Calder emerged from his bedroom and sprawled on the opposite end of the sofa, kicking his legs up and tangling them with Robby’s without acknowledging him in any other way. Calder didn’t glance up, intently focused on whatever was on the screen of the laptop balanced on his flat belly. Robby hesitated before sliding lower on the sofa, resting his head on the arm and slotting his legs on either side of Calder’s. The older man’s foot began to idly rub against Robby’s inner thigh, not in any overtly flirty way but in a familiar way, a boyfriend way, like he just needed to touch him. It warmed Robby’s insides.
Robby was cycling through the channels when a picture of his attacker came into view in the upper righthand corner over the shoulder of a woman in a red blazer with a head full of blonde hair and a serious expression. He froze, turning up the sound until her measured voice filled the room.
“A home invasion turned deadly just forty-eight hours ago when the occupant of the residence, Kid’s Channel star Robby Shaw, allegedly killed an assailant who forced his way into his home. While there has been no confirmation, sources say the weapon was believed to be a cheese knife and that this man could have been sent by none other than Shaw’s own father, the notorious leader of the Magnus Dei church, Jeb Shaw. Detectives could neither confirm nor deny these allegations but say if anybody can help identify this man they should contact LA county’s homicide division and that, for now, the investigation remains open.”
“Thanks, Sharon,” the other anchor said as the picture disappeared and another appeared behind the man’s head. “In related news, Magnus Dei leader, Jeb Shaw, has himself released a statement regarding the incident. Here’s what he had to say.”
Robby’s stomach sloshed as his father came into view wearing a suit that probably cost more than a Kia. “Folks, it’s a sad day when a man has to defend himself against slanderous allegations from his own blood, but I’m afraid that’s where we’re at. I’ve never been anything but supportive of my son’s career and even brought him out to Los Angeles myself so he could fulfill his dream of being an actor. To hear now that he believes I’m somehow capable of sending a man to assault him is not only insulting but outrageous. I can’t help but feel this is some kind of retaliation against me for not condoning his deviant lifestyle of sodomy, drugs, and alcohol. Had I known I was sending my boy out to Sodom and Gomorrah I would have simply kept him close. I can only hope my son turns away from the devil and this wicked lifestyle and comes back to Jesus’s light. I don’t wish to get attorneys involved but if he keeps bringing these lies against me and the church I’ve built up from nothing, I’ll have no choice. Please, Obidiah, call me. Your mother and I are here for you. Your brothers and sisters are here for you. It’s not too late.”
The video faded away, and the news anchor cleared his throat. “Well, there you have it. We’ll continue to cover the story as it unfolds.”
Robby blinked back tears, his face on fire, humiliation consuming him. Calder was no longer looking at his screen but at Robby. He thought about bolting. He couldn’t stand the thought of crying in front of Calder again. He’d cried more in the last week than he’d cried in his entire life, and Calder had been there every single time. Robby couldn’t even imagine what he thought of him. When his phone rang in his pocket, he jumped, heart sinking, as he saw his attorney calling once again.
“Hello?” he managed.
“Robby, sorry to call twice in one day, but the detectives want us back for more questions tomorrow morning. Meet me out front at nine-thirty so we can walk in together.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Robby stuttered. “Did they say why they wanted to talk to me?”
“No but don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine. You just listen to me and do as I say, and everything will be right as rain. See you tomorrow.”
Robby set the phone on the table and attempted to flee to the bedroom, but Calder raised a leg, barring him from standing. “Hey. Where are you going? Are you okay? Who was that?”
“They want me back to answer more questions tomorrow morning,” Robby said, hot tears spilling over his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away before Calder saw them, but it was no use.
“Okay. Don’t panic.”
Tears flowed freely now, and his nose started to run. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who’s being accused of murder and threatened with a law suit.”
He sniffled, looking at his hands, too embarrassed to look at Calder.
“Come here, angel. Please don’t cry,” Calder crooned in a voice so sympathetic it only made Robby feel worse.
Robby just shook his head. But then Calder’s hand closed around Robby’s wrist, tugging him across the couch and into his arms. Robby didn’t quite make it all the way, his cheek resting against Calder’s stomach. It didn’t matter though, Robby could barely talk as he wailed, “I swear I don’t usually cry this much. It just seems like my life is falling apart.”
“Shh, you have the right to be emotional, sweetness. This is a lot for anybody to take.”
“You wouldn’t cry at the thought of going to prison,” Robby said between racking sobs. “I don’t want to go to jail. I won’t do well in prison. Look at me.”
Calder’s fingers combed through his hair, and his stomach jiggled with laughter. “I don’t know about that, angel. I was a cop for over a decade. We definitely don’t do well in prison. I might shed more than a few tears at the notion,” he said. “But I promise you, I’ll never let you see the inside of a jail cell, even if I have to smuggle you out of the country to some place without extradition. But I sincerely doubt it will come to that.”
Robby knew Calder wasn’t serious, but it made him feel better anyway. His panic slowed, even if his tears didn’t. Robby wrapped his arms around Calder’s waist, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of the older man’s skin and even the sound of his stomach growling sooth him. He didn’t open his eyes again until the sound of the Paramount music swelled into the room.
Robby took in the soft, slightly fuzzy movie on the screen. “What’s this?”
Calder glanced down at him with a smile. “Vertigo. We’re going to fix this insane lack of knowledge you have about classic films. Now, pay attention.”
Robby wiggled a bit higher to snuggle under Calder’s chin. His fingers stayed in Robby’s hair, but his free arm came around Robby’s back as he covered them both with the black blanket from the back of the sofa. If he could have burrowed under Calder’s skin, he would have. Nobody had ever held him before. Not when he cried and not when he was happy. Positive touches had never been a part of his life and he craved it more than anything. His parents didn’t believe in physical affection. If only they had carried the same convictions about punishments. Robby forced thoughts of his parents and lawsuits and police officers aside to focus on Calder and the movie he was so eager to show him. He deserved a few hours of peace.
* * *
Robby wondered idly if the police provided barf bags. Being back in the interrogation room had his stomach sloshing. Why did everything smell like stale air and sweaty socks? Why was it so cold in there? Shouldn’t the cold have killed the smell at least? His attorney, Mr. Fields, sat on his left just like last time. Calder sat to his right, his hand resting on Robby’s knee under the table.
Mr. Fields had advised Robby not to answer any questions unless he said it was okay and not to volunteer any information. He’d also somehow managed to get them to allow Calder to sit in on the questioning provided he said nothing. Robby almost wished he’d brought Casanova. He always calmed Robby’s frazzled nerves.
There were now two detectives in the room, a tall man with a bald head, flawless umber skin, a full beard, and eyes so brown they looked black. He dressed casually in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, his gun at his hip, and his badge on a lanyard around his neck. He’d identified himself as Detective Mayhew. The detective from the other day was there as well, still pale, pudgy, and sweaty, looking like he had worn the same rumbled shirt and dress pants since the last time they’d interviewed him.
Once everybody had introduced themselves, Mayhew flipped open a folder. “Mr. Shaw, can you please walk me through the events of the other night, just so I’m up to speed?” he asked, clicking his pen and pressing it to a paper within the folder like he was going to take notes.
