Page 6 of Protecting Paul

I stand up and lead her through the station. I walk with her and Officer Wallace outside to the car. I give her a wave and bid her goodbye. I watch as the cruiser drives away, standing outside for another minute just to breathe.

I finally walk back inside after decompressing. It was rough, hearing all the details of her abuse, but my resolve is even stronger now. I’m determined to keep that asshole as far away from her as possible.

It was the thought I always had back in the day with Paul, but this time I have the power and the tools to fulfill it. I throw myself into the work, looking over all of the notes I took during the interview. There are pages of detailed explanations of the man’s abuse, and I want to find a way to put him away for as long as I can.

“Excuse me?” I hear a voice behind me. I was so engrossed in reading that I didn’t even hear someone walk in.

“Hey, sorry, one second,” I say. I shut my notebook and set it down before turning around. “What can I do for – Holy shit.”

“Sam?” His voice sounds as shocked as mine, and we stare at each other dumbly for a moment.

I blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not hallucinating, but sure enough, Paul Boyd is standing in front of me. He looks different obviously, but I’d recognize him anywhere. His hair isn’t the same dark brown I remembered, but a fun, vibrant shade of teal. He doesn’t look much taller than the last time I saw him, but his shoulders are a little broader, and his t-shirt reveals an armful of tattoos. I wonder for a second where else he has tattoos and if I’ll get the chance to find out. He always sort of reminded me of a elf prince, with a lithe narrow build and beautiful refined feature, but now with the tattoos and the very sexy stubble he looks more like a dark fairy, and it pushes every single one of my buttons.

“Paul,” I breathe out. “When did you get back into town? I didn’t… Jesus, I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Uh, yesterday,” he says, a bit nervously. Just like in my memory, he’s struggling to meet my gaze. “My dad passed, so I’m dealing with all of the inheritance bullshit. I’ll only be in town until that’s figured out.”

“Oh wow, I don’t… Sorry, I don’t know what to say.” I can’t offer my condolences because I’m not sorry one bit to hear that bastard died. “What are you doing here though? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s usually not a good thing when people walk in here.”

“I need some help,” he says simply. He looks up at me, and we make heart stopping eye contact for the first time in ten years. “And you’re right, it’s not pleasant.”

4

Paul

Ididn’tknowwhatto expect when I walked into the police station. The place always skeeved me out a bit, so I was nervous from the start. The last thing I expected though was to see such a familiar face.

Sam Conroy. I’m silent for a moment, just staring at him. Sam was my first kiss, my first love, and the guy that made me finally realize I was absolutely gay. Back then, Sam was a saving grace in my life. No matter how shitty my father was to me, Sam was always there to pick up the pieces. He went out of his way to help me; so much so that I felt guilty about it.

Sam and I never put a label on things back then, both of us were new to relationships and even newer to the truth behind our sexualities. Even though we weren’t technically boyfriends by name, he treated me like he truly cared about me. That was the thing about Sam, though. When he cared about something or someone, he threw his all into it.

It was nearly impossible not to like Sam. He was everything I wasn’t, in the best way possible. He was outgoing and extroverted, able to talk to anyone. He was popular with everyone at school. The kids who bullied me adored Sam. He was strong and courageous and outspoken about his passions and interests. On top of that, he was handsome as hell.

The years had been kind to him. More than kind. Sam was always attractive, even when everyone else was awkward and gangly, and going through puberty. But now… Holy hell. As I stare at this mature version of Sam, I have no doubts he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. His jawline is sharp and strong, accentuating the rest of his handsome features. His dark hair is short but grown out enough to where it falls across his forehead slightly. His hazel eyes, which I always found beautiful, are deeper set now. His build has filled out too, with broad shoulders and a broad chest that made my mouth go dry.

“Talk to me,” he says, as he comes around the counter to me. I hope he didn’t notice the way I was practically fawning over him. “I’m here to help.”

I can’t help but smile at the familiarity of that. He used to say stuff like that to me all the time. It was always, ‘how can I help?’, ‘is there anything I can do to help?’, or ‘does this help?’. He was always trying to make life better. For me and everyone around him.

“So, um, do you remember my dad’s brother? I don’t know if you met him, but I told you about him before.” Sam nods instantly. He was always a damn good listener, so I had an inkling he would remember everything I once told him. “Well, when I got back to the house, I found him squatting there. I told him to leave by today, but he won’t listen to me. He’s says that it’s his house and he’s not going anywhere. I tried to show him the paperwork, but he just locked himself in the old guest room and refuses to come out.”

“Damn.” Sam shakes his head. A vein on his forehead pulses a little bit, and I sense anger in him. It’s soothing in a way, giving me a sense of validation. “I’m sorry to hear that, Paul, I really am.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault.” My heart is thudding rapidly in my chest. His voice sounds so genuine when he says it, like he’s not just saying sorry to make me feel better. He means it. “I just… I just need to know how to get him out of the house for good. It’s stressful enough worrying about all this stuff without him in the picture.”

“I understand.” Sam nods and gives me a reassuring smile. I notice the incredible dimples in his cheeks, which I always loved. It gives him a boyish look, and he looks a lot more like his teenage self. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ll make sure that bastard doesn’t make this any harder for you, alright?”

“That’s not a very professional way to talk about him, Officer,” I tease. Sam shrugs at me and laughs. His dimples pop up again, and I swear my heart skips a couple of beats. I remember how much I loved being the one to make him laugh, and I still feel the same all these years later. “But thank you, Sam. You’re right. He is a bastard, a huge one. He’s just like my dad.”

“How are you… handling that? Your dad passing away?” He leans toward me a little bit. He’s suddenly close enough to me that my breath catches. I can’t force myself to pull away though. He’s even more handsome up close, dammit. After a moment of silence, he leans back again and clears his throat. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. If anyone else asked me, I probably wouldn’t answer. “I guess pretty well, all things considered. It feels like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. Maybe it’s fucked up, but I’m kind of happy about it.”

“It’s not fucked up,” he says. It’s not an empty reassurance though. He means it. Sam’s the only person who knows the extent of my relationship with my father, so he gets it. “He wasn’t really a father to you anyway. It’s hard to miss what you never had.”

I’m struck quiet by that. He’s right. That’s why I don’t feel like I’m mourning. There’s nothing to mourn. Sam was always smart, always insightful, and it seems like that hasn’t changed. His genuine reassurance lifts that weight off my shoulders more.

“You’re -” I start to say but stop myself before I finish that thought. I can’t say that. What the hell am I thinking? It’s been years since I’ve talked to Sam. “What do you need me to do? To get my uncle out of the picture?”

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