Safe in His Arms (6 page)

“The same guy you told on the phone you wouldn’t share me with?”

Lon chuckled. “Yes. Paul. He’s a meathead, but a horny meathead.”

Casey nodded toward the single photograph on top of the microwave as he dried the plate in his hands. “Is that him?”

Like a switch had been flicked off, the smile died on Lon’s face. “No. That guy there’s in jail. He’s a dick.”

That made Casey stop and wonder, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. The guy in the photo was such a dick that Lon still displayed his image? Still displayed his photo as the
only
photo in the room?

“Did you love him?” The question was out of his mouth before he had the chance to think about the etiquette of asking such a personal thing.

The big man sighed and looked at the photo. “Yes. I still do. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a dick.”

True. Casey wondered what he would have to do to have someone as nice as Lon love him that much.

With the dishes done, Casey had no more reason to linger, so he bid Lon good-bye and wandered back to his grandmother’s cabin. The old girl was reading the local newspaper as she crunched through her morning muesli and yogurt. She looked up as Casey entered.

“There you are,” she said with a smile. “I was getting worried about you. Have you been out all night? Do you want some breakfast?”

Casey rolled his eyes and sat down on the lounge that doubled as his bed. He rummaged through his box of things, hoping to find some clean clothes. Any other grandmother would be scolding him for staying out. His grandmother, on the other hand, seemed glad that he had, and was probably wanting to know all the dirty details.

“I’ve had brekkie, thanks.”

“Good. So did you find some nice boy to stay with? Tell me all the dirty details?”

Casey chuckled to himself inwardly where his grandmother couldn’t see. How did he know she was going to ask? “Yes, I found someone nice to stay with last night. No, I am not telling you all the dirty details.”

She pouted at him. “What about some of the clean details, then?”

“No.”

Casey’s grandmother always wanted to know the details. He knew she worried about him and wanted him to find a “nice boy” to be with. He wondered what she would think about Lon? She was a great grandmother because she didn’t smother him and had encouraged him to find friends. She told him that she understood if he wanted to stay overnight with a boyfriend, as long as Casey let her know he was okay.

But at the same time, Casey knew what sort of “boy” his grandmother wanted him to fool around with. She pointed out some cute, young guys on the beach to him who were all of sixteen. Casey knew she would be opposed to him sleeping with someone like Lon. “Are you seeing him again?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

His grandmother smiled radiantly at him. “Great. Perhaps if you’re staying with him again one night, you can give me some warning? Then I could invite Reg over for the night.”

Casey screwed his eyes up tight and tried to dispel the image of his grandmother and wrinkly Reg going at it like two bunnies. It didn’t work. He had to admit that his grandmother was still an attractive woman for someone who was a couple of years shy of sixty. She looked after herself, didn’t cook herself in the Australian sun until she was berry-brown and wrinkled, didn’t smoke, kept fit, and wore makeup every day. But she was still old. And Reg was even older.

“Grandma! Please. I have delicate ears. Don’t go corrupting me.”

His gran didn’t stop. “Oh, diddums. Do you think that old people don’t have sex? We do. It may take us a bit longer and we aren’t as flexible as we once were, but it works fine. And Reg is a horny guy. No Viagra needed for him.”

“Grandma!” Casey wailed. “Stop. You’re going to scare me off getting old. I’ll look down at my dick one day and realize that it’s twenty-five years old and about to fall off.”

“Pff. Do you think your generation invented sex? How do you think you arrived, mister?”

Casey shot her a cheeky grin. “You found me in the cabbage patch.”

“Get on with you. Now, do you need me to buy you some condoms when I’m at work today? I read the other day that HIV is once again on the rise within the gay community. Are you being safe?”

Shutting his eyes didn’t seem to make her disappear, so Casey prayed for a gran who was horrified that he was “one of them queer folk” instead of one who talked to him about STDs, bought him condoms, and wanted to know if he was a top or a bottom. Why did straight people always need to ask that question?

“No, Grandma. I’ve got plenty, thanks. I was thinking of heading into Fremantle today and checking out TAFE courses. What do you think?”

She rinsed her bowl but left it in the sink. Casey had been doing the housework for her since he’d moved in. It was only fair. “I think that’s a great idea, sweetheart. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll leave some money for you and while you’re in Freo you should head to the markets and get us some veggies. They have all the fresh stuff there, and it’s a lot cheaper than the supermarket.”

“Okay. I was going to go to an employment agency too.”

His grandmother paused and gave him a considering look. “Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

He sighed and thought for the millionth time that everyone else seemed to think they knew what was better for him than he did. “Yes, Grandma. I need to get a job. I can’t hang out here for the rest of my life. I want to get a job and get some money together. Then I can maybe afford TAFE.”

His grandmother wasn’t convinced. “But what if you start having anxiety attacks again? Are you sure that a job won’t bring them on? Won’t a job cause you stress?”

Casey got to his feet and hugged her briefly. “I’m coping okay with the anxiety at the moment, Grandma. While I’m in town today, I’ll check out some therapists too. I don’t think I desperately need counseling at the moment, but I should get one so I feel comfortable with them and they can help me if the stress comes back. But I need money to pay for one.”

I
T
TURNED
out to be a fruitful day. The library gave him a book on how to do a resume and provided a computer for thirty minutes to knock one up. The employment agency sent him home with a long list of jobs and telephone numbers to call. The local medical center directed him to a mental health center attached to the hospital that was government funded, and he hooked himself up with an appointment in two days. The TAFE gave him booklets to read through and a website to look at. And finally, the Fremantle Markets sold him enough fruit and vegetables that he had trouble carrying them all home.

He was so busy that he didn’t think about his father for hours. He cooked dinner and sat at the table, ate with his grandmother, and didn’t once have a single smidgen of anxiety until the news break came on and caught his attention.

“Police confirmed today that they have swooped on the residences of three men in Perth’s northern suburbs after they were linked to an international child pornography group. The men are accused of downloading images of children and teenagers from a site that was accessed by people across the globe. Nationally thirty-two men and two women have been arrested. The accused Perth men will spend the night behind bars and will appear in the Perth Magistrates Court tomorrow morning.”

Casey didn’t need the mirror to tell him his face had gone pale. He could feel the blood drain from his brain and pool in a dark lump in his stomach. His breathing hitched and his heart rate suddenly took off, thumping loudly in his now-empty brain. He felt jittery and out of sorts, and the cabin finally became too small to contain him. He flung open the door and stepped onto the wooden veranda while trying to draw in deep breaths and calm himself. The cool air didn’t work. He could feel the tightness in his chest beginning to set in. His shoulders slumped to ward off an attack and prepare himself for the blows that were coming.

“Casey? Casey, sweetheart? Are you alright?”

No! For fuck’s sake, of course I’m not alright! I’ll never be alright again. I’m going to be fucked up and suffering for the rest of my life for all the things done to me that were not my fault. What the fuck did I do to the world to get what it dished out?

He could feel himself overreacting and tried to head off the panic attack, but those chooks had already flown the coop in the face of the fox. They were now flapping their wings madly and squawking raucously, running around the yard in mayhem. Feathers were flying, and shit was going everywhere.

“Casey!”

He realized he was running only when his grandmother called his name. But it was too late—his feet were moving, and his legs were pumping furiously to escape the thoughts and realities that awaited him back home. There was only one safe place.

Lon.

He skidded around the corner, dodged the car coming his way, and jumped over the bike left on the side of the road. Feeling as if that fox was nipping at his heels, Casey put on some extra speed as Lon’s place came in sight. The zip was open on the annex door so he simply barreled in, forgetting politeness in the quest for safety. He spotted Lon—standing at the table, looking at him in disbelief—and flung himself at that solid foundation, plastering himself against that broad chest, and wrapping flimsy arms around him.

“Casey? What…?”

The smell of Lon made it into his nostrils, and his subconscious clung to that. Lon was safety. Lon wouldn’t let his father in.

Lon encircled his shaking shoulders with his giant arms, and for the first time in minutes, he felt like he could maybe stop and take a breath deep enough to penetrate to his lungs. His blood was still driving furiously through his veins, and his heart was working at double time to prepare his body for fighting.

“Who the hell is that?”

The stranger’s voice registered with Casey but he didn’t care. Lon was here. Lon had him. He listened with half an ear while he concentrated on breathing and letting all his anxiety go.

“This is Casey. Remember the twink I mentioned?”

“Well, what’s wrong with him? Is he a little touched in the head or some shit?”

“Piss off. There’s nothing wrong with him. Obviously something just spooked him.”

“Then why did he come running to you? Have you been going leather daddy on his arse?”

“Oh, go and fuck yourself, Paul. And while you’re at it, go make yourself useful and move that gear off the lounge.”

“Fucking slave driver!”

“Casey? Mate? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you, mate? Can you look at me and tell me what’s wrong?”

All Casey could do was shake his head and cling harder. He felt Lon sigh and then he was moving. Lon gently walked him backward but never once let go of him. When Lon sat down on the recliner lounge, Casey, unwilling to leave his safety, simply curled up on his lap, his arms still around Lon’s breadth, his face buried in the heavenly scent of security.

“Bring me my beer, will ya, Paul? Thanks.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Nothing until he calms down. Just ignore him. I’m sure he’ll be okay in a bit. By the way, did you see Rocco’s new girlfriend? Shit. I wouldn’t want to marry that. She’d cost him an arm and leg in grocery bills.”

“Fuck off, Lon. You’re so fucking mean. The woman wasn’t that bad. She just had a mega-arse on her. You’re just used to the skinny boy arses.”

The stranger called Paul and Lon continued to chat over his head, and Casey allowed the calmness to wash over him. He listened to them razz each other and started to smile slightly at their stories. These guys were crude, but salt of the earth. If the worst thing that Lon ever did was unfairly call some strange girl overweight, then he was a million times better than some of the scum that Casey had come in contact with.

“… and apparently he’s married. Yes. Joey told me he saw the guy out in the park with this model-like wife and two little kiddies. Joey heard the wife call him ‘Honey’ and the kids called him ‘Daddy.’ I can’t believe it. That guy must have some closet to hide in.”

“It’s his right to be in the closet if he wants, Paul. He wasn’t telling anyone at the gym any lies. Hell, when he approached me, he was up-front about it all. He was looking for a quick tumble and no strings.”

“But don’t you think he’s being unfair? I would like to know when I’m being the ‘other woman’ in a relationship.”

“Relationship? Fuck, Paul. How many times did you do him? One-night stands are supposed to be for one night only.”

“But he was such a good lay, Lon. He has these flexible legs that go straight up and he can deep throat for ages. No fucking gag reflex at all. It was like God made him to be gay, and he’s messing with God’s intentions for him.”

“So are you seeing him again?”

There was an embarrassed chuckle before Paul answered, “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Horndog.”

Casey finally felt brave enough to turn his head slightly and check out who this friend of Lon’s was that was seeing a closeted married man in secret. Casey expected him to be similar to Lon, but he wasn’t. He was only a regular, clean-cut guy with ripped muscles, wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Casey wouldn’t have picked him for being gay. The guy had dark, close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. Those eyes flickered to Casey’s as he realized he was being watched.

Paul’s brows rose in a “what are you looking at arsehole?” way as he candidly stared back at Casey and said, “Hello.”

Casey blinked like a miner coming out of a deep pit. Had he really had a panic attack, raced into Lon’s place unannounced, and curled up like a little kid on Lon’s lap? Fuck!

“Lon, your boy toy is awake.”

“Fuck off, Paul. He’s nearly twenty-two.”

Well, actually he wasn’t. That was a lie. But nearly twenty-two sounded a lot better than nineteen, didn’t it? Maybe next month when he turned twenty he’d tell Lon the truth.

“Okay, then, prick. Your almost-twenty-two-but-still-too-young-for-you-twink is awake and looking at me like he wants to swap daddies. So how about you pass him over here and let me take him home so you can get an early night?”