Chapter 20
Tristan
With Ben’s approval, I didn’t go straight to his house in the morning; I needed to restock on paint supplies. By the time I arrived at his place, he’d gone to work, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit disappointed that I didn’t get to see him.
When I’d left for the evening yesterday, I had the feeling he was lining up to ask me to stay again, and fuck, did I want to.
Not wanting to have to tell him no, though, I dropped into conversation that I’d promised the twins I’d spend the evening helping them decorate the front of the house with Christmas lights.
He looked just as disheartened as I felt.
Still, I got to spend the evening with my two favorite girls, and once the lights were up, the three of us snuggled on the couch with hot chocolates and watched two and a half Christmas films. Half because the twins fell asleep, and I carried them in turns to their beds before crashing in my own.
I knew Ben had a busy day ahead of him; he’d had three new enquiries from people wanting to view his properties, and would be out of the office to show them around.
I kept my fingers crossed that the enquiries turned into contracts; he told me the other night how his business was beginning to struggle.
With the hallway finally painted, the new kitchen cupboards in place, and all the windows fixed, my work was nearly complete. I’d dragged it out as much as I could, but unless Ben asked me to do some other work, I wouldn’t have a reason to come here every day.
Just as I stopped to scoff the sandwich I’d made before leaving home this morning, my phone rang. A stupidly soppy grin spread over my lips at seeing Ben’s name flash up on the screen.
“Hey, man,” I answered, trying to play down my giddiness at hearing his voice. “How’s it going?”
A contented sigh echoed down the line. “Hi, Bug.” A pause followed, and I could imagine he was wearing the same grin as me. “It’s going good. Really good, actually. Two of the three viewings have turned into long-term lets. I’ve got about an hour before the third viewing.”
“Dude, that’s great news. See, you can charm people when you stop scowling at them.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. So…I wondered if you wanted to come over this evening for a few celebratory beers? Maybe stay the night again.”
I grimaced, even though he couldn’t see me.
“I can’t…I’m sorry. I’m meeting a few of my friends for pre-Christmas beers.
We haven’t been able to get together in months, and tonight was the only night we were all free.
” A part of me was tempted to cancel in favor of seeing Ben when a thought popped into my head. “Hey, why don’t you come with us?”
“Uh, thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
“Why? They’re a good bunch, you’d like them.”
“Bug, I’m the most hated man in this town. I might like them, but I doubt they’ll like me,” he replied, his tone tainted with dejection.
“Then this is a good opportunity to start showing people of this town that you’re not a bad guy. Come on, it’ll be fine,” I urged, wanting people to see him the way I did.
Several seconds passed, and I held my breath as I waited for his answer. A heavy sigh filtered through the phone, and I knew his answer before he said a word. “I’ll take a rain check, Bug. I hope you have a good evening, though.”
“How about I come to your place after? I’ll be done by about 10 pm and can get a cab to yours, unless that’s too late?” I quickly said, failing to hide my desperation to see him.
“No, that’s not too late. How about I pick you up, save you spending money on a cab?”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know I don’t, but I want to,” Ben replied softly.
My grin widened. “Okay, shall we say 10 pm outside Charlie’s? I think you know the place,” I laughed.
“Yeah, I know it, Bug,” he snorted. “I’ll see you then.”
Beaming like an idiot, I wished him good luck for his final viewing and hung up, insanely excited for the night ahead. Although I didn’t think my excitement was because I was seeing my friends.
Pete, Luke, Chris, and I had been friends since middle school.
We got on well because none of us were part of the popular crowd; in fact, for years, other kids called us the nerdy boys.
When the three of them went off to college, and I stayed put in Henderson to complete an apprenticeship in painting and decorating, we stayed in touch, with me visiting them, and them returning home frequently.
In recent months, life had gotten busy for us all. My business had taken off, Pete had become a father, Luke was in the midst of planning a wedding with his fiancée, and Chris was working all hours in an unpaid internship as a stockbroker.
We messaged regularly in our group chat, but because we hadn’t managed to meet up in a while, our pre-Christmas beers were well overdue. The evening flew by as we all caught up on life, but the reality of adulthood kicked in by 9 pm.
“I’m gonna head to the bar. Who wants a beer?” Chris asked, having drunk his third pint much quicker than all of us.
Pete sighed. “I can’t. I promised Charlotte I would be home by 9 to help with Arthur’s night feed. She’ll kill me if I’m much later; she’s barely slept since the little fella came along.”
I offered him a sympathetic smile, remembering what it was like in our house when the twins were born. I didn’t think I slept a solid night for months, and often went to school exhausted.
“Yeah, I’m going to have to call it a night, too, boys. Wendy and I are going to see a wedding venue in the morning, and she wants to leave early,” Luke added, downing the last mouthful of his beer.
Chris glowered at them. “What the hell has happened to you pussies? I thought we were out on the town tonight like old times.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “Hate to say it, dude, but life’s changed for all of us. Besides, we agreed tonight was going to be a quiet one.”
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving as well, Tris? Me and you are still single, don’t you want to hit up the town and find some company for the night?” Chris urged.
A lump lodged in my throat, and I swallowed it like a bitter pill. Arguably, I was single. But I didn’t want to be. There was one guy who had my attention, and the only one I wanted to spend the night with, but Chris’s words were another reminder that what Ben and I had was nothing serious.
Shaking away the sour mood threatening to ruin my evening, I checked my watch. “I’m good for another hour, I’ll have one more beer.”
Chris rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath once again about how we were all pussies. Saying our goodbyes to Pete and Luke, I followed Chris to the bar, detouring along the way to take a piss.
Finding the restroom empty, I did my business and washed my hands, the face of Ben front and center in my mind.
I couldn’t wait to see him, and I knew I was too far gone with my feelings to not get hurt if he decided to end things.
Maybe I needed to speak to him. See what page he was on.
Who knew, maybe he felt the same about me, and our secret liaisons could turn into something more.
Lost in thought, I didn’t register the door opening behind me as I dried my hands under the dryer. It was only when a familiar voice spoke that I spun, a lump of dread landing square in my gut as I stared at the person whose goal was to make my life a misery.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Tristan Crutchens,” Bill Woods said, a malicious smirk on his face as he raked his eyes up and down my body. “Still taking cock up the ass?”
I grit my teeth. I’d had every homophobic slur thrown at me from this asshole in the past. I would have thought that after he’d left school and gone to college, he might have grown up a bit, but clearly, that hadn’t happened.
He’d moved away from Henderson after he finished college, but he still had family in town and would often visit.
Of course, he used his visits to antagonize me in any way he could.
Last Christmas, I woke to discover someone had scratched faggot into the panel of my van.
I could never prove it was him, but given that was his favorite thing to call me, I suspected he was responsible.
I hadn’t seen him around town for several months, and truthfully, I’d forgotten about him. It was just my bad luck to run into him when I was the happiest I’d been in a long time.
Instead of rising to the bait, I let a broad grin spread across my lips.
Many times, I’d reacted out of anger, and all it resulted in was me being hurt, both physically and mentally.
When I came home from school one day with a black eye, my dad had threatened to report Bill to the authorities, but I begged him not to.
He eventually relented, but that was when he told me to kill people with kindness instead of reacting to their hate, a motto I held close to me from that day.
“I certainly am, and proud. Good to see you too, Bill. You look well.”
A snarl formed on his face. “You’re fucking disgusting, Crutchens.”
I chuckled, stepping toward him, and not prepared to entertain his abuse. He leaped out of the way, almost as if he was frightened I might touch him, and he would catch my gayness.
Fighting to not roll my eyes, I stopped in front of him. “Don’t worry, Bill, I’m not going to touch you. You’re not my type.”
Throwing him a wink, I strolled past him and out of the restroom with a tremor in my hands. I hated confrontation; it wasn’t in my nature. Relieved he didn’t follow, I found Chris at the bar with a fresh pint waiting for me.
We spent the next hour sipping our drinks and talking shit about when we were kids. Right at the moment when Chris asked if I wanted another drink, my phone vibrated with an incoming message. I pulled it out of my pocket to read the message Ben had sent.
Ben:
I couldn’t get a space outside Charlie’s. I’m parked down the road by the bus stop.
Me:
Just finishing my beer, will be there in a couple of minutes.
I repocketed my phone and downed the last bit of my beer in one mouthful.
Telling Chris we’d meet up again soon, I stepped outside, huge raindrops landing on my head.
Pulling my hood over my head, grateful that Ben had come to pick me up, I kept my head bowed as I started the short walk to the bus stop.
But I didn’t get far. Hands grabbed me from behind, one going around my mouth to stop me from calling out, others holding my arms as I was pulled into a nearby alley.
I fought against the grasps, but they were too strong.
Panicked, my gaze darted around, and it took all of five seconds to see who had me.
Bill Woods and his two cronies, Jack Tucker and Cole Reed.
Jack and Cole had always followed Bill around like little lost puppies, obeying his orders. For a whole year, every time one of them saw me around school, they would punch me in the stomach because Bill had told them to.
Cole held my arm, twisting it painfully behind my back, and Bill was on my other side, leaving Jack standing behind me with his grubby hand across my mouth. Managing to rip my hand free from Bill’s hold, I took a swing at Cole, who jumped back before my punch could land.
“Hold the faggot,” Bill growled. “This dirty little fucker needs to be taught another lesson; we obviously didn’t teach him properly at school.”
He plowed his fist into my stomach, knocking the wind right out of me.
I doubled over, only to be pulled back up by Cole, who’d grabbed a handful of my hair.
A fist connected with my cheek, which was followed by a blow to my mouth.
Pain exploded in my face as the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.
The arms holding me suddenly let go, and I crashed to the ground. The three of them surrounded me, and before I could move into a position to protect my head and stomach, a solid kick collided with my ribs, once again, knocking air out of me that I’d only just regained.
Fear coursed through my body as kick after kick landed against me, but as quickly as the attack had started, it was over.
“He’s had enough, let’s get out of here,” Bill snarled, and with a final kick to my back, the three of them strolled out of the alley as if they hadn’t beaten someone black and blue.
My body slumped, and I winced with every deep breath I sucked in. Regret flowed through my veins like a tsunami. I should have canceled my drinks with the guys and stayed at home with Ben.