Shield, page 10
Elijah fought control of the spike of anger. He was still riding on the edge of fear, but yelling wouldn’t make anyone feel better in the long term. He swallowed hard and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m in one piece.” He was safe. That’s what mattered.
“I’ll write the report. Siobhan, take over.” Morgan stalked away, head down.
Elijah’s anger washed away in a sea of compassion. Morgan obviously blamed himself. Elijah would have a word to him when he was done.
Jamie looked him in the eye. “Are you really all right?”
He took off his helmet, ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I’ll probably have some gorgeous bruising around my groin in the morning.”
“Listen up, folks,” Siobhan called. “Let’s pack up and do a full equipment audit. We want to prevent this from happening again.”
A couple of people grumbled, but not too loudly. No one liked auditing the equipment, but after tonight they couldn’t complain.
“Jamie, you and Elijah can start.”
Damn it. He wanted a few minutes to calm himself and being with Jamie wouldn’t help. “I’ll meet you there. I’m going to the loo.” He strode off.
Once inside the bathroom, he pulled off his gloves and splashed cold water on his face. The temperature cut through the jitters. He had to tell Morgan about his fear of heights, but he wouldn’t do it today, not when Morgan was already upset about the harness. The man felt guilty enough. He’d tell him next training session. Screw facing his fear. Screw Alex. He wasn’t ever going on a roof again.
The door opened and Jamie walked in. Elijah straightened from the sink and dried his face on some paper towel. Was this nauseous, weak, light-headed sensation how Jamie felt about telling the town about his sexuality?
“You handled it well,” Jamie said.
“Thanks.” He still wanted to throw himself into Jamie’s arms. He stepped back. He’d give Jamie the space he wanted.
“Do you want to get a drink after we’ve finished?”
Elijah raised his eyebrows, as a fluttering of another kind started in his chest. “What kind of drink?”
“Ah, we could go to the pub.”
Elijah lowered his voice. “That’s not what I meant.”
Jamie pursed his lips. After a long pause he said, “A can-we-talk-about-things drink.”
Elijah refused to let the fluttering turn into hope. He shrugged. “Sure.” The bathroom was suddenly too confining. He pushed past Jamie and headed for the equipment room.
“Elijah—”
A volunteer walked towards them.
Elijah raised his eyebrows, waiting for Jamie to continue.
“Never mind.”
The fluttering stopped. Right. Can’t have anyone overhear them.
Elijah sighed. The talk had better be good. He couldn’t continue pining after Jamie.
He wasn’t that desperate.
***
Jamie tapped his steering wheel as he drove to the pub after training ended. He wasn’t convinced Elijah would meet him there. He hadn’t seemed enthusiastic when Jamie had asked him out and had refused the offer of a lift to the pub, said he wanted to walk to clear his head.
Not that Jamie blamed him, but before he could try to persuade Elijah, Siobhan had asked for his help putting back some tarps and by the time Jamie had finished, Elijah had already left.
He pulled into the car park and exhaled. Was he actually going to do this?
His fear was nothing compared to what Elijah had just faced. Seeing him dangling off the ground, clinging to the rope had terrified Jamie. The accident could have been a lot worse and Jamie would have regretted not being brave enough to explore things between them.
He’d only had eyes for Elijah when he’d walked into the depot, despite Siobhan flirting with him. And afterwards, when Elijah was safe on the ground, he’d wanted to drag him into his arms and hug him, comfort him when Elijah had clearly still been scared.
All of that told him what he had to do.
And he wasn’t doing it sitting in the dark in his car.
Grow some balls, Zanetti.
He got out and strode towards the pub on the corner. Nerves tumble-dried in his stomach as he pushed open the wooden door. The jukebox played country music today and about a dozen tables were full. He scanned the room, inhaling the stale smell of beer and lifted his hand in greeting at Mr Corson at the bar and his principal, Noel, who was with his family. Elijah sat in the corner booth facing him. Jamie let out a sigh of relief and walked over to him.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“A shot of tequila would be good.”
Jamie studied him. His skin was still a little paler than normal. Without thinking, he squeezed Elijah’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked up to the bar and Dee grinned at him. “Two days in a row, Jamie?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ll get a shot of tequila and a midi of the local beer.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Tough night?”
It would be all over town by tomorrow anyway. “Elijah had a near miss at training.”
She glanced at the booth. “I thought he wasn’t as chirpy as normal. What happened?”
Jamie explained and Dee said, “Well in that case, the tequila’s on the house.”
He handed her his card. “Thanks.”
He scooted into the booth next to Elijah. “Dee said the drink’s on the house.”
Elijah made more room for him. “That’s nice of her.” He downed the drink in one mouthful and slammed the shot glass onto the table. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I needed that.”
Jamie itched to offer some physical comfort. He clenched his hands. “Must have been pretty scary, dangling like that.”
Elijah shuddered. “Please don’t remind me.”
“You should tell Morgan.”
“After tonight, I definitely will.”
Jamie hesitated. Elijah’s determination to face his fear had inspired Jamie, but now he was backing down… No. Stop making excuses. Jamie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the other day.”
“Hey, guys. Mind if I join you?”
Jamie jumped and turned to Jeremy standing next to the table, beer in his hand. He froze. What was he supposed to say?
“Not today, honey,” Elijah said. “Jamie and I have some SES business to discuss.”
“Oh, right. Sure.” Jeremy raised his glass in farewell and went to the bar.
Jamie relaxed. Thankfully Elijah was a quicker thinker than him.
Elijah raised one eyebrow. “Monday?”
Jamie nodded. He needed Elijah to understand where he was coming from. “I, ah, had something happen when I was a kid, and it’s kind of stuck with me.”
Elijah covered his hand, concern in his eyes. “Want to talk about it?”
His instant attempt to comfort warmed Jamie, but he removed his hand on the pretence of drinking more of his beer and checked the room to make sure no one had noticed. “The more I think about it, the more stupid it seems to be so hung up on it.”
“Childhood trauma can stick, especially if you’ve never dealt with it.” Elijah took Jamie’s beer and sipped.
His skin prickled. Hopefully talking about it would help. “I was in Year Three and I worshipped my teacher.” He shook his head. He’d been such a teacher’s pet. “He had all these travel stories to exotic sounding places. The way he described them he sounded like a superhero.” These days he’d probably see through the boasting. “I tried to be the perfect student, so he would praise me.”
Elijah frowned. “I don’t think I’m going to like where this is going.”
Jamie shook his head. “It’s nothing sexual.” He sipped his drink. “About halfway through the year we had an assignment about what we wanted to be when we grew up. We had to research it and do a presentation at the end.”
“Did you choose teacher?”
Jamie’s laugh was bitter. “If only. I wanted to be a hairdresser.” Elijah’s jaw dropped and he continued. “I used to love going to the hairdresser’s with Mum, listening to the gossip and I loved how good everyone felt when they left. It was a happy place.”
Elijah smiled. “I take it others didn’t agree?”
Jamie’s chest still tightened at the memory. “I was the last to do my presentation.” He closed his eyes, still able to picture it with such clarity. The shuffles and whispers of his classmates who were bored after sitting still for so long, the damp, fusty smell from clothes that had got wet during recess and were slowly drying. “I didn’t get halfway through it before my teacher started mocking me.”
He lowered his voice to mimic him. “What are you—a girl? Hairdressing’s for poofters.” The same feeling of shame washed over him. “I was devastated the man I idolised was being so cruel.” Elijah’s face screwed up in outrage, but Jamie kept talking. “The kids teased me mercilessly for months. Kit and Fleur stood up for me, but it only made things worse because they were girls.”
“So what did you do?”
“I worked harder at sport, training after school. I went fishing with Dad and Lincoln and took in photos of the fish I’d caught.” He still hated fishing. “I begged Lincoln to teach me to surf and hung out with some of his friends at school. Having older high school guys talking to me added to my cred.”
“So you became the perfect man’s man?”
Jamie nodded. “Eventually the names and the teasing stopped and girls took interest again. Everyone picked me first on their sporting teams and they forgot about me ever wanting to be a hairdresser.”
“Did you forget about it?”
“Absolutely.” He cringed at the way he’d behaved. “I made Mum’s life hell any time she spoke about taking me for a haircut. Eventually she agreed to take me into Albany whenever I needed a trim. That way no one would see me and remember.”
“Didn’t your parents speak to the school about your teacher?”
“I never told them about it. Looking back I guess they knew something was wrong, but I pretended everything was fine. I’d tell them I was going to Kit’s place and instead I’d hang out by the river by myself.”
“So realising you were bi must have been pretty traumatic for you.”
“Initially.” The idea of going through it all again… “I figured I’d choose girls not guys.” He glanced at Elijah. “It wasn’t hard until I met you one weekend at Kit’s place.”
Elijah’s eyes widened. “At her sixteenth birthday party?”
Jamie smiled. “You remember?”
“Oh, honey I almost combusted when you walked into the room.” He grinned.
“I could only focus on you, and because you were already openly gay, you fascinated me. I wanted to be like you.”
“No way!”
Jamie chuckled. “Yeah. You became the centre of my fantasies for quite a while afterwards. Part of me kept hoping Kit would invite me over again while you were there, or I’d run into you in town, but it never happened. I worked most weekends, and you didn’t play sport.”
Elijah sat back and studied him. “Would you have dated me?”
Jamie sighed. “No, but the fantasies kept me going until I got to Perth, away from all the expectations.”
“And then you went wild?”
“Not wild, but I enjoyed being single and went to some gay bars. Then I met Sandra and I was with her for a couple of years.”
“Have you had a long-term relationship with a man?”
His muscles tightened. “Not yet.”
“Do you want one?”
He looked deep into Elijah’s eyes. “With you I do, but I need to take things slow, work through my issues. I shouldn’t give a damn if someone doesn’t like it, but I’ve spent most of my life trying to please everyone.” He paused. “And I get this real anxiety, like I can’t breathe when I imagine their reactions.”
Empathy crossed Elijah’s face, but he leaned back. “What’s your definition of slow?”
Jamie cleared his throat. Elijah wouldn’t like his proposal. “No public displays of affection at first. Not openly telling people we’re dating.”
Elijah shuffled away from him, a deep frown on his face.
Panic jiggled in Jamie’s chest. He was losing him. He couldn’t blame him. He was essentially asking Elijah to hide their relationship until Jamie got over himself. “We’ll tell the musketeers,” he blurted. “I just need a few weeks to prepare myself for the town’s reaction.”
“You really think they’ll care?” Elijah raised an eyebrow.
He sighed. “They probably don’t give a damn, but I need it. I should probably tell work as well…” He glanced at Noel. The principal wouldn’t have a problem with it, but Patricia’s smile and frequent touches popped into his mind. He could only imagine what she’d say. But he’d do it.
“How long?” Elijah demanded.
Jamie shifted away, his chest tightening. “What do you mean?”
“If I agree to this, how long do I have to wait—a week, two, a month?”
Shit. He wanted a time limit. It made it so real. He longed to say a couple of months, but he wasn’t a complete wuss and he’d always have his family’s support. Better to do it quickly like ripping off a Bandaid. “Two weeks?”
Elijah studied him for a long moment. “The last time I hid a relationship, I discovered it was because the lying bastard was married, and not because he was worried about his reputation.”
Jamie cringed. No wonder Elijah was so against it. “I can promise you I’m not married.”
“Yeah, I know. No way Kit would set us up if you were.”
Jamie grinned. “No, she wouldn’t.”
“All right. You’ve got two weeks.” Elijah’s smile was small, a little uncertain.
Jamie hated having made him feel that way. “Absolutely. I promise I’ll get my shit together by then.”
“Adam has a late shift tomorrow night. Do you want to come for dinner?”
“I’d love to.”
Elijah brightened a little. “OK. I’m heading home before I decide it’s a good idea to drink all the tequila in the bar.”
Jamie brushed Elijah’s arm. He’d been so focused on himself he’d forgotten about Elijah’s trauma. “Want to talk about it? I can drive you home.”
“I’ll be fine.” He made shooing motions with his hand. “If you’ll let me up.”
Jamie wanted to insist on helping him, but he hadn’t earned that yet. He slid out of the booth instead and walked Elijah out of the pub.
“Can I bring anything tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Just yourself—six-thirty all right?”
He nodded and glanced around the car park. Streetlights illuminated the family nearby getting into their car. No way could he kiss Elijah goodbye. “Can I drive you home?”
“No, I could do with the fresh air.” Elijah stepped forward, bent his head and followed Jamie’s gaze to the family. His shoulders slumped. “Right, no PDA. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked off.
Jamie gritted his teeth. The family weren’t the least bit interested in him, the children arguing, the parents trying to wrangle them into the seatbelts.
But Elijah was interested. So Jamie had to get over his fear before he messed it up.
Chapter 8
“What the hell, Elijah?” Kit’s outrage spun Elijah around. He slipped, almost crashing into the cow he was about to milk.
His boss strode towards him, her scowl sharp enough to strip paint. Crap. What had he done? He hadn’t seen her this morning when he’d arrived, and had been working all day at the back of the property fixing water troughs. “Hey, Kit. What’s up?”
“Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me. What’s this crap about you going to Foley’s place yesterday?”
He frowned. It wasn’t like Lincoln to be a tell-tale. “Where’d you hear that?”
She glared at him as if he was an imbecile, a hand on one hip, her head tilted. “Where do you think?”
Lincoln probably hoped Kit would stop him doing something stupid. “I thought my car might have been dumped there. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”
“You should know better after all the shit that happened a few months ago.”
Yeah. She was right. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” How to distract her before she gave him a shit job as punishment? “Did I mention Jamie’s coming to dinner tonight?”
Her whole demeanour changed instantly. She straightened, a huge grin splitting her face. “Seriously? Tell me everything.”
Elijah smiled and continued placing the cups on the udders. “We had a drink last night and I invited him to dinner.”
“Great! Wait until I tell the musketeers.”
Elijah winced. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Jamie doesn’t want it public knowledge yet.”
She scowled. “What?”
“He’s not had a same-sex relationship in Blackbridge and he’s worried about what people will say.”
“That’s bullshit! I told him no one will care.”
Her outrage soothed him. “I gave him two weeks.”
“Good.” She prepped the cows across from him. “So what are you making for dinner?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll have to stop at the supermarket on the way home.”
Kit checked her watch. “What time is he coming?”
“Six-thirty.”
“Why don’t I finish milking tonight and you go now?”
“It’s fine. This is my job.”
“No. I insist. Go and give yourself time to primp. I can handle things here. Lincoln’s working late tonight anyway.” She took his arm and led him to the dairy entrance. “Go home.”
Elijah hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Have fun.” She opened Adam’s car door and before Elijah knew it he was behind the wheel.
He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With a grin, he waved and drove away. He’d managed to distract her from Foley’s place and got off work early—win, win. He frowned as he reached the main road. Kit often griped about Lincoln not telling her police business, so why had he told her about this? Wasn’t it a big deal, or was he seriously worried and hoping Kit would keep him under control?
