Safe in His Arms (20 page)

“He works in the mines.”

“Doing what?”

Casey frowned again. “I dunno. Mining?”

This time the you-are-being-dumb look came with a slight variation. It was now you-are-being-a-dumb-shit. “Casey. You’re old enough to realize that mining isn’t what it was portrayed as in
Snow White
. People who work in the mines don’t trundle off each day with a pickax over their shoulder. Haven’t you ever asked Lon what he does?”

Casey wished a hole would open up in the floor for him to crawl into. He was ashamed. “No.”

“Okay. What about family? You told me his parents are dead. How did they die?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s personal shit,” Casey almost shouted. “Because I don’t want him to judge me and treat me special because of things that happened to me years ago, so I don’t ask him personal shit like how come his parents and sister all died together. Of course I want to know, but unless he wants to tell me, I won’t ask.”

“How do you know he doesn’t want to tell you?”

“Because it’s personal shit. I told you.”

“And making love to someone on a regular basis and living with them isn’t personal?”

Casey stormed to his feet and took up his regular pacing as he argued with Mick. “My dad taught me that fucking isn’t personal. It’s just a way to get your rocks off. I don’t have to know everything about a guy who fucks me.”

Mick was calm and asked in an almost idle tone, “So, are you telling me that what you and Lon do together in your bed is just the same as what your dad made you do?”

Horrified at that suggestion, Casey whirled on Mick. “Fuck, no!”

“What is it, then?”

Casey held his breath as he waved his hands around, grasping at nothing as if he could pull the words to explain out of thin air. “It’s…. Shit. Me and Lon are like magic. It’s so much more than just fucking. It’s like…. I dunno how to say it. It’s like our souls merge and our hearts beat at the same time. It’s like the world around us doesn’t matter as long as the two of us are together. It’s like….”

He stopped, trying to find the right words.

“It’s like making love?” Mick asked.

“Exactly.” Casey sighed. “That’s what it’s like. It’s all that fairy-tale stuff wrapped up in one neat bundle. It’s like he’s mine and I’m his.”

“It’s personal,” Mick suggested.

“Yes,” Casey exalted. Then stopped.
Hang on.
Mick was looking at him with raised brows. “Fuck.” Casey spun and looked out the window. He hated being the dumbest person in the room.

Mick calmly opened his diary and flicked the pages. “So when does Lon go back to work?”

“Ten days,” Casey gruffly answered without looking.

“Good. Then I want to see you next week. I have an appointment free at three o’clock next Saturday. So clear it with Lon, and I’ll see you both then.”

W
ITHOUT
TELLING
Casey, Lon had Paul drive him to visit his brother in jail the day before Casey’s counseling session. Once they were face to face, it took Lon a good twenty minutes before he could say what he needed to talk to Ronnie about.

“Ronnie, can we talk about Livvy?”

Ronnie’s face blanked at the abrupt change in subject, but he didn’t shy away from it. “What about her? Have you heard something?”

“No,” Lon was quick to reply. “If I’d heard anything, then I’d be on the phone to you as soon as possible. I’ve told you that. I won’t break my promise.”

“Then what about her?”

Lon nervously drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ve been thinking about buying a house. Somewhere nice with a garden and all. I’ve got savings, but—”

Ronnie sighed. “It’s about the money, isn’t it? You don’t have to lie to me or hide anything, Lon. I know I fucked up. I’m the first one to say that. I’ve told you that I don’t deserve a share of that money, so just take it. If there are papers to sign, then I’ll sign them. I don’t need the money in here.”

But Lon was shaking his head. “Don’t start this shit again, bro. Part of that money is your inheritance, and that’s all there is to say about it. Now, I’ve been paying fees for a lawyer to keep the money in an estate trust and to keep searching for Livvy, but we need to make some decisions. It’s been eight years. We need to decide what to do if she never turns up. That money is sitting there earning interest, but I was thinking that I’d like my third. The rest can stay for when you get out, and for Liv, if she ever turns up. But I’d like to take my portion.”

“As far as I’m concerned, half of that money’s yours, Lon, not a third. I’m not entitled to anything.”

“That’s not what the will said,” Lon argued.

“Yeah, but that will was written before Mum and Dad knew what a pathetic son I would turn out to be.”

“Well, guess what? They wrote it, and I’m determined that their last wishes are seen to. Now, what I need you to do is to think about what we should do with Livvy’s money if she should ever turn up—” He paused to swallow. “—dead. I’ve paid thousands in search fees and detectives and all. She’s either gone, mate, or she isn’t ever going to come back. The lawyer said we can petition to have her declared dead if she hasn’t been found after seven years.”

Ronnie was scratching at a mark on the table with his thumbnail. “She’s not dead.”

“You don’t know that, bro.”

He looked up, and the brothers shared a look of understanding. Lon knew all Ronnie’s secrets, just like Ronnie knew Lon’s. “If she was dead I’d know inside of me. She’s not dead. She hates my guts and will probably never face me willingly again, but she’s not dead.”

“Okay, bro. I understand. It’s fine. We’ll leave the money there for her when she finally decides to come home.”

Ronnie smiled weakly at him, then changed the subject. “A house? You mean a real one without wheels underneath it? Since when have you wanted a house?”

Paul snorted from his side of the table where he had been silently listening to the exchange. “Didn’t you hear the other part of the sentence, Ronnie? Lon says he wants a house.
With a garden
.”

The big man struggled in vain to keep his cheeks from heating while Ronnie gave Paul a questioning look. “What the fuck does Lon want a garden for?”

Paul propped his chin on his fist and grinned. “I dunno, man. Maybe it has to do with a certain person who now works in a gardening center?”

A look of delight crossed Ronnie’s face as he eagerly turned back to Lon. Of course Ronnie knew all about Casey by now. “Really? You like this guy enough that you’d buy a house for him?”

“I’m not buying a house for him. I’ve just decided to invest in real estate. I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like a house.”

Paul and Ronnie shared an amused look and nodded sagely. “Sure, Lon. You keep telling yourself that.”

“You know, Paul, you really should bring this guy along next time you visit. I’d like to meet him.” Ronnie was almost chuckling at his brother’s embarrassment.

Lon was turning a brighter shade of red. “Give it a break, guys.”

They ignored him. “Probably could bring Casey over on a Saturday,” Paul replied without looking at Lon. “Of course Lon would be back to the mines by then, so it would just be the two of us.”

“Excellent,” Ronnie crowed. “Then we can ask all sorts of questions without Lon knowing.”

Lon’s mouth was gaping open.

“He’s quite a nice guy,” Paul continued. “He listened to my problems the other night without kicking my arse to the curb, and he’s cute as a button when he blushes if you start talking about Lon.”

“So does he love my brother?” Ronnie wanted to know.

“About as much as your brother loves him,” Paul said.

Ronnie snuck a look at Lon, and a slow smile transformed his features. “Excellent.”

Chapter 15

“W
HY
DOES
Mick want to see me?” Lon asked Casey for the hundredth time as they dressed to catch the bus into Fremantle.

“He doesn’t want to
see
you,” Casey tried to explain once again. “He wants to meet you. Maybe he wants to tell you something about me. Maybe he wants you to tell him what I’m like when I’m not in his room. I really don’t know.”

“Will you be with me the whole time? I really don’t want a psych probing my head.”

“He won’t. He’s more interested in my head.”

Lon glared as he pulled a tight-fitting black T-shirt over his head. “I don’t want him interested in you at all.”

Casey’s insides hummed at the show of jealousy, but he ignored it in order to frown at Lon. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Casey was no psychologist, but when Lon had deliberately shaved his head down to a stubble that morning, it rang warning bells in his head. Seeing his boyfriend wearing black pants and a black T-shirt, he knew he was right. Lon was uncertain of what would happen with Mick, so he was pulling on his most forbidding armor.

“Mick’s not going to hurt you, you know.”

“Of course he won’t,” Lon was quick to reply.

“So there’s no need to bring out the intimidation clothes. Take your jeans off and wear shorts, then. It’s summer outside, and you’ll be dripping in sweat if you wear all black in the sun.”

“They’re not intimidation clothes.”

Casey didn’t want to argue with Lon just before a counseling session, so he fibbed. “Fine, then. But I’ll have you know that those pants make me horny. I can see your nipples through that shirt and that makes me want to get down on my knees and suck you off. It would be a great fantasy. The big, bad, biker dude, making the small, young twink pleasure him while the doctor looks on and takes notes.”

They locked up the van ten minutes later and walked to the bus stop—Lon wearing his army surplus shorts, white T-shirt, and casual sandals. Casey waited until they were on the bus to whisper, “Oh, by the way? Those pants make me horny too. I don’t think there’s anything you can wear that will not make me horny around you.”

“How about a long pink skirt?”

Casey thought about it. “Okay. You win. That one’s just sick.”

They smiled at each other with perfect understanding.

Mick was waiting for them, and it was Casey’s turn to be nervous. If Mick disapproved of his boyfriend, would Casey still want to come to counseling? But Mick smiled and shook Lon’s hand without a flicker of concern or malcontent.

“Pleased to finally meet you, Lon. Casey has raved on and on about you.”

His statement made Lon relax as well, and soon the two of them were chatting—about the weather of all things. Perth in the middle of summer? People always claimed it was the hottest summer on record that they could remember. You couldn’t have a conversation without mentioning it.

Eventually Casey and Lon settled on the couch, and Mick gave Lon a short spiel about privacy and ethics. “Now, I don’t want you to be embarrassed or anything about details of your relationship that Casey has revealed to me. Casey needs help to work through his stresses. What I’m here for is to provide a sounding board and make sure he’s not overreacting, until he feels confident enough to handle problems on his own. His sexuality and sexual experiences play into this. This is the part of him that has been bruised, and Casey doesn’t always trust himself to be reacting in a rational manner.”

“Are you telling me he shouldn’t be gay?” Lon asked.

“No. Definitely not,” Mick was quick to deny. “I firmly believe that Casey is well enough to know in his own mind whether he’s gay or not.”

“How can he be?” Lon asked earnestly. “I mean, how do you recover from what he went through? Isn’t it always going to be there?”

Casey placed a hand on Lon’s thigh, and Lon picked it up and entwined their fingers as he listened to Mick. “Of course it will always be there, but not like you mean, Lon. It will always be there, but Casey has the choice of whether to react to it or not.” He blinked and kept his gaze steady. “Consider a person who was once punched by a red-headed person in a dark alley, one night. Now, it’s reasonable to fear being punched again. In fact it would be reasonable to fear every single redhead—but not a really good way to spend your life, now, is it? So with help, you could train yourself to recognize logically that not every person who has red hair is going to assault you. You learn to judge people, not by what they look like, but by how they are threatening you, if at all. In fact you could come to the point where only if the exact same circumstances occur would your fear be overwhelming.”

Lon frowned. “But doesn’t sex scare Casey?” He nervously cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m a big guy and I can get a bit rough sometimes. I don’t ever want him to be scared of me.”

Mick tilted his head and carefully avoided Casey’s gaze as it ping-ponged between the two men. He was sitting silently even though he was the subject of the conversation. “Have you ever asked Casey what scares him?” Mick asked.

That produced a momentary frown of consternation from Lon. “I didn’t want to bring it up and make him relive it.”

“Asking a person what scares them is not reliving an event, it’s giving them control over their own lives. A person who is raped is not only physically hurt, but also mentally hurt due to their loss of control over their own body. They were unable to control the situation, and that’s scary. The physical bruises will heal quickly, but their loss of control lingers.”