Jane_Davitt_ _Drawing_Closer

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and concluded in less than thirty seconds that the boy wasn t likely to come back, tail between his
legs, bedraggled and apologetic. He d left his home, the only one he d known, and even hunger and
his experiences on the road hadn t turned his steps south again.
Tyler had given him shelter for a day, a few meals, a blow job, and the promise of a week of
boredom, hard work, and little else.
No, Dan wouldn t be coming back. Tyler finished his beer, his thoughts studiously blank, and listened
to the rising wind as it played with any items not securely fastened down, batting at them like a
curious kitten. His garden could stand some wind, and the rain would be welcome, but a big storm,
that could do some damage, and he wouldn t be able to go out there and tidy up the mess when it d
blown over without suffering some, not for another few days.
The beer had been a bad idea; he needed to take a leak, and he d probably have to haul his ass out of
bed in the middle of the night, too, because he felt like drinking more. Lots more.
When he finished in the bathroom, already used to the mechanics of balancing himself against the
wall so that he could piss standing up without making his ankle throb, an unfamiliar splash of color
attracted his attention. He focused on it; Dan s toothbrush, a bright neon green, cheap and decorated
with a blob of lurid blue toothpaste on the handle. Tyler gathered up everything Dan had left in the
bathroom, the sparse, basic supplies all cheap, all disposable, and put the items into a plastic
sandwich bag. He stood in the kitchen, holding the bag in his hand, irresolute and depressed in a way
he hadn t been for months now. Throw it away? Keep it in case Dan did show up again, his flash of
temper burned out?
Or go after him and give Dan a face-saving chance to spend the night dry and warm, no matter what
he did in the morning? Tyler wasn t used to examining his motives for what he did; he acted and dealt
with the fallout, end of story, but what had happened with Dan didn t need picking to bits to make
sense of. He d fallen for Dan s mix of vulnerability and guts -- and for all his efforts to keep his
distance, Dan was just too fucking tempting after two years of nothing but his own hand and some
memories for company. Not his type, no, Tyler hadn t lied about that -- but then, he d always,
pragmatically, gone for what was available, and that had never included anyone remotely like Dan, so
who knew.
Rain struck the windows like angrily tapping fingers, and Tyler sighed and went to get his car keys.
Time to see if he could drive with his left foot useless.
***
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He expected to find Dan on the road, headed for the town, but even though he drove slowly, scanning
the wind-whipped trees for a wet figure sheltering under them, he didn t see Dan. He could ve gotten
a ride in with someone, but the odds weren t good. Tyler hadn t seen anyone else on the road; they d
all be safe and dry at home or checking that their property was secured against what was looking to be
a wild night.
The rain was coming down hard now, too much for the wipers to handle. Tyler drove around town for
ten minutes without seeing Dan and was about to start checking the bars when some instinct made
him turn around in a spray of dirty water. If Dan was in a bar, he was fine for the moment; if he
wasn t, if he was still in the woods --
Tyler got home, the journey longer than usual because the unlit road was barely visible through the
streaming glass and he didn t want to end up in the ditch, and took out a flashlight from the glove
compartment. It worked; all his flashlights did, just like the truck was always kept gassed up and
ready to go. Old habits, too much part of his routine for him to give them much thought. Without
bothering to do more than fasten his slicker, he got out, took a firm grip on his cane, and turned on the
flashlight. He couldn t follow Dan s tracks because there weren t any; just mud and grass and water,
but he could see the path that led to the raspberries.
He trained the small circle of light onto the path and, feeling vaguely ridiculous, yelled Dan s name
into the shriek of the wind and heard it take the word away. Each repetition of the name was easier,
until soon he was calling it every few breaths, every few steps, calling it and almost forgetting to
leave a space for Dan to reply, always assuming he was around to hear it and felt like answering.
The thought of Dan hearing it and ignoring him, or, worse yet, hiding from him, was uncomfortable
enough that he shoved it away. Besides, he had enough to deal with keeping his footing on the rain-
slicked earth, a layer of wet over baked-dry dirt making each step chancy. The bandaged ankle was a
fucking pain, too, the grass catching at it and wet and dirt working their way inside the leather sandals
he d tugged on before leaving the cabin.
Anne was going to rip him a new one when she saw him next. This just didn t qualify as resting.
Tyler came close to falling three times, the spike of adrenaline flooding his system each time. Fear of
falling, fear of the dark. He d never been conscious of either in the past, not even as a child, and he
wasn t afraid now, just wary and angry. The dark hid Dan and made finding him more difficult; so
would falling, which was why he wanted to avoid it.
Each foot of path he traveled made his objectives narrow to a pinpoint beam, intense and searing. He
was going to find Dan, bring him home, and if fucking Dan or rolling over for him would keep Dan
around for a few days, and take that helpless, hopeless look out of his eyes, Tyler would consider it.
Would have been simpler to shoot you, boy, he muttered. Should have gone with my instincts,
because God knows, if you do come back, you ll complicate things.
Like they d been so simple before.
He felt the cool tickle of water running down his spine as the rain found its way past the upturned [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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