Chapter 11 Christian
CHRISTIAN
“There’s no way I’m letting you walk home alone with that raging asshat out there,” Kaleb declares with his arms folded across his broad chest. He’s blocking the doorway out of the back employee office with his giant frame. His shoulders are nearly as wide as the opening.
As much as I appreciate his care and concern, I don’t really want him getting involved.
He’s my coworker and one of the only normal and healthy relationships I seem to have going for me right now, I don’t want to fuck up his life with all my chaos.
Kaleb’s dirty blonde hair is slicked back and perfectly styled away from his face, allowing me to make out the pure determination painted across his face.
His square jaw is rigid with tension. He’s one of the good ones.
“Kaleb,” I begin as I spin to grab my bag off the hook. It’s still covered in dirt but at least it's dried out. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of my cell phone inside. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not too dark out yet and I’ll stick to the well-lit path.”
“Nope, not a chance,” Kaleb says, unmoving.
“It’s not a question. It’s a statement. I’m giving you a ride home.
” He levels me with a serious look. “That guy seemed like he was looking for trouble. You don’t need any trouble.
I’m your friend. Just let me make sure you get home in one piece, alright? ”
His offer is kind. He’s a good guy. I just don’t want him to feel like he has to take care of me. I hate feeling like a burden.
“What about Melisa?” I ask him, hoping that bringing up his very cute, very blonde and bubbly girlfriend will help him forget about his savior complex.
It doesn’t work.
“She’s working late tonight,” he responds with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I have plenty of time to drop you at home then make it over to her work.”
I’m not sure why I’m fighting Kaleb so much on this.
I should be scared of this homophobic psycho that seems to have it out for me.
But I think there’s some twisted and delusional part of my mind that’s holding onto the hope that my dirty nightmare about the demon fucking me in the woods might repeat itself.
I know that’s ridiculous, demons aren’t real.
It must have all been a dream or a figment of my imagination or something.
I’m being foolish, I should take the ride.
“Alright, thanks Kaleb. That’s nice of you,” I concede.
With a pleased look, Kaleb moves from the doorway to grab his own coat from the hooks.
The feeling of something rubbing against my ankle causes me to jump.
I glance down swiftly but all that’s there are shadows.
A sudden sense of dread washes over me as I watch the shadows twist and twirl around my ankles.
I can feel it—the unmistakable sense of eyes watching me.
The chill that creeps up my spine is eerily familiar, like long fingers teasingly stroking each one of my vertebrae.
Goosebumps ripple across my skin. It feels like there’s someone behind me, their hands and eyes touching me like a phantom made of smoke luring me into the shadows.
“Ready?” Kaleb asks, causing me to startle. I jump backwards slightly, bumping into the table behind me. I could swear I feel strong hands wrap possessively around my core to steady me.
“Yeah,” I mumble, shaking off the feeling. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Kaleb’s gait is much longer than mine with his ridiculously long-limbed body.
Seriously, if I didn’t know him and how smart he is, I’d guess he’s part Neanderthal with the way he’s built.
I always envied guys like that growing up—the ones with the genes to be big and strong and athletic.
The classically masculine guys. But the more I grew up, the more I became okay with just being me.
I may not be athletic or jacked, but I’m my own brand of masculine—something softer, sassier, and more easy-going.
It took me a long time to realize that doesn’t make me less manly.
I needed to expand my perception, not change who I am inside.
And yet, right now, as I jog walk to keep up with Kaleb, I curse my shorter legs.
“That customer today was wild!” Kaleb jokes as we wind through the dark and empty shelves of the shop.
“Oh, I know!” I agree with him, the unease of a moment ago completely forgotten with his easy banter. “Who brings their non-service dog into a bookshop, lets it pee on the books, then gets mad when asked to leave. I’m so leaving that story on the Customer Service Karen’s SubReddit thread later.”
We step through the front door of the shop into the cool autumn night.
This time of year the days can be warm and sunny, but the nights are cold.
A cool breeze whips by and I pull my jacket around me tighter.
Kaleb locks the door before stowing the key in his pocket.
We head down the walkway and turn to the back of the building where the employee parking lot resides.
The bookshop is right on the main downtown strip of our small Northeastern town.
It’s awesome for foot traffic but not so great for parking.
Luckily, there’s a small dirt lot out back for employees.
It’s a slow weekday night in our sleepy town.
During the weekends this time of year, the town will be bustling with ‘leaf lookers’ coming to the East Coast to do the whole kitchy small-town-autumn-tourist thing.
It’s great for business but completely depletes my social battery.
Right now, the streets are empty. Silent. Dark.
As we round the back of the building and move into the openness behind the shops, Kaleb’s old silver pickup comes into view.
It’s the only car in the lot. And standing next to it, illuminated by a thin sliver of moonlight, is a tall figure.
Their face is hidden beneath the shadows cast by the hood of their dark-colored sweatshirt but they’re leaning up against the truck’s driver's side door in a way that makes me uneasy for some reason. I feel my friend’s steps falter next to me as he also notices that someone appears to be waiting for us.
“Can I help you?” Kaleb calls out to whoever is there, his steps now slowing to a crawl as he assesses the situation.
“Yeah,” the man, based on the sound of his voice, drawls as he reaches into his hoodie pocket. When he pulls his hand back out, the glint of something metal in his hand flickers in the moonlight. A knife. “I believe we were having a discussion earlier today that we didn’t get a chance to finish.”
Kaleb comes to an abrupt stop. Dust kicks up around his brown soled boots as he does.
I come to a stand still beside him, unsure what exactly to do.
This is bad. Very bad. I’m fairly certain that the guy now leaning against Kaleb’s truck is the same asshole from inside the store earlier, and the same one who tried to jump me last night?
He doesn’t even know me! He knows nothing about me other than my sexual orientation and yet he’s made it his mission of the week to stalk me, threaten me, harass me, and beat me.
Does this asshole have nothing better to do with his life than to be a complete and utter piece of shit to any random gays he finds around town?
Rage boils up inside me, coiling tightly in my chest and making my entire body feel as though it’s ready to combust.
“What’s your issue with me asshole?” I shout, surprising even myself with my boldness. “What have I ever done to you?”
With surprising speed, the homophobic fucker pushes off the car and closes the distance between us.
He brandishes the knife in a way that’s far too threatening for my liking.
The blade is long, jagged, and entirely terrifying.
I take a step backward out of instinct but Kaleb stays rooted to the spot.
“I’ve seen you around. You don’t even try to hide what a fucking faggot you are—“
He doesn’t get to finish his insult before Kaleb cuts him off with a low growl, “Watch your fucking language. I don’t tolerate that type of shit.”
“You’re just as sick then!” My villain yells at Kaleb, pointing the blade at his chest. “Defending an abomination like him.” He shifts the knife in his hand to point it toward me.
He seems young and uncertain but angry. The knife shakes slightly in his hand but he doesn't let it drop; hate, not reason, fuels his actions. Hate for what he doesn’t know, what he doesn’t understand, what he’s been told is evil.
I’m not evil though, I’m just a human like any other.
“We don’t want trouble,” I attempt while holding my hands up in surrender. “We just want to get home.”
It doesn’t work. He takes several aggressive steps toward me, getting close enough to make my knees threaten to buckle and my body to break out in a cold sweat. Kaleb shifts ever so slightly so that his body is angled between me and the attacker.
“Get out of the way! He needs to be taught how to act like a real man and not some ass-fucking little homo,” The man growls before making his move.
He attempts to go low, shooting out beneath Kaleb’s arms and swiping the sharpened steel at me.
I throw my arm in front of myself and jump backwards.
The sting of pain is sharp and intense as warmth pools along my skin where the knife sliced through my flesh.
A sharp hiss escapes my lips as I place my other hand along the bloodied wound.
The villain cackles at the sight of spilled blood, the sound echoing through the night.
“What then fuck?!” Kaleb roars before his large hand wraps around the other man’s throat. With unbelievable ease, he lifts my attacker and throws him to the ground.
Drops of red dot the dirt beneath my feet. Behind me I swear I can hear a voice whispering in the wind, calling out to me. Swirling shadows wrap around me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were licking at my oozing wound, savoring my pain.
“Fuck!” Kaleb’s scream pulls me from my own mind.
My friend and protector lies on the dirt below me, blood pooling around his fallen form. Sticking out of his side is the handle of the knife being shoved deeply into his flesh by our attacker. The hooded figure rises up to his full height. His wide and wicked smile shines in the moonlight.
He chuckles softly as his aggressive gaze lands on me. “No one left to save you now, queer.”