Page 24 of The Tourist

He didn’t lookback up at me, but remained staring at the useless phone. “Calder,why did you bring me to the bar? Down in this bloody cellar? Whatis it you want?”

There wassomething in the tone of his voice, a reluctant surrender thatwasn’t like anything I’d heard from him in the past. A familiar andfascinating misery. Yet also… challenge. The mix washeady.

“I want youto pull yourself together, Ricky. I want you to recall what we aretogether. How much you want to please me. So, we can stay here awhile, and I’ll explain things. Make you see. Though not too long,as this foul place isn’t somewhere I choose to stay. Just untilyou’re ready to come back to my place, but without all thisemotional nonsense. Except… unless I direct it.” The excitementflickered like a flame—but just as quickly, pain followed, arcingthrough me with internal agony.

What the fuck?I sucked in a breath, barely holding back a groan. I didn’tunderstand my confusion tonight, my disturbed mood. For a moment,I’d felt an uncharacteristic stab of sympathy for my lover’sdisobedience—yet, of course, he must pay for it. Why was I stillhesitating? I knew what I had to do.

“I wish I’dtrusted him.” Ricky ran a hand back through his tangledhair.

“What?”

“If I’d toldhim everything about it all, rather than being afraid he’d thinkless of me…” His head dropped even farther, hiding his face from myview.

I didn’t askto whom he referred. The name was dirty, like ash, in my mouth.“Told him about us?”

“About you.”Ricky’s voice was clear in the bare room, but he still wouldn’tlook at me. “There was never really any ‘us,’ was there? It’salways, only been about you. I was just there when you wanted me,when you wanted someone to hurt. It should have ended a long timeago. I wish I’d had Dan’s strength.”

“I’m here nowfor you. That’s all you need.” I tried to keep my voice steady, butI felt nauseated. “Dammit, he’s no better a man than you are,Ricky.”

His head jerked up suddenly,startled at what I’d said.

“What did youthink I meant?” I hardened my voice. I’d let down my guard and itcouldn’t happen again. “That you were strong, too? I just meantthat you were both below my respect.”

Ricky’s headdropped again. “Let me go home, Calder. If you care anything aboutme at all. Let me out of this cellar and I’ll go back to Dan. Iwon’t cause you any more trouble.”

“No. I can’tlet you.”

My touristmind stuttered; lurched. There was terrible, dawning confusioninside me. Ricky played on every nerve I had. And not just now,here in this bleak place.

I realised,for a sudden, horrible moment, I was all ofthem.Together.

My touristself was suffocating inside Calder. My mind was cruel and ugly, mymemories bleak. Ricky was entangled with those memories, with mydesires, my dark, shocking dreams. But he was frightened, callingout to be protected and loved, not discounted as nothing more thana tool. And beyond that was Dan. Dan, the man of strength and care,loyal, honest, And Dan’s love for Ricky.

My throattightened. As Calder, the connections needled me, like a blade inmy flesh.

Which remindedme. My—Calder’s—concentration sharpened again. Inside my pocket, myfingers curled around the handle of my knife. I could bring it out,show it to Ricky. One snap, and it’d be open, glinting in this dimlight. He could admire it with me. We could play with it together.I let those thoughts eddy back and forth in my mind, in turnstimulating, soothing, shocking. I wasn’t entirely aware of thepassage of time.

Ricky coughedagain, his breath wheezing in his throat. His gaze slid past myface to the cellar door behind me. His eyes narrowed.

Or I could show him the powerof the blade, in my hands.

I wasn’tconscious of making a sound, but Ricky’s eyes darted back to meetmine. “Dan?” he shouted, as if the man might be on his way here tojoin us. As if that could ever happen. The interloper; the thief.As if I’d let him share.

Sudden crampseized my gut and I stumbled back a few paces. My breath was harshand my vision inexplicably clouded. And over by the barrels, Rickywas struggling to his feet.

In among mypain, I felt a fierce, white-hot anger that I knew could overcomewhatever was disturbing me so viciously—if I could only regaincontrol of it. Get the fuck out of me! I didn’t accept defeat; Ididn’t accept fear.

My handgripped the knife.

***

And what was atourist to do? I was hanging on to that connection—Ricky’s need forDan, Dan’s devotion in return. It was strong. But was it strongenough? I spent my days cruising men for fun, for desire, forsensual satisfaction. Not so much for love.

I visited, remember? I wasn’there to stay. I wasn’t meant to change the path of anyone’slife.

But now I was Calder.

And whileCalder’s urges were deep inside and horribly familiar, at the sametime he sickened me. Ricky needed me to protect him, not to hurthim. Would I really do that? Hurt him?