Last week, as you'll recall, Wyatt brought Shy ice cream, only to be told to go away! What next? The answer lies in this week's No Way Out. Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!
Of all the reactions Wyatt had anticipated on his short trek
across the street, hearing Shy tell him to go away wasn’t one of them. Shy
looked so... afraid... but why? Was Randy’s hold on him so tight he feared even
talking to another person? Or was it Wyatt in particular?
Wyatt was confused. Especially when he saw the furtive look Shy
gave to the ice creams in his hands which, almost forgotten, were dripping onto
the front stoop.
He was reminded of a game he’d played as a kid, with some of
his friends, the object of which was to figure out what someone was looking at.
“I spy with my little eye,” the familiar chant went, followed by a guess of
some sort. Right now, Wyatt thought he spied naked fear in Shylor’s eyes. And
he didn’t like it. Not one little bit.
Wyatt was too startled to answer immediately, and Shy made
no move to leave, so they remained frozen in an odd tableau, their eyes locked
upon one another, as if each was mesmerized by the other. Wyatt could fairly feel the indecision that
pulsed between them. Surely he wasn’t mistaken in thinking that Shy wanted to
talk to him as badly as he wanted to talk to Shy? If he didn’t, wouldn’t he
have closed the door by now?
At least, that’s what his intuition told him, although he
was woefully ignorant of how to handle a situation like this, having never
found himself in one before. What in the world could make someone look so
scared? Wyatt wasn’t sure he wanted to know. And yet he wanted to help Shy in
any way he could. Clear his beautiful blue eyes, make him smile... free him
from whatever held him in such a tight grip of panic.
“It’s just ice cream. I thought you might like to share some
with me. You like ice cream, don’t you?” Wyatt heard himself babble. He wanted
to get Shy to relax, but it didn’t look like that was happening any time soon.
Um, think, think... do
something.
He blindly thrust one of the cones forward. Did Shy’s hand
twitch, just for a moment? Did he start to reach for it and then held himself
back?
But why? Why in the name of all that was holy was he so damn
afraid? And of what?
At the sound of an engine, Wyatt thought Shy was going to
faint. His eyes grew bigger and he looked about as bloodless as a vampire on a
day pass. Wyatt turned toward the street. It was just the mail truck, making
its appointed rounds, backfiring. Nothing there to be alarmed about. But as he
pivoted back to tell Shylor so, the door slammed shut, leaving a stunned Wyatt
gaping at it.
* * * *
Shy leaned against the door, his heart beating erratically,
his hands clenched into fists. Despite his best efforts, he felt warm tears
prickle in his eyes. No, dammit, no. It was better this way. What if... what if
that had been Randy? The thought didn’t bear completion. Shy had gotten lucky,
no sense in tempting fate. No matter what his traitorous body was telling him
to do. To open the door. To invite Wyatt in. To take the ice cream and feast on
it. Oh damn, when was the last time he had eaten ice cream? He no longer
remembered. Months, at least. A punishment that he no longer recalled the crime
he’d committed. And it didn’t matter anyway.
It wasn’t just the ice cream that was so dangerous, it was
the way Shy found himself reacting to Wyatt. He’d never had this happen before,
and he found himself shaken to the core with the strong desire that was
threatening to topple his very existence. He didn’t even understand why he
wanted Wyatt so badly, he just did. Maybe because he seemed kind. And kindness
was definitely lacking in Shy’s diet.
Wyatt seemed sweet, and thoughtful, and he was good looking.
The tears were closer to spilling now. Shy began to panic.
If he gave in to this stupid emo shit, his eyes would show it, and Randy would
want to know why, and Shy wasn’t a good enough liar to pull that off.
He was startled from his reverie, effectively halting his
tears, by the reverberation of the door through his body. It took Shy a few
seconds to realize Wyatt was knocking, followed by the sound of the doorbell as
it echoed throughout the house.
Shy was torn. He could stand there and do nothing, wait for
Wyatt to get the message and leave. He could run to his room, hide his head
beneath the pillows and pretend he didn’t hear. But what if Wyatt didn’t leave?
What if he stood there until Randy came home? Shy’s stomach knotted at the very
thought.
He forced himself to calm down, digging his nails into the
palms to distract himself, so hard that small red crescents formed. He had to
do this. He had to discourage Wyatt from ever coming over here, even if it
turned out to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And he’d done a lot of hard
things in his short life.
But it was a matter of self-preservation. Even more, he didn’t
want Wyatt to be hurt, and there was no doubt in Shy’s mind that Randy would
hurt him.
He slowly opened the door, catching Wyatt in mid-knock,
startling the other man.
“You can’t be here,” he whispered in as fierce a voice as he
could muster. “He can’t see you.”
He watched Wyatt as he processed the words. Why didn’t the
fool leave, while he still could. He seemed ready to go, so go...
“Meet me somewhere,” came the unbelievable words. “Tomorrow
morning. Meet me somewhere else. Anywhere.”
Shy felt bile rise in his throat. He swallowed quickly.
I can’t... I can’t....
I....
“Where?” he almost sighed.
to be continued
Don't forget to visit the other Wednesday Briefers and enjoy their offerings!
Until next time, take care!
♥ Julie
Things are getting interesting!! Where will they meet? Will the meet? Will they get caught!!!
ReplyDeleteWow, I feel for him. Very nicely done, Julie.
ReplyDeleteThat was so intense. I can feel the conflict and fear in Shy. He should definitely meet with Wyatt and if Wyatt has any sense he wont let him go back. Brilliant as always
ReplyDelete