Chapter Twenty

Alex

T he warmth of the car and the rhythmic rumble of the tyres on the deserted motorway soon made me sleepy. My eyelids kept drooping shut, then I’d jerk myself awake and look at him, feeling guilty.

He glanced at me, catching me fighting myself. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Go to sleep then, we’ve got a long drive.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He flicked on the wipers as a flurry of snow started.

“You’ve just said it yourself. It’s a long drive. We should share the driving. You had a late night too.”

He shot another look at me. “And I’m fine. Why would I make you drive when you’re tired?”

He fixed his gaze back on the road and I looked at his strong, handsome profile. “But…”

Lucas reached for my knee. Warm fingers squeezed gently. Without taking his eyes from the grey stretch of empty motorway in front of us, he said, “Just relax. That’s all I want you to do. Let me be your chauffeur and rest while you can before you have to go back to work. This car isn’t familiar to you and the weather’s bad. You don’t need that stress.” His tone was as gentle as his touch. I swallowed, moved. There were such layers to this man. He was kind, generous and sensitive. He had a firm set of morals and wouldn’t tolerate the sort of behaviour he’d witnessed in the restaurant with Bill groping me.

But we hadn’t even scraped the surface of his childhood. And then there was the attack on him a year ago. I suspected a broken child lay below his confidence, causing him to reject people. Somehow he’d trusted me though. What was it about me? Perhaps he didn’t feel threatened because of my age and social status. Perhaps I set him at ease. I hope he found me as kind and sensitive as I found him, because it was the sort of person I strived to be. And more than anything, I wanted to be that person for him.

He looked at me again when I was silent. “Can I interest you in coming home with me?” he asked.

A shiver snaked through me. Was the Pope Catholic? I thought of that warm, comfortable house. The reading chair in front of the fire in the library. The big comfortable bed and fluffy pillows. The feel of his body pressed against mine. I wanted it. I wanted it all.

“I have to work tomorrow,” I said, as though that was some kind of obstacle. “We’re open for lunch.” Was I making excuses? I didn’t know.

He nodded without taking his eyes from the road. “We could get some stuff from your flat when we get back. Your uniform. Then I could drop you at work tomorrow.”

I swallowed. He wanted me. Actually wanted me. We had survived a trip to my parents after one night together and now he planned to extend that. I was the luckiest man in the world. My voice was hoarse when I spoke and I had to clear my throat. “I’d like that.”

He flashed me a smile and squeezed my knee again. “Now rest.”

I leaned my head back, warm and cosy and soporific, and let my eyes close. I was frightened by how happy I felt.

I woke when I felt the car slowing, then turning, before rumbling to a halt. The engine went off and I opened my eyes. Lucas was looking at me. “Sorry to disturb you. Just needed a wee break.”

I looked around me. We were at a services, not too many cars parked up. I nodded. “I’ll come too.” I shrugged into my coat and opened my door, feeling groggy and thirsty.

The air was bitingly cold, our breath making plumes as we walked side by side over to the entrance. His hand brushed mine, one finger curling around my index finger before moving away. I felt a strange sense of pride when a guy gave Lucas a second look. He was with me . I had hooked this amazing man. I didn’t know how. My spirits sank a little when I asked myself again what I had to offer him. He just wanted a fling with young flesh, didn’t he? We had nothing in common and couldn’t aim for an actual relationship. He was ageing and wanted to make himself feel better. People would call him my sugar daddy and say I was only with him for his money. Although he was so good looking, they had to realise that could never be the case. I followed him into the toilets and chose a cubicle rather than a urinal. He did the same. I could see his smart black shoes under the partition next to me as I peed. When I tucked myself away, my dick was starting to harden. I was thinking about kinky public sex. I didn’t know why. Why would I want to have him in the goddamn services when he had that amazing bed waiting for us at home? I heard him flush and exit the cubicle and I followed suit. We stood side by side at the sinks washing our hands. Then we moved to a dryer each and let the water evaporate while the hot air warmed us up. I glanced at him when his dryer shut off. He turned to me, cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed me.

I was hesitant, but he obviously didn’t care and besides, I’m sure the bathroom was empty. He caressed my lips gently, taking his time, giving me more than a peck. I softened against him, sliding a hand around his neck, pressing myself to him.

I heard footsteps then, more than one set. We broke apart as someone shouted, “What the fuck is going on here?”

My heart sank. Four youths in tracksuits and baseball caps had entered the bathroom and didn’t like what they saw. The bloke at the front must have been the leader, the one who’d spoken. A gobby spotty guy of about twenty, his face red and twisted in disgust.

“It’s a fucking public toilet, mate, not a gay knocking shop.” He seemed to be addressing Lucas. “Is this your fucking rent boy and are you George Michael?”

I blushed and started to shake. This kid was surely too young to remember poor George’s indiscretions. How I’d loved him and how broken hearted I’d been when he died. We had lost such a great talent and we would never see its like again.

Lucas squared his shoulders, his impressive height taller than any of the youths. “He’s not a rent boy, he’s my partner and I was kissing him, which isn’t a crime.”

I nearly gulped. I felt fragile and diminished under four lots of angry stares, all the men glaring at me with disdain and hatred. It wasn’t the first time I had faced this, but it was the first time in an enclosed space where I couldn’t run away and I would have to fight. I didn’t fight. That wasn’t me. Now it seemed I had no choice.

Spotty gobby guy laughed. “Fucking partner ? Partner in what? Gay orgies in service bogs?”

I was sure they could see me shrivelling under their eyes. I moved closer to Lucas, like a cowering animal.

“Turn around and walk away.” Lucas’s voice was steady and betrayed no nerves. I couldn’t believe how composed he was. Had he faced this sort of thing before? Was he used to four against two brawls in public toilets?

“Not going to happen mate.” Spotty looked at his compadres. “We’re going to teach you a lesson, you disgusting little queers.”

My legs started to shake at that. I cursed my cowardice and my foolishness for kissing Lucas in public. For forgetting that not everyone was okay with how I lived my life.

I gaped at Lucas when he said, “Bring it on.” And when Spotty stepped forward, Lucas caught him by the arm, spun him around and twisted it up his back, causing the ringleader to cry out a string of curses. Lucas shoved him forward into his friends and they all roared then, coming at us.

I danced back when a fist flew my way but another one of the lads caught me in a headlock, squeezing hard before landing a blow above my ear. For a moment everything went silent and my vision swam. Then sound crashed back in, my ears ringing, the bathroom filled with grunts and shouts and fists and boots colliding. I dropped to my knees and someone caught me under the chin. Then I was on my back, head bumping the wall, senses spinning. I saw a foot coming towards my ribs and I grabbed the perpetrator’s ankle and yanked as hard as I could. The little scrote fell over me, cursing, and I swung my arm and punched him in the bollocks. He creased in two with a groan and fell by my side, curled up in a ball and retching.

I heard a cry. “I’ve phoned the police!”

A smallish elderly man stood by the door. His words stopped the action and turned my gaze fearfully to Lucas. He was taking on two of the gang, while one lay out of commission by the sinks. His cheek was red and beginning to bloom with a bruise and his lip was bleeding but he looked better than the others, one of whom was clutching his stomach, the other who had a wound above his eye streaming blood. Lucas stood with fists raised like a boxer. His stance was secure, strong and confident. He seemed as far from that man he had described to me a year ago as it was possible to get. The man who had been held down by four men and assaulted. I felt pride and warmth swell my chest. Lucas glanced over at me as the gang started to regroup and head towards the door. He hurried over and helped me to my feet, brushing a hand over the sore bits on my face.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, holding onto him as a wave of nausea swam through me.

“Do you need an ambulance?” The man at the door asked fearfully, watching us.

Lucas shook his head. “We’re all right.”

“What’s wrong with people?” The man uttered the question that I asked myself every day. The reason why I didn’t watch the news, when it was filled with murder, child abuse, animal cruelty, destruction and war. The world was getting worse and worse and I no longer wanted to be a part of it.