Last week, as you'll recall, after Randy's heart attack, Shy was left hanging, and the question arose of what to do with him. See where he ends up in this week's installment of No Way Out. Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are doing. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!
No Way Out #24
“Wyatt, quit pacing. You’re worse than an expectant father.”
Wyatt stopped in mid-stride, turning toward his mentor. Lukas poured himself another shot and leaned back against the sofa, crossing his legs.
“He’ll be here when he’s here. You worrying about it isn’t going to make it happen any sooner.”
Wyatt’s head was still spinning from the news they’d received. Or, rather, the call Lukas had gotten from Bobby Demaris. Telling them that asshole Grant had a heart attack and went to the hospital and Shy was all alone and now someone was bringing him here.
Here. Why here? Because the only name Shylor had given them was Wyatt’s. He gave Lukas a puzzled look. “How did they figure out to call you?” he asked again, as the first explanation had flown over his head in his excitement.
“Boy, you need to calm down,” Lukas chided him in a gentle tone. He patted the seat beside him. “Get over here before you wear a hole in the carpet and I’ll tell you.”
Wyatt didn’t want to, but he did, anyway, dropping onto the piece of furniture with little grace. That earned him another look, but Lukas let the matter pass. “Shy must have told them you’re living here, and since Bobby knows John, and knows he’s out of the country, it only made sense to call me. Now, listen to me. Before he gets here, we need to discuss a few things.”
“Discuss? Discuss what?”
“Well, how you intend to handle the situation.”
Wyatt ran his fingers through his messy curls, trying not to tear out some of the strands in his frustration. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Lukas was saying. This was too important no to; Shy’s well-being depended on his keeping his cool.
“What do you mean?” he asked in a moderately calmer voice.
“I mean Shy’s got to be traumatized, if for no other reason, he just watched his... saw Grant have a heart attack in front of him.”
Wyatt saw the flash of something in Lukas’ eyes, something resembling horror... or disgust... Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
“What else? There’s something else, isn’t there? What happened to Shy at that club tonight?” He pronounced the word club as if it had an unpleasant taste, based on what he’d heard went on there alone. How could people live like that?
“Now, Wyatt, you have to promise me not to fly off the handle. And do not say anything to Shy about what I’m about to tell you. The only reason I am telling you is so you don’t ask him about it. Got it?”
Wyatt nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He clenched his fists on top of his legs, bracing himself for the worst, whatever it might be.
“Here, drink this first.” Lukas poured what little of the bourbon was left in the bottle into Wyatt’s glass and held it to his lips. Wyatt tilted his head back and let the warmth trickle into his mouth and down his throat, sending reinforcement to his extremities.
“Apparently, from what Bobby told me, Randy and another guy got into it. Something to do with business.” He paused, looking down at his hands, then back up to Wyatt.
“And?” That couldn’t be all it was, there had to be more to it, surely.
“And after they were threatened with being kicked out, they made up and Randy...”
“And Randy what?”
Lukas took a deep breath and let the words out quickly, as if to deaden the impact. “Randy offered to have Shy blow a whole room of men.”
“He what?” Wyatt exploded. He leapt up from the sofa, his heart pounding, literally seeing red, he was so angry. “That motherfucker! I’m going to kill him! Who the fuck does he think—?”
He found himself yanked unceremoniously off his feet and back onto the couch, before he could aim one of his fists toward the coffee table.
“What did I tell you?” Lukas didn’t yell, didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was too serious not to listen to, as if he was used to taking charge. Come to think of it, he probably was.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Wyatt moaned, then caught himself. Dammit to hell, Lukas was right. He couldn’t fall apart now. Shy needed him. He was depending on him. And what was he doing? Losing his shit like a fool. Hadn’t Shy asked for him by name? Didn’t that mean something? Something very significant? What good would it do for Wyatt to fall apart on him?
He took deep, calming breaths, forced himself to focus. He had to know, to prepare himself for the truth. Whatever it was, he swore to himself, he wasn’t going to react. He’d hold it in as long as it took.
“Did he... did he force Shy to...” He couldn’t even get the words out; if he were to finish that sentence, he knew he’d be violently ill.
“Luckily, one of the members intervened on Shy’s behalf, and questioned whether Shy was actually consenting, or being forced .”
“What did Shy say?”
Lukas shrugged. “Not much of anything. But that’s when Randy had his heart attack, so it became a moot point.”
Wyatt was glad on many levels, mostly for Shy’s sake. “W-why... why would someone do that to another human being? Against his will?” Not that he’d be happy if Shy’d consented, but at least he’d accept that. But to be forced... that was just inhuman.
“Well, I honestly don’t know. And, to be honest, I think, after tonight, he’s worn out his welcome at the club, if that makes you feel any better.”
“I’d feel a hell of a lot better if Shy got away from him. Permanently.” Wyatt growled.
“Can’t do nothing about that right now, and that’s nothing to worry about. Just keep something else in mind, Wyatt.”
“You can’t touch him.”
to be continued
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