Chapter Eighteen | Jamal

The grilled cheese sandwich sizzled in the frying pan, the butter turning it golden brown. It was the first of many. There were quite a few hungry mouths at the centre today. I'd managed to work a deal with a local grocery store whereby I could get the groceries I needed to feed the kids at a discount. It was a fabulous win. I was keeping the food simple, which most of them preferred.

"Not quite so much butter," I said to Avery, who was helping me.

I slid the cooked sandwich onto a plate, cut it in thirds, put the next piece of bread facedown in the pan, added the cheese, and capped it off with another piece of buttered bread.

To keep the gooey cheese sandwiches from getting cold, Avery was charged with ferrying them over to the table as we made them. I would keep making more until the kids slowed down.

After the tenth sandwich hit the table, it looked like they'd had enough. I clicked off the stove and rolled my wheelchair around to face the table. "Amber, can you wash up, please?"

"Sure thing, Mr. K."

"Thank you."

I left the kitchen and contemplated my next move. I'd seen Noah coming in for his volunteer shift. I checked the gym first, but he wasn't there, so I headed for the library.

He was sitting on the floor beside Kyle, leaning against the wall. They were both absorbed in their books. I rolled closer to them and Noah looked up at me .

"Can I talk to you?" I asked him, gathering my nerve. I needed to know.

"Sure." He set his book aside and rose to his feet. He followed me to the other side of the library where we could talk in private. "What's up?"

My heart thudded around like a caged badger. "Can you tell me what's going on with Liam?"

I knew I was asking a lot of Noah. Liam was his best friend. Noah might want to protect him and what he was going through. If it was none of my business, Noah would say so.

"Honestly … he's suffering. He doesn't know what to do with what you told him."

"Did he tell you?"

"What you told him? Not really. But he's pretty torn up about the whole thing."

"Is he working toward any conclusions?"

"Not yet. He's having trouble getting over the fact you didn't come to him sooner."

"I was scared."

"He's figured that out, but I think you bruised the image of what you two had together."

"He's special. I've never connected to someone as much as I have with Liam."

Noah folded his arms. "I'm telling you this in confidence. It's not like Liam to have big feelings for someone … but he has them for you."

My heart thudded even harder.

Does he love me?

Noah put his hand on my shoulder. "Give him time. I think he'll come around." Then he left me to immerse myself in the stunning possibility Liam might come back to me.

I needed to be patient.

After rolling out of the library, I went to my office. I wanted to write a list of supplies so the kids could make posters for an upcoming winter dance we were planning. Avery was sitting on the chair in front of my desk waiting for me to return.

"What can I help you with?" I asked them.

Avery looked down at their hands. "Things aren't great at home."

"What's going on?"

"I came out to my parents as enby. They'd never even heard the word before." They looked up at me. "I had to explain it to them. They were silent at first … then they exploded."

I furrowed my brow. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, just a whole lot of yelling at me." Tears rimmed Avery's eyes. "They've threatened to kick me out of the house if I don't stop this nonsense . I don't know what to do."

Fuck.

We had a few kids who lived on the streets. It was a hard and dangerous place to be for a young person. They were often exploited and sold their bodies for money for food.

Avery wouldn't last long out there before they turned to drugs to lessen the anguish and feelings of abandonment. They were a tender soul. I wouldn't let it come to that.

"Come straight to me if they kick you out. I'm working on permission to operate a youth shelter. You could stay here. I've ordered all the bunkbeds already. It won't be long."

I'd started the application months ago. I'd been assured when I phoned recently that it was a matter of days until it was approved. I'd need to provide three meals a day for each youth but running a shelter opened us up for more funding. I had hope it would be enough.

Later that night when I was in bed, I couldn't sleep. Avery and Liam were on my mind. I could hear Meera bumping around in her kitchen. I hadn't confided in her yet. I'd brushed her off when I threw my wheelchair down the stairs. It wasn't like me to not talk to her .

I transferred into my wheelchair, pulled on a t-shirt, wheeled into the front entry, and knocked on her door. She was pleased to see me, her smile bright. "Do you want some tea?"

I followed Meera into her apartment. "If you have some decaf, sure."

"I'm making chamomile."

"Perfect."

She removed two cups from the cupboard and dropped teabags into them. The kettle was already spitting out steam and water droplets. She filled each cup with hot water.

"Are you ready to tell me what's going on?" Meera asked.

"I need your advice." We headed for her living room which was a mix of antique and ultra modern furnishings. It worked. I always felt comfortable here. She set my cup on a coffee table.

"I'll do my best."

"I broke up with Liam."

Meera's eyebrows shot up. "Why on earth would you do that? You adore him."

"I was afraid he'd find out about my conviction."

Now she frowned. "You would need to have that conversation with him eventually."

"I know, but I was scared of losing him."

"So … you broke up with him?"

"Don't get on my case. I know it makes no sense." I lifted my tea and held the hot cup in my hands, warming them. "A few days ago, I told Liam what happened with Richard, how I treated him, and about my assault conviction. He said he needed to think about it."

"Well, that's more promising than him telling you to fuck off."

"Maybe he should. I didn't come to him when I should have. His birth father came to see me. He knew about my conviction and threatened to tell Liam if I didn't break up with him."

"Why would he care about you being with Liam?"

"Take your pick. Sexuality, race, occupation, or disability. Most likely all of the above."

"And that's why you broke up with him."

"I was wrong to do it. I should have gone straight to Liam and told him everything."

"That would have been the right thing to do."

"I know." I took a sip of my tea. The earthy essence reminded me of the taste of Liam's skin. "I spoke to Noah today. He told me Liam was suffering. That he doesn't know what to do."

"That means he hasn't decided to walk away. That's good news."

I sighed and set my cup back on the coffee table. "I'm in love with him, Meera."

"Oh, wow … so soon?"

"I think I fell in love with Liam the first time we ever spoke. While we were at Noah's wedding. There was something about his gentle nature that hooked my soul from the start. After following him on social media, showing off his body, he wasn't what I'd been expecting. I thought I was about to engage with someone who would want to talk about mindless things. Instead, he asked me about the youth centre. Told me how much he admired me for the work I did.

"Then we went to the museum together and I realized how complex he is. The conversations between us were meaningful and honest. We shared openly about our lives. Built the beginnings of a bond. He's the sweetest most caring and loving man I've ever encountered. Seeing him interacting with you and the rest of the family sealed it for me. I could imagine a future with Liam. "

Meera patted me on my thigh. "You need to figure out what you're going to do with that."

"What can I do? I've laid every single one of my baggage cards on the table. This is his decision. Whether my not trusting him is a deal breaker or not. All I can do is wait."

"You're too passive. If it were me, I'd go after him. Tell him I love him."

Meera had a point, but the truth was, "I'm not confident enough to put myself out there."

"You're worried he doesn't feel the same way?"

"I am." I looked out through Meera's front window. The streetlight was offering enough light to illuminate the rain drumming down. Noah had said Liam had big feelings for me.

Was I brave enough to take a chance?

To go after the man I loved.

I finished my tea, went back to my room, and drained my bladder. The old wheelchair David had retrieved from the garage for me was heavy and awkward. It made everything more difficult. My biceps were sore, and I practically bashed into the doorframe trying to get out of the bathroom.

I parked my chair near the edge of my bed and transferred onto the mattress. The bedding was thick and welcoming against the winter weather. It would soon be Christmas.

I had imagined spending it with Liam.

As I lay there, I toyed with the idea of calling my volunteers and asking them to cover for me so I could take a few days off. I wanted to hide in my bed and wait for some kind of bravery to find me. I knew I didn't have that option. The kids at the youth centre needed me.

I would have to find that bravery on my own.

The youth centre was quiet. All the kids and volunteers had left for the day, giving me the chance to hole up in my office and get some paperwork done. It seemed the bulk of my job was applying for grants from the government and private industry. Without their monetary contributions, the Rainbow Youth Centre would cease to exist. We had private donors and reduced rent on the building, but we were always one donation away from closure.

I heard the front doors slam shut. I hadn't locked them yet. It was an oversight on my part, I was so distracted. It was a safe neighbourhood, but you never knew who was going to wander in off the street. We didn't have many homeless in the area, but there were some.

My office door burst open, and my heart skipped into rapid panic. Standing in my doorway was a tall broad man I'd never seen before. He was wearing paint-splotched jeans and a thick plaid jacket. The expression on his face—pure hatred.

His lips pulled up in a sneer. "Found you, you little freak."

I swallowed and tried to collect the downpour of fear that spilled into my gut. This wasn't going to end well. I could feel it in the tips of my fingers, but I tried to diffuse the situation.

"Can I help you with something?"

"You." He thrust his pointed finger at me, his eyes wild with fury. "You and everyone here are fucking pedophiles and child butchers!" He stepped closer to me, making my pulse jump. "You've been grooming my son! Confusing him! Making him think he's a girl!"

I struggled to breathe.

He took a glance around my office. I became very aware the walls were covered in various pride flags. He surged closer and hissed in my face. "You fucking disgust me."

I gripped the armrests of my chair, knowing there was no way for me to escape. I was trapped by my wheelchair and the confines of my desk. "We're only here to support the kids. "

Not sure why I was telling him this. I knew he wouldn't care. I'd dealt with angry homophobic parents before, but none had ever come at me with such menace.

Sweat broke out on my brow and upper lip.

I was terrified.

"I know exactly what you're doing," he ranted. "You lure kids in here so you can turn them into fucking queers." He shoved my wheelchair until it smashed into the wall behind me.

My lungs and heart could no longer hold a steady rhythm. I gasped, attempting to find purchase on a breath while my torso quaked and contracted and my fingers and jawline went numb. My thighs pumped jerkily, my knees kicking my calves, so my shoes banged on the footrests.

There was a shadow.

He loomed over me and put his hand around my throat.

Jeezus.

"Stop." I gripped his arm and scrabbled at it to try to pull him away. I dug in my fingers, my nails scratching his skin, but he didn't care. He was fucking choking me.

Tears ran down my cheeks.

My legs danced a chaotic jig as I clawed at his flesh. I felt like a marionette on a string.

"You bring them in here and manipulate them! Your kind can't have kids, so you have to recruit ours! The whole lot of you should get the death penalty!"

I sucked in the best breath I could manage. My temples pounded. I fought harder, prying at his fingers and shoving his chest. In an instant, he withdrew, leaving me gasping for air.

He grabbed one armrest of my wheelchair with both hands and set his stance.

Please, no.

He hauled on my chair and sent me crashing onto the floor. "Fucking crippled faggot! "

Fiery pain shot through my shoulder and across my back. I couldn't move to avoid him, but I tried to protect myself with one hand as his hard boot slammed into my gut.

A new kind of agony radiated up my chest and into my spine and groin.

"Stay away from Peter!"

I pressed my cheek against the floor, clutching at the gritty wooden planks to ground myself as he left me to spiral off an adrenaline high and plunge into the icy pools of cognition.

I could have died.

The front doors slammed shut.

I'm not sure how long I lay there sobbing.

I thought that was going to be the end. Strangled in my office after surviving a horrendous accident and finally getting my life back. Not only that, but I'd found love again.

I tried to swallow fully but my neck was sore where his hand had been. I stroked the tender skin with my fingers where I knew bruises were likely blooming.

Who's Peter?

I closed my eyes. From my place on the floor, I could hear the heat click on.

Like the world would have gone on without me.

I lifted my head, pinching my eyes shut as pain radiated through my neck. The armrest of my wheelchair was digging into my hip, causing increasing pain. I'd have a vicious bruise there for sure. I tried to push up on my arms but the shoulder I had landed on screamed at me. I was stuck. I wouldn't be able to get back into my wheelchair on my own. I could call 9-1-1 to help me but my injuries went beyond what my body had endured.

I fished my phone out of my pocket, found the number, and pressed call .

"Jamal?" His was the voice I needed to hear .

"Liam … I need you."

I started crying. I knew I'd find comfort in his arms. He was the only one I could be this vulnerable around. I trusted him more than I had realized.

Courage surged through me.

I trusted him enough to expose my beating heart to him.