49. Chapter 49
Justin
Everything happens so fast that it leaves me completely disoriented.
One moment, I’m on Cameron’s bed, floating in that sweet weightless state where nothing matters. Strands of a flogger are biting me in the best way possible, and Cameron is telling me I’m beautiful.
The next moment, someone is grabbing me, pushing me, making me move even when my limbs feel like they’re made of lead.
There’s a crinkly blanket wrapped around me that feels strange against my skin.
Someone is shouting. Actually, there’s a lot of shouting.
I duck my head and try to make myself smaller, hoping that whoever’s shouting isn’t mad at me.
A voice keeps repeating that I’m safe, which is a lie, because I don’t see Cameron.
Cold air bites into my exposed skin. I grimace as my feet hit gravel. There’s less shouting out here, but a lot more flashing lights. They lead me toward them and let me sit down, but then someone is shining light straight into my eyes. I bat the annoying light away.
“Hold him, please. He’s in shock.”
Someone grabs my hands, and the light returns. I give up trying to escape it. “Where’s Cameron?”
“You’re safe,” the voice repeats once again. “He’s never going to touch you again.”
“What?” He’s never going to touch me again?
Does he not want me anymore? He said I was his forever.
I want him back. “Where is he?” My mind is racing, thoughts too fast to grab.
The flashing lights are sending jolts of pain through my head.
Someone’s holding me, but it’s not Cameron.
Where is he? He promised he wouldn’t let anyone take me.
“Hey, stay with me, okay?” The voice belongs to an older man. He’s the one gently holding my wrists.
I’m not safe. I want to go back. “I need to go back.”
“You’re not going back. We’ve got you now. You’re safe,” the man repeats like a freaking broken record.
“I’m not safe! I want to go back home.” What is happening? I feel like if I could calm down, it would become obvious, but the panic clouds my mind. My chest constricts. I can’t breathe.
“Yes, home,” the man says softly. “We’ll take you home.” Before I can start feeling relieved, he swiftly crushes my hopes. “Back to your family.”
My parents. Their image is a little blurry in my mind’s eye, like an old memory.
Fear is the first thing that registers as I think about them.
I’ve changed. I’m not the same Justin I used to be, and they didn’t even like him.
They’ll never understand. They’ll hate me.
“I want Cameron.” Why doesn’t he want me anymore? Does he hate me too?
The man holding me glances at the man with the light. “Hey, I think we might need something to calm him down.”
They want to drug me. The panic is back. Like a rising tide, it washes over me, drowning me under its intensity.
“No!”
I yank my hands out of the man’s grip and shove at him.
He stumbles back. Before he can grab me again, I dart to the side, but the ground isn’t where I expect it to be.
I fall, scraping both my knees on the gravel.
Fueled by terror, I scramble back to my feet and take off between the cars. The shouts follow me.
“Stop him!”
“Juarez, what the fuck?!”
Someone wraps an arm around my waist. I fight back, but with my arms pinned to my sides, there’s not much I can do. Not when the person holding me is bigger and stronger. Not as big or strong as Cameron. Their smell is also wrong.
“Let me go!” I scream and thrash in the stranger’s grip.
“Hey, calm down. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I scream again. Why do they keep saying I’m safe when I’m not?!
“Where’s the medic?” the man holding me calls out. “Hurry!”
More people appear. I kick one in the stomach when he approaches, but more take his place. They’re cursing now, yelling at each other to hold me down. I can barely hear them over my own screams. They push me on the grass, their weight heavy over me. But not safe. Never safe.
Something sharp pricks my shoulder.
“There. Everything’s going to be okay, buddy.
We’ll take care of you.” The man sounds winded, and I can’t help but feel a little proud.
I might not have won, but at least I didn’t go down without a fight.
Would Cameron be proud of me? Or did he give me away to these people and he’ll be mad that I didn’t obey them? I don’t want him to be angry with me.
“Where’s… Cameron?” My tongue feels thick and heavy, too big for my mouth. My eyes are drifting shut despite my best effort to stay awake.
“Jesus. Poor kid. I hope the bastard rots in jail.”
I want to protest, to defend Cameron, but my mouth won’t open again, and neither will my eyes. A little nap. I’ll take a little nap, then I’ll keep fighting.
***
I wake up in a soft bed, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic. There’s no beeping, but I feel the pressure of a clip on my index finger. My limbs are still heavy, but my head is surprisingly clear. Clear enough for me to realize what happened.
I’m in a hospital. The people who came to Cameron’s house were the police, which means…
Fuck.
Did they arrest Cameron? My stomach drops. There were so many guns and shouting, but I don’t remember shots being fired, so he must be okay. In custody, probably, but unharmed.
He has to be okay.
I draw in a deep breath, the sharp hospital smell making me bristle. It brings bad memories.
A helpless little boy on a big hospital bed, crying for his mom and coughing so hard he struggles to breathe.
A slightly older boy, not crying anymore, just staring numbly at the wall.
Needles. So many fucking needles.
No. I need to focus. I might have been sick and helpless as a kid, but I’m not a child anymore. Cameron’s in trouble, and I need to help him.
“Hello?” The word tastes like gravel poured down my throat. Light spears through my head the moment I try opening my eyes.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” someone says softly. A straw touches my lips and I drink greedily, washing down the painful dryness in my throat.
I manage to open my eyes, even if they burn. Through the tears, I see the blurred figure of an older nurse. She’s giving me a motherly smile. “Don’t strain yourself too much. You must be exhausted.”
I am, but that doesn’t mean I get to rest just yet. “What happened?”
“You’re at the hospital. You’re safe.”
Again with this bullshit. I want to scream, but this lovely old lady doesn’t deserve that. I’ll save it for the cops. “Where’s Cameron?”
Her expression shifts to something guarded.
“The police are handling that. You focus on getting better now.” She checks on the machines by my bed and writes something down in a chart.
“There’s a detective here who’s asking to speak with you.
You’re not obligated to talk to him right now, okay? We can tell him to come back later.”
“Absolutely not. I want to speak to him now.” I bet it’s the asshole who framed Cameron.
The nurse frowns. “Are you sure? You should rest first. The detective can wait.”
“I’m fine. Just… help me sit up, please?” If there’s a confrontation coming, I don’t want to be at a disadvantage from lying down while the cops loom over me.
The nurse shows me how to use the bed controls. Once I’m sitting comfortably, sipping water from a fresh cup, she opens the door. “He needs to rest,” she tells the man waiting outside. “So be quick and don’t upset him.”
“Of course.” The man bares his teeth in a completely fake smile. “Thank you.”
As soon as she leaves, the detective approaches me, still wearing that creepy smile. I can tell it’s supposed to be comforting, but even without Cameron telling me about him, something about the detective would set my teeth on edge.
“Mr. Palmer,” he says, “I’m detective Small. Thank you for agreeing to speak to me. I understand you must be shaken after everything that’s happened, and I assure you that you’re safe now. I just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Shaken.” I scoff. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Yes, what you went through was very traumatizing.”
I know he’s alluding to Cameron holding me captive.
If I confirm it, he’ll use my testimony to lock Cameron away.
If I don’t, I’ll be lying to the police.
Is that a crime? I bet it is. Cameron is technically a criminal, and if I cover for him, it’ll make me his accomplice.
Can I be put on trial for covering up my own kidnapping?
It sounds ridiculous, but with our justice system, it wouldn’t surprise me.
It doesn’t matter. I’m not speaking against Cameron.
I level Small with a hard look. “Yes, the police storming my boyfriend’s house, dragging him off in handcuffs, and drugging me was very traumatizing. Care to explain that, Detective?”
“It… That wasn’t… Did you just say your boyfriend?”
“Yes.” I pray my embarrassment isn’t showing on my face. Cameron and I aren’t exactly boyfriends, but it’s the most normal description of our relationship I could come up with.
I keep staring at Small, projecting confidence I don’t feel. “Cameron Matthews is my partner. Last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal. Not anymore, at least.” It’s funny. A month ago, I didn't even know I was bisexual, and now I’m using it to manipulate a cop.
Small’s cheek twitches. He keeps his expression smooth and friendly, but I can see the tension in his body.
This conversation isn’t going according to his plan.
“Mr. Palmer, I understand your confusion. I can’t even imagine what Cameron Matthews put you through, and I’m very sorry that happened to you.
I assure you, he cannot touch you anymore.
You’re completely safe from him. There’s no need to fear his retribution. You can tell the truth.”
“I am telling the truth. I’m not afraid of Cameron.” That’s not even a lie. Small’s composure cracks a little more as he sees the truth in my eyes. “He’s my boyfriend.”