Page 61 of Unexpected Boyfriends

Then I think,is Satan trying to trick me into sinning?And for a brief irrational minute I wonder if that could be true? But no, I don’t believe that. And I don’t really believe in Satan, either. Do I?

No. Axel is sheltering me from the people who’ve been lying to me. Axel is safe. Everything else is not.

I let out a big breath and relax my grip on my legs. The chaos in my head starts to calm.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I freaked out.”

“It’s okay,” Axel opens his arms to me. “You’ve probably got some kind of PTSD from what’s happened to you. Come here?”

He lets me move towards him, rather than taking me into his arms himself, and I appreciate his sensitivity. I unravel myself and scoot across the short distance between us. He wraps an arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder with a sigh. I even relax enough to allow myself to sink into him. For a short while I can let it all go, safe in the comfort of Axel’s embrace. I don't have to think, I just feel.

“It will all be fine,” he tells me as he kisses me gently on the head.

If he tells me often enough I may believe it.

AXEL

The strident sound of the front doorbell jolts me awake.

Justin and I must have fallen back asleep after his early morning freak-out. He’s still sleeping beside me, long lashes golden against his pale cheeks, his breaths coming soft and low and regular. For the moment, he’s peaceful. My heart warms knowing that I’ve given him that at least.

Something about the doorbell worries me. My brain is still waking up… what is it? What’s wrong?

I look at the alarm clock. It’s 7am. Who would be at the door at that hour?

“Coming!” I hear my mother call out as she moves around upstairs, probably dressing, before she heads downstairs.

Suddenly it hits me and I come fully awake. It’s the continuation of a thought I had last night.

I leap out of bed and hurry to the window. Without moving the blind, I peer out through the gap between blind and window. And yes, there’s a police car parked beyond the hedges. It would be too much of a co-incidence for Justin could turn up here and the police shortly after.

We’re out of time.

I put a hand over Justin’s mouth to keep him quiet as I shake him awake. He looks startled at the abrupt awakening.

“Quick,” I whisper, “The police are here. They might be looking for you. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Justin leaps out of bed, eyes wide with terror. I hate that it's my words that have made him feel like that. He does not want to go back to that place. We quickly throw on trackpants that I hurriedly drag from my drawer. I grab some extra clothes and a towel and I usher him out of the room and towards the back door even as I hear my mother opening the front door. We have to get outside before she turns around or lets anyone inside or they’ll see us at the end of the hallway.

With a softke-thumpthe back door closes behind us. When I place my hand on Justin's arm to guide him towards the far corner of the garden, I feel the trembling of his slight frame but we don't have time to calm him now. When we reach the old wooden gate, hidden out of sight just beyond the bushes, my teeth dig into my lip as I unlatch it. It squeaks, the noise sounding loud in the still garden and I hold my breath, but it's too early, there's no-one around to see us as we quietly leave the premises. I slide the latch home extra carefully, knowing no-one can see us from the house, but they could hear us if they were standing at the back door. The latch lowers into place soundlessly.

I’d thought about this eventuality the night before, and I know where to go. We don't speak as we hurry down to the beach, throwing on our hoodies as we go, then walk briskly but casually along the shore so as not to attract attention -just two guys taking an early morning walk, nothing to see here- until we reach the row of boathouses. The tide is low, so we duck under each of the ramps and keep going until we reach the dilapidated one at the end. No-one uses it anymore and it’s locked up, but I know where there are two loose boards that can be prised open to gain entry. Our breaths are coming hard and fast from exertion and nerves.

I pull the boards aside and almost push Justin inside, following close behind as he scrambles to his feet. The blood is pounding in my ears, so loud I’m afraid anyone passing by could hear it. But no-one is anywhere near the old boatsheds at this hour of the morning, and they wouldn’t be able to hear it even if they had been. It’s just nerves. So much is riding on us keeping Justin’s presence a secret.

Inside the shed, the early morning light pierces the gaps between the wooden slats so once our eyes adjust to the darkness, we can see reasonably well. It smells of disuse – dusty and faintly mouldy. Coils of rope lie forgotten in the corner, a couple of old buckets beside them. There’s nothing much of anything else… nothing that someone is suddenly going to remember and decide they need. He should be safe here for now.

I lay the towel on the floor and pull Justin down to sit on it. He’s so scared and his thin body is shaking. He still has that terrified look in his eyes. I drape the spare hoodie over his shoulders, and tenderly stroke his face.

“Stay here. You’ll be safe. I’ll come back as soon as I can, but it may take a while. Okay?”

His eyes are wide and his teeth are chattering, but he nods. I hate leaving him like this, but there's no time.

“Just wait for me, okay? It’s going to be okay. I love you and I’m going to take care of you. Promise.”

I feel the strongest urge to leave him with something to tether him to me. I unclip the neck chain with the five-armed starfish entwined with the sea snake from around my neck and attach it around his. His eyes flare and I know he recognizes it. I always wear it, a superstitious thing that’s meant to keep me safe when I’m in the ocean. Mythology ascribes other meanings to it too.Something tells me he needs it more than I do. And I want him to have it. It's my promise to keep him safe.

I cup his jaw in my hand and lean in and kiss him softly on the lips.

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