawlins's head. He saw himself pulling Andrew into his embrace, kissing him, rubbing his hands all over that Adonis of lust. Did it get any better? And so Rawlins did in fact reach out. He put his hand flat on Andrew's most perfect of chests.

But then he swallowed deep and pushed Andrew gently back, saying, “No, Andrew, we can't. It's not right. I've got to go.”

“But!”

“I'll call you later. You're a wonderful kid and you're as sexy as hell, but we can't.”

“No, don't go!” Andrew pleaded.

“Bye…”

“I was going to tell you right away.” said Rawlins now, “but then I went on middle watch and then… then he was killed.”

Todd stood there, staring down at the dark blades of grass as he tried to digest Rawlins's story. Did he believe him? He heard the pain and the earnestness seeping out of Rawlins, but… but he'd seen it so clearly the other way. Was Rawlins really that strong, could he actually have touched such naked temptation and turned away from it?

Footsteps coming from the house broke Todd's thoughts. He turned, saw Neal Foster, his gait stiff and awkward, coming their way Both Todd and Rawlins fell into a kind of silence that was instinctual to any gay man when talking about sex and the exploits thereof.

“Rawlins, I hate to break up this little scene of domestic bliss.” Foster said in his usual dry manner, “but you need to come inside. You gotta hear all this.”

“Sure. I'll be right there.”

Todd and Rawlins stood shrouded in silence as Foster made his way back to the house and disappeared inside.

Finally, Todd said, “I think my head's going to explode.”

“Todd, you have to believe me—that's the truth. I didn't screw Andrew.”

“But… but I'm not sure if…”

“Don't you see, don't you get it? That's my point exactly—if even you, the person I love more than anything else in this world, is having trouble believing me, what about everyone else? What about the police force? What about the media? If this ever got out there'd be a witch hunt. At the very least I'd be suspended and put under investigation, and then it'd come out somehow, some way, that I'm HIV-positive and then I'd be fired, I'm sure of it. And why? Because no one would believe my story. No one would believe that the gay cop wasn't a pervert—after all, everyone knows all gays are perverts, right?—and that he didn't screw the beautiful young farmboy And they probably wouldn't even believe that I didn't murder him just to keep the truth from coming out.”