Last week, Shy agreed to meet Wyatt at the supermarket, but will he make it? Find out in this week's episode of No Way Out. Then don't forget to visit the rest of the Briefers, whose links follow my tale. Enjoy!
Shy thought Randy would never leave. Usually quick out the
door, today he lingered over his coffee, giving detailed instructions on his
drycleaning. Told a rambling story about his high school days that bore no
relevance to anything. Finally, he rose from the table with one last
instruction—“Dinner at 8 sharp”—and exited.
Time to get dressed and go. Shy wasn’t sure what to wear on
a first date. Why was he even thinking of this rendezvous in this way? This was
no date. It was a first and last meeting, nothing more. He hoped at least he’d
come away from it with some memories to hold on to; he deserved nothing more.
Other guys had first dates and first kisses, hopes and dreams and a future to
look forward to.
Shy wasn’t one of those.
He didn’t intend to dress any differently, until he stared
at himself in the mirror in surprise. Dark grey slacks, and a lightweight polo
shirt in a blue that Randy uncharacteristically said matched his eyes. One
thing he could say for Randy, he dressed Shy up pretty on the rare occasions he
took him out.
Shy grabbed the list and the car keys, muttered, “Ready or
not, here I come,” and locked the house behind him.
* * * *
Wyatt had been sorely tempted to suggest they ride together.
Hell, they were right across the street from one another. But common sense
dictated that if it was that easy, they wouldn’t be meeting in a grocery store,
would they?
He rejected most of his wardrobe as too casual. He had to
make a good impression the first time—he suspected he might not get a second
chance. So he donned his best gallery outfit, the one he used to wow the
patrons that showed up to view his art close up and personal, hopefully to
purchase it. Tan slacks and a long-sleeved light blue button-down shirt. He
knew he’d pay the price for wearing sleeves in this weather, but it looked good
on him and darkened his blue eyes. If that meant suffering a little in the
humid St. Louis heat, then so be it.
Shop for Less was a discount supermarket chain, with
locations that dotted the Midwest and Northeast. In this economy, people needed
to cut corners where they could. When Wyatt shopped for himself, he availed
himself of their low prices, so he was very familiar with the nearest store.
As he pulled into the half-empty lot, Wyatt’s heart rose
into his throat. There was no sign of the silver luxury sedan. Had Shy backed
out on him? He checked his watch. Ten o’clock precisely. He parked Mr.
Masterson’s car away from most of the others, near an older car, but not too
close. Didn’t want to take a chance on being hit with the door. Then he
gathered himself together, grabbed a cart from the corral, and ventured inside.
The secret of the store’s success was a limited selection of
items at good prices. Wyatt also appreciated the small snack area where you
could sit and enjoy a fountain soda and a sweet or salty snack. That would be a better place to talk than
pushing carts about the store, gabbing between pulling down cans of food.
Assuming Shy even showed up. Which at this point looked
doubtful. Well, then, he’d just have to march across the street again, and do
something more drastic to gain Shy’s attention, although he wasn’t sure what.
Or why he wanted to get to know the blonde so badly. Something in his eyes drew
Wyatt to him, though. Something Wyatt could not forget. He sensed a soul in
distress, and he ached to relieve Shy’s pain.
He had to find out what it was, first.
He carelessly threw more items in his cart. He’d figure out
something to do with them later, assuming he actually checked out. Rounding the
corner from one aisle to the next, he collided with another cart moving in the
opposite direction. As metal hit metal, the jolt sent shock waves running along
his arms. Glancing at the other driver, Wyatt bit back his sharp retort, replaced
his frown with a smile. He came!
Damn, but he looked good. Looked even better without that
silver-haired Simon Legree-type creep standing behind him.
Wyatt’s smile blossomed across his face, growing broader and
broader by the second. To his gratification, he got a small smile in return.
That’s a good sign.
Shy peered curiously into Wyatt’s cart, perplexity creasing
his blond brow. Then he began to chuckle. Wyatt followed his glance at the
objects he’d tossed so mindlessly inside, and had to smile himself. Black
olives, anchovies, Italian dressing, canned frosting, and chickpeas sat side by
side in discordant splendor.
“That’ll make an interesting dish,” Shy commented in
bemusement.
“No doubt,” Wyatt muttered. “Here, let me put this stuff up
and I’ll just walk with you. We can get a drink and something to eat. Maybe
they have ice cream?”
He watched the expressions play across Shy’s face, and held
his breath, wondering which would win out. There was something so very
uncertain about Shy, as if he were teetering on the brink between one state and
another. As if his very soul were in
imbalance.
Finally, Shy nodded and Wyatt hastened to replace everything
as quickly as he could, before the blonde changed his mind. He couldn’t help
feeling there was a victory in there somewhere, one he planned to hold on to
for as long as he could. Once the errant items had been taken back to where
they belonged, Wyatt returned to Shy.
“Here, let me push that,” he offered. “That way you can get
what you need easier.” Since Shy didn’t object, they switched places and
continued down the aisle. Wyatt wasn’t surprised that Shy had a list, one he
kept checking.
A lot of low-fat items, he noticed, wondering if Randy was
on a diet.
to be continued
Now here are the rest of the Briefers in all their splendor!
This story can't help but kinda tear at you knowing people are in these situations. I really would love it if you can reveal to us a bit of how Shy ended up in this place. Why is he so convinced nothing good can happen? How did he meet that monster, Randy? Why does he have such a low self-esteem or think that life like he lives it is okay? Most of all, is it that he feels he needs Randy to exist or he needs someone to do so? What keeps him there with him? Is it just like any abused person or more? I was surprised when he let hismelf call it a date, even if in his head. He seems to fear randy even in there! I think him saying shy seemed to be a tortured soul is so true. It's hard being a person who wants to help people in those positions. I hope it doesn't blow up in both of their faces!
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Thanks for your comments, Christine, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I have every intention of telling more about Shy's background. It's just hard to do it in 1000 word clips without rushing things, you know? Plus, this is my first time writing bdsm, so I'm trying to take it slow and careful. Good things I have lots of good friends who are willing to advise me! :)
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