Point Pleasant (35 page)

When he woke up, the room was dark, and a blanket covered him. The weight of Nicholas’ arm over Ben’s chest was a reassurance in the darkness. Ben peered over at the clock beside the bed and squinted at the red glow of the numbers: 3:33 A.M.

Nicholas shifted in his sleep, unconsciously tightening his hold. Ben felt a slight ache, but it was a pleasant reminder of their earlier activities.

The light of the moon shone through the curtains just enough to bathe the room in a soft blue haze. Ben thought of the copy of
The Blue Tulip
in his father’s desk drawer. One of their last conversations had been about coffee.
Bitter as hell and twice as hot.
Cold rage settled in Ben’s chest.

The house was quiet, and Ben focused on the steady, rhythmic inhale and exhale of breath from the man at his side. The sound was like a soothing balm on a skinned knee.

The alarm clock by the bed crackled as if its radio had been turned on and was stuck between stations.

“
Hey, Benji, you awake?
” Andrew’s voice whispered.

An outbreak of goosebumps slithered across Ben’s bare arms, and he sat upright.

“Ben?” Nicholas mumbled.

Andrew’s voice laughed.

Nicholas sat up beside Ben and tensed. “What the hell is that?”

Ben eyed the radio and clenched his jaw.

“
You boys should be asleep,
” Andrew’s voice said. “
It’s way past your bedtime.
”

Nicholas leapt out of the bed and switched on the light. His eyes darted around the bedroom as if he was certain that the voice he recognized as Andrew Wisehart’s could not possibly be coming out of his digital alarm clock.

The time ticked over to 3:34.

“
I can sing you a lullaby, Benji. Maybe one your mama used to sing? How about ‘Tangled Up in Blue?
’”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ben said.

The clock radio released another hollow laugh. Nicholas grabbed its power cord and yanked it out of the wall socket. The clock’s illuminated numbers disappeared into the darkness.

“What the
fuck
?” Nicholas demanded.

Ben shook his head.

“Christ, Ben!” Nicholas exclaimed and pointed at the clock. “That was your
dad
!”

“That was
not
my dad, Nic.”

An unreadable expression crossed Nicholas’ face. He picked up the clock and strode to the window that looked out over the backyard. After a quick fumble with the lock, he forced the window up and threw the clock outside. There was a distant thump as it hit the ground.

Nicholas closed and re-locked the window with a heavy click of the latch. His shoulders were squared and tense as he stared out at the dark backyard.

Ben remained inert on the bed. Nicholas continued to stand by the window, his eyes narrowed and watchful.

“Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Come over here.”

Ben clambered out of bed, keenly aware of his own nakedness, and joined Nicholas by the window.

“What?”

Nicholas tilted his chin to indicate that Ben should check for himself. Ben peered out into the darkness, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Ten o’clock, by the shed” Nicholas whispered.

Ben squinted to see whatever Nicholas had observed. The backyard was small and neat. In the moonlight, Ben could see a work shed where Nicholas no doubt kept his lawnmower, hedge trimmers, and other such things. The shed was in the corner with its rear wall to the high fence that separated the yard from the next property.

Ben saw it.

There were two small red lights. On first glance, they looked like the reflection of taillights on glass, but Ben realized that there was nothing for the light to reflect against. The lights disappeared for a flicker of a second before the odd glow of scarlet flared once more.

Eyes. Blinking eyes.

Ben struggled to see what the eyes were attached to, but the shadows against the fence were too dark. A rustle of fabric drew his attention from the window, and he saw Nicholas had pulled on his jeans. The sheriff tore out of the room, and the sound of his feet thundered down the stairs.

Ben grabbed his own pants from the pile of discarded clothing on the floor. He hopped into them and darted into the hallway.

“Nic,” he whispered as he navigated the dark staircase.

Light flooded the entry hall. Ben squinted at the sudden brightness. Nicholas had pulled his Glock from the drawer in the table by the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ben demanded.

Nicholas cocked the handgun and brushed past Ben. “Stay inside,” he said as he walked through to the kitchen to the backdoor that led onto the yard.

“Fuck no, don’t you dare!”

Nicholas flipped on the floodlight, and the backyard was illuminated. He was outside before Ben could stop him.

The line of salt that Nicholas had set around the house stood out in stark contrast to the dark brickwork of the patio. Ben paused at its edge.

“Nic, goddamnit!”

“I said stay inside, Ben!” Nicholas crossed the line and strode across the yard with his gun raised.

“Fuck that,” Ben said and followed without thought. He crossed over the salt line to join Nicholas.

The grass was moist under Ben’s bare feet. Slick blades prickled through the gaps between his toes. Nicholas crept to the far end of the yard, and Ben trailed behind him. The sheriff trained the barrel of his gun to where they had just seen the thing by the shed only a moment before.

The area was desolate. Ben’s gaze raked the yard, and he turned so that his back was to Nicholas’.

Shadows loomed heavily around the shed, which was just out of reach of the floodlight’s reassuring beam. Nicholas edged closer to the rear of the structure where there was a space between it and the fence. The narrow gap was bereft.

Nicholas returned to the front of the shed and tilted his chin toward the door. Ben nodded, and Nicholas raised his gun higher and braced his feet against the ground. Ben stepped forward and reached for the latch. The metal was cold to his touch. Ben took a breath before he yanked the door open.

The shed was empty save for a lawnmower and some gardening equipment. The smell of gasoline and grass cuttings wafted out onto the night air. Nicholas lowered his gun.

“Let’s get inside,” he said.

Ben closed the shed door and secured the lock. They kept an eye out in either direction as they returned to the house, but the yard was devoid of the thing with red eyes.

Ben relaxed incrementally when they were both behind the relative safety of the salt line. Nicholas followed Ben into the kitchen and took a long moment to survey the yard again before he flicked off the light and closed and locked the door.

There was a gentle click as Nicholas slid the safety on his Glock into place, though he continued to clutch the grip.

“Let’s go back upstairs,” he said and offered his other hand. Ben took it and let Nicholas lead him up to the bedroom.

Nicholas stowed the gun on the nightstand and returned to the window. Finally, he yanked the curtains shut.

“It’s okay,” he said. It was unclear whether the sheriff was trying to comfort himself or Ben.

They stood in silence before Nicholas gestured to the bed. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t think I could.”

“Same,” Nicholas said as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, in that case, good morning,” Ben said and tried to smile.

Nicholas’ lips quirked slightly. “Good morning, Ben.” He closed the distance between them and brushed his right hand against Ben’s. “I’m gonna take a shower and get back downstairs,” he said. “You should join me.”

Moments later, they stood under a spray of water and assessed one another as they lathered up with shower gel.

Soapsuds trailed Nicholas’ taut abdomen. The frothy white bubbles stood in contrast to his tanned skin. His hands moved across his body in rough, jerky movements. They did not speak about the clock radio, the voice, or the thing by the shed.

Nicholas’ unease—a fissure in his foundation of reserved emotion and cool logic—permeated the air like the steam from the hot water overhead.

He stepped forward, and Ben met him in the middle. They clung to one another under the shower head.

It was quarter to five in the morning, and the sun had not yet risen. After the shower, they had both dressed in jeans and t-shirts, and Nicholas had remarked that Ben looked more like himself.

Ben was sprawled out on the sofa when Nicholas brought in two mugs of coffee. Ben sat up to take a mug when it was offered to him.

Nicholas sank down beside Ben and yawned. He drank his coffee and slipped an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “We should do that again.”

“Hunt a monster in your backyard?” Ben asked.

“The part before that, Wiseass.”

“I’m game.”

“I’m sure you are,” Nicholas said.

Ben chuckled and sipped his coffee; once again, it was the perfect balance of saccharine bitterness. He considered Nicholas for a moment and finally cleared his throat. “Have you ever…”

“Have I ever what?” Nicholas asked, tilting his head.

“Have you been with other guys before this? At all?”

Nicholas appeared thoughtful as he gave a gentle shake of his head. “No. Was it obvious?”

“Not at all,” Ben replied. “It was kind of amazing, Sheriff. But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why no other guys?”

“I never wanted to.” Nicholas shrugged in a show of discomfort. “To be honest, I haven’t been in anything too serious since Lily. It just never felt like the right fit with whoever I was with—” he paused and uttered a hollow laugh. “You know, the first woman I had sex with, she just made me feel so empty.”

“Who, Lily?”

“No, this was after Lily. She wanted to wait. For marriage, you know. Which was fine, but then I broke it off.”

“So what, you picked up someone at a bar?”

“Yeah,” Nicholas replied, and his voice had gone quiet.

Ben tilted his head. “Was it
that
bad?”

“I thought it would get my mind off you,” Nicholas started. Sadness curled at the edge of his lips. “You’d been gone for a while. I kept thinking you’d come back, but you didn’t. And then I thought—”

“You thought what, Nic?”

“I thought maybe it was all in my head, Maybe I was only thinking about you like that because you were gone. Maybe if you were here, I might not feel that way anymore.”

The words felt like a stab to Ben’s heart.

Nicholas gave another wretched smile. “It didn’t, of course. It just made me realize how much I wished it had been you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben whispered, and he moved closer. “I had no idea you—I didn’t know, Nic. Maybe I would have come back sooner if I had. I don’t know.”

“It’s not your fault, Ben.”

“It’s not your fault, either.”

They entertained a heavy silence until Nicholas finally sighed. “I suppose.”

“It happened, Nic. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Nicholas agreed. “I just wish we’d gotten here sooner. I hate knowing anyone else ever made you feel this way. Woke up beside you. Made you coffee. I wish—I wish it had been me this whole time.”

Nicholas turned away as if embarrassed by the revelation. Ben moved to sit up on his knees at Nicholas’ side.

“Nic,” he said, “Look at me.”

Nicholas glanced back after a few seconds, and Ben ached at the despondency he could read in the sheriff’s eyes.

“I’ve been with other people,” Ben said. “And so have you. We can think about how nice it would have been if it had only ever been me for you, or you for me, but it’ll only make us feel bad.”

Nicholas’ brow furrowed, but he nodded just the same.

“Anyway,” Ben continued, “no one, and I mean
no one
, has ever made me feel like
this
. No one has ever gotten the coffee-to-sugar ratio right the way you do. Without me even having to ask, no less. I’ve been with other people, but every relationship I’ve ever had ended when I knew that they could never be you, you overgrown Boy Scout. I don’t have some long history of amazing love stories. You’re the beginning and the very fucking end for me. You always have been.”

Nicholas was silent for a long moment after Ben finished. When he did speak, his voice was a whisper.

“Please don’t leave. When all this is over, please don’t go. After last night, especially, I—” He trailed off and seemed to struggle for his words. “It’s taken so long for us both to get here. I’d like to stay here. With you.”

The idea that Ben’s first time with Nicholas could mark his
last
first time with anyone filled him with a warmth he could not articulate. He
liked
the idea regardless of how naïve it might seem.

“Nic,” Ben said, and something in his tone made Nicholas look away again. “No, hey, it’s complicated because I live in Boston. I have a life there even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like much of one. But we have a lot to figure out before I can just say ‘what the hell’ and move back here.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s say we make it through this whole fucked up situation with the shit in the forest,” Ben started, “which, we really need to talk about, by the way.”

“Not right now,” Nicholas said as if the issue was the least of his concerns. “What do we need to figure out?”

“Say I did move back. What happens with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, would we be together?”

“Of course we would be. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Ben frowned at Nicholas’ unflinching response. “This is West Virginia. How are people going to feel about an openly gay sheriff? I mean, I don’t know if that’s how you identify, but it’s what people will say. You love your job, I get that. And I don’t want to ruin that for you.”

“You idiot,” Nicholas said. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“I’m serious, Nic.”

“Ben, I don’t give a fuck how people
feel
. Do you really think I’d let something like that be the reason we aren’t together when I’ve spent the last decade of my life wishing more than anything that I had said something different, something that would have made you stay in the first place?”