Chapter 19
Nineteen
Corey
Being kidnapped is a surprisingly quick process. We did as we were told, like we always did before with these two. Honestly, I’d been surprised by how much the slide back into the Corey I was before hurt. It felt like a million tiny papercuts.
As I was driven back to a place I thought I’d escaped for good, I thought of the time I spent with John, being cared for indirectly and from a distance, the way Emma decided we were going to be friends and dragged me along for the ride, the way Rain reached out to me and brought me to a safe place, and the way Aidan took me into the fold of his family and his home.
And Nash. I couldn’t think about Nash and all the ways he’s helped me move forward from this scared, pathetic, weak version of myself without even knowing it, or I would have splintered completely.
Just him being there, listening to me as I sorted through my thoughts over text, showing me how beautiful friendship and family can be, holding my hand as I cried, and being scared for me when I jumped from the frying pan into the fire – literally.
And yet still, despite all of that support, all of that time spent trying to be better, it all feels like a giant waste of time as I sit on the edge of the bed in Dan’s spare room staring out of the window.
He locked us in here hours ago, and ever since I heard the bolt clunk and the padlock click, the sounds muffled through the door, I’ve been sitting here with a million thoughts spiralling through my brain, and absolutely zero conclusions being made.
I jump when Rain’s sleeve touches my face, and I realise he’s sitting next to me, wiping away my tears.
“Hey,” Rain says quietly.
“Hey,” I reply, my voice shaky.
“How’re you doing?”
My tears start falling again, and I shake my head, defeat drowning me. “I really thought I’d got away. You know?” Rain wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him for a hug.
“You did, babe, you did get away. And we’re going to again if I have to die trying.
And this time, we’re going to the police.
They might not believe us, they might say bullshit like it’s a hazard of a gay relationship, or our reports may sit idly in an in-tray for months or whatever, but we will tell them.
And we will do what we can to protect ourselves from having to deal with this shit again.
” Rain squeezes my shoulders to make sure I’m hearing him.
I can barely breathe around the lump in my throat, so my voice is quiet when, after a few minutes of silence, I say, “I was really looking forward to showing Nancy that painting I did.” The tears won’t stop despite my attempts to wipe them away.
“Did you show Nash?”
“Of course. Well, I finished it and then left, and then he texted me later when he went in there. I didn’t like, do a Carol Smillie on Changing Rooms big reveal moment or anything.” He laughs at me, and the sound lightens a little of the weight in my chest.
“Whyever not? He’d probably have thanked you very nicely.” I scoff out a laugh of my own. This is why I love Rain. He can make even the most dire of situations feel better just by being himself.
“Nash has a lot going on right now. I thought maybe we could… But—” I grit my teeth, the pain of being ghosted for weeks colliding with the sadness of our situation, what we both finally confessed we wanted but couldn’t have.
“Anyway, he hasn’t done anything except give me a physical after we put out that bloody fire. ”
It’s almost true. He did check me over while we were waiting for the police that night.
After that, I didn’t see him again until Christmas, my text messages going unanswered until I finally got the hint and stopped sending them.
Even since then, the only conversation we’ve had has been one we both came out of bruised and a little battered.
And a lot disappointed.
“Yeah, I’ll bet he wants to give you more than a physical.
” We look at each other and burst out laughing, before we both glance at the door and shush each other.
Rain maintains eye contact with me, and I can almost hear him willing me not to give up.
Not to give up on the future I saw for myself, however briefly.
Not to give up on what I want. Not to give up on myself.
Seeing my best friend’s support and eagerness for me to find the level of happiness that he has, I feel a spark of determination kindle in my gut.
I want to get out of here and not simply accept that my life is controlled by someone else.
I want to get help to deal with all of the shit I’ve carried on my own for too long.
I want to become a better man for myself, and not for anyone else.
Because I deserve to be happy. I deserve to be healthy. And I deserve to build a life full of value, meaning, and joy. And goddammit, I’m going to do everything in my power to have it.
And I want to get back to Nash, so I can tell him exactly how I feel, and what I need with no grey areas, and no assumptions.
Who knows, communication might be just as sexy as competence.
“OK, babe,” Rain says, apparently having seen a shift in my demeanour. “Are you with me now?” I look at my friend, determination flooding my body.
“Yes. I’m with you. What’s the plan?”
Over the next two days, we fine-tune each and every step we will take as soon as that bloody door is opened. Dan’s managed to push a few meagre meals through the door in that time but has been careful not to open it wide, and he hasn’t come in.
When we hear the padlock rattle, the reality of our crazy, stupid, reckless, almost certainly doomed-to-fail plan hits me, and I have a momentary crisis of confidence that I can’t go through with it.
But one look at Rain, and the hope, determination, and rage on his face is enough to snap me back on track.
I sit on the stool in front of the dressing table and look out the window while Rain is on the bed leaning against the headboard.
“Morning, sugar.” Dan’s saccharine voice slinks into the room like a snake in the air, and I feel a shiver going down my spine despite the oppressive heat in this room.
Part one of our plan was to make the room so disgustingly hot that the first thing Dan does is remove his ever-present suit jacket, so I can grab his phone, and he does exactly that.
“I figure that since you’ve had a few days to calm down, now you’ll understand why I had to do this? ”
And there it is, the opening we’ve been looking for. As I sneak Dan’s phone from his pocket, unlocking it with the code Rain told me and that he, thank fuck, hasn’t changed, I start recording.
Everything is going to plan until the words shift to violence.
Dan backhands Rain across the face, and I’m about to step in to try and do…
something, when Rain shakes his head imperceptibly at me, his eyes telling me to keep recording, as he spits out every word he’s ever held back from this vicious man.
Small. Petty. Weak. Nothing.
I’ve just sent the recordings to my phone and Rain’s, which are both still at home, when Dan roars a guttural cry and starts wailing on my friend.
He’s lost any tenuous hold on his remaining sanity, and Rain is going to be seriously hurt.
I won’t stand by and let it happen. I pocket Dan’s phone and move toward the bed.
At that precise moment, the thunder of boots and shouts of “Police” carry through the open bedroom door, and in what feels like both a nano-second and an age, a squad of police officers barrel into the room and drag Dan away from Rain, cuffing his violent hands behind his back as he screams vitriol at both of us the whole time he’s being arrested.
And then… finally, it’s over.
It’s truly over.
***
Only… It’s not over.
That reality hit me almost as soon as we were bundled into ambulances and brought to the hospital.
Rain was taken first since he was the one who’d been beaten…
again. I stayed behind and answered the police’s questions, showed them the video I’d taken, and was admittedly relieved when I recognised DI Martin when he arrived soon after the ambulance carrying Rain had driven off.
But even though this ordeal is over, Dominic wasn’t at the flat that day because, according to DI Martin, he’s run off and hidden like the coward he is.
He must have seen or heard something he suspected meant the police were closing in, and rather than face the music or stand beside his precious brother, he’s fucked off somewhere the police can’t trace him.
“We’ve applied for a Non-Molestation Order for you, Corey,” DI Martin explained, “But we need to wait for the judge to sign off on it. It should be pretty simple, but we have a few steps to take before that will happen. OK?”
I’d nodded numbly, the reality of my situation landing like lead in my belly.
Dominic knows where I’ve been living. He and his brother have already committed arson and kidnapping, not to mention serious assault, animal endangerment, and fuck knows what else in their misguided – psychotic – attempts to get Rain and me to return to London with them like nothing has happened. God knows what lengths he’ll go to now.
And yes, Dan has been arrested, so hopefully, at least Rain can go home safely and not have to worry anymore. But I know Dominic. He’s like a rabid dog with a bone. He hates to lose, and he won’t give up. He’ll turn up at some random time when I least expect it.
I know he will.
And I refuse to let anyone else get caught in the crosshairs of his delusions.
It’s all very clear to me now. What I have to do.
No matter what or who I might want in my life, no matter the future I choose for myself, none of it is possible while he’s still lurking around like a bad smell.