Page 55 of Plaything
“James!” I panicked.
“Andrew, relax, and be still. Brandon, lift the end of the couch, please,” James told Brandon.
As soon as Brandon lifted the end of the couch, James carefully pulled the handcuffs free. I tried to stand on my own, but James wrapped his hands around my biceps and helped me stand slowly. I felt extremely embarrassed that I was semi-hard. I understood enough about myself and about how masochists react to pain, it didn’t make this any less embarrassing.
“Where are your pants, Andrew?” James asked me while keeping an eye on Elise.
“The coff-ee…t-table,” I stuttered.
Fucking hell, what was wrong with me? I felt ice-cold suddenly.
“No! Don’t you dare take those clothes! I bought him that tux to wear. It’s mine. He’s mine!” Elise screamed at Brandon as he walked toward the coffee table.
“Do you have any clothes here, Andrew?” James ignored Elise and asked me, but all I could do was stare at her as my body was wracked in pain and confusion. How could she have turned on me like this? “Andrew, look at me,” James instructed again. I dragged my eyes away from Elise and looked at James. “Andrew, do you have any clothes here?” I nodded. “Where are they?”
“The ga-rage,” my voice slowed in places as I spoke.
“The garage?” James repeated what I had said for clarification. I nodded, knowing that he would come down on me soon when he found out everything. “Brandon, go to the garage and see if you can find his clothes.”
Before Brandon headed toward the garage door, I forced myself to focus and talk.
“Books, Bran-don.” I swallowed hard, hoping it would settle my nerves, or whatever the fuck was going on.
“What?” Brandon asked.
“Books. I have t-two b-ooks in the ga-rage…on a t-tarp,” I blurted.
I started to feel like I might pass out. I had never passed out before, but I was starting to think that this is what it would feel like. While Brandon was gone, James stood in front of me and told me to try to relax. I hurt just to breathe, though.
“James, I t-think I’m g-going to p-pass out-t. My side hurts.”
He put both of his hands on my biceps again and encouraged me to take deep breaths. Brandon finally re-appeared with underwear, jeans, my sneakers, and a t-shirt. After he handed James my articles of clothing, my two books from my brothers remained in his hands.
“I got the two books, man,” Brandon told me and held them up for me to see.
I tried to maneuver my arms over my head to get the t-shirt on, but the movement was so harsh on my body that I was forced to stop. Sharp shooting pains radiated in my side where she kicked me. I looked at James, unsure of what to do. He helped me into my t-shirt by stretching the material over my arms and then over my head. My breathing sounded funny with shallow panting.
James began to walk towards the door with me slowly as Elise came unglued.
“He’s mine! James, you cannot barge in here and take him! He’s mine! We signed a contract!”
As I walked by, I stared into the fireplace. All that remained of the book that had meant so much to me was unrecognizable and charred…just like my heart.
Epilogue
James
Never ever hadI dreamed that I would be back in an emergency room watching medical staff attending to one of mine. Andrew still was very much mine.
Andrew was alert, but understandably in shock. I stood at the foot of the bed and kept one of my hands on the top of his foot. Every few moments, I would rub up and down the foot, just to remind him that a familiar friend was here for him.
As the nurses and doctors moved calmly to attend to his magnitude of wounds, I glanced over my shoulder at Brandon. He sat on a beige tin folding chair against the wall with Andrew’s shoes between his feet. I was very proud of his mature behavior tonight as his ability to care for a friend came out. Andrew was going to need a friend who had suffered from mind games and abuse. Brandon knew more on that subject than anyone I had ever come across.
Once the doctors left his side to let him rest, I sat down on the padded vinyl chair beside his bed. Andrew looked very lost and unsure of what to make of his evening. Off and on, I had wondered what happened to his night and how things went so wrong. I refrained from talking about this evening and wouldn’t bring it up until tomorrow. But tomorrow will be a different story.
In all, seventy-two stitches and four bruised ribs made up the visible damage done, up to this point. The bruises would begin to show up tomorrow.
As Brandon sat on the side of Andrew’s bed, he hesitated a few times but then set his hand loosely on Andrew’s blanket-covered leg. After he let his hand sit there for a moment, he looked over at me for my approval. I smiled and nodded my head at him.
Something very positive did come out of this dark evening; Brandon began to come out from his shell.
