A Short Story : A Chapter Out?

“You’re hurt,” Tom stated, his laconic responses beginning to grate on Booker’s nerves. “He hurt you.”

It took a moment for Tom to realize that Booker had once again managed to get the better of him, and his anger bubbled to the surface. “What the fuck’s your problem?” he growled. “Why do you always have to behave like such a

Even though Booker had attended over a dozen therapy sessions (both with Tom and without), he still found the experience extremely uncomfortable, and he cringed inwardly at the question. He was a private person by nature, and discussing his feelings with a stranger was not easy. The intense psychological examination was new territory for him, and it had him stepping outside his comfort zone and leaping feet first into the unwelcome state of vulnerability and agitation. Although he had known

Seconds later, Booker’s tranquil face came into view and he managed a tense smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He felt like a fool because he knew both Booker and Levine were trying to help him, but he was struggling to control the fear that was steadily rising, making it difficult for him to breathe.

The revelation was not what Booker expected, and his eyes grew wide with surprise. “Tommy, I… are you… oh God… are you sure?”

Although the truth of Booker’s statement had him faltering, Tom was not about to let his friend off the hook. “That doesn’t mean I gave you permission to paw me like a fucking oversexed pervert! It was barely even a kiss, Booker, it was—”

Turning a corner, Tom slowed his pace as he approached his apartment building. Although he longed for the comfort of his home, the thought of facing Booker filled him with dread, the psychological burden weighing him down. Consequently, he purposely dragged his feet, delaying the confrontation and the inevitable argument. He’d reacted badly to the news of Booker's tape, and his guilt hung like a noose around his neck, waiting for the moment his mind yanked at the metaphorical rope, and the painful castigation crushed his airway. But while his remorse was real, his jealousy was a far bigger beast, a raging fire-breathing monster that easily dominated all other emotion. It was a deep-seated sensation that encompassed feelings of fear, rage, and

“Booker, how do you know what it said? The last time we talked, you couldn’t read. Or have you been lying to me, all this time?”

The piercing weee-ooo-weee-ooo of the approaching ambulance could be heard in the distance, the sound growing steadily louder, and overcome with emotion, Booker slid to the floor with a sob. For the briefest of moments, he had thought everything would be okay, but the reality was, he had failed his friend yet again. If he’d fought through the dizziness and remained conscious, he could have calmly convinced Tom to go to the hospital instead of trying to trick him. He’d underestimated Tom’s gullibility, and he had paid the ultimate price. The DNA evidence was gone, and there was nothing left to link the seven men to the rape except his and Horshack’s witness account and the video. But the video was of no use because he knew Tom well enough to know even if he tracked down the Keymaster, the young officer would never give permission to use the tape in court. Once again he felt the weight of his guilt pushing down on him and his misery intensified. He was a failure as a cop and a friend, and because of him, the seven Pi Taus would never be brought to justice.

Booker’s wild, panicked eyes slowly regained their composure, but when he saw the startled expression on Tom’s face, they once again filled with tears. “Wh-what the fuck is wrong with me?” he whispered, his bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably.

But just as he had made up his mind to tell Booker it was over, a strident voice inside his head told him to stop being so pathetic and fight, fight, fight! Despite the roller coaster ride that was their friendship, Booker had chosen him as a partner, not Jorge, and he needed to stop doubting his lover’s motives and treat him with the respect he deserved. But it wasn’t quite as easy as that. If their relationship was to survive, he needed to overcome his fears and give Booker the greatest gift he could offer; his unconditional love. It was a huge step for someone who only three months before had been violently raped by seven strangers, but it was a sacrifice Tom was willing to make. His love was absolute, and he wanted to experience the same level of passion his lover had once shared with Jorge. He wanted to feel loved. He wanted to be Booker’s everything.

Acutely aware of Booker’s failed attempt to hide his true feelings, Tom attempted to justify his meager surroundings. “I know it’s not much,” he stated softly, his lips tilting into a shy smile, “but it’s

Unable to maintain his inner calm any longer, Booker shot Holland a hostile look. “Meaning?”

“Hey, boss, where you want these papers? Spent all day on ‘em and I sure hope they aren’t going to waste.” There Trent was, waving his newly typed report in front of Heath’s face. Trent was the vice-president of the company, and the only person Heath would allow to do such a thing, but right now Heath didn’t even care. His stomach ached, and he remembered back two months when he had been shot by Shawn.

The hour-long drive back to the city gave both men the time they needed to cool off. However, a moody silence still blanketed the atmosphere, making it all the more difficult for Booker to impart the news he knew would destroy Tom’s world. On edge, he waited until Tom was sitting down in their apartment before broaching the subject. “There’s something I need to tell you.”