Date: Wed, 16 Apr 2014 22:48:34 -0400 (EDT)
From: DJAkeeba@aol.com
Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapters 20 & 21

This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic
descriptions of sex.  You should not read this story if it is in any way
illegal due to your age or residence.

This is a work of pure fiction. This story is the sole property of its
author and may not be copied in whole or in part or posted on any website
without the permission of the author.

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-----------------------

TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD
by Steven H. Davis

Chapter 20

Taine felt so good in my arms.  This was a position I could never grow
tired of, and I kissed his hair gently as he nestled against my chest.  All
of the loneliness and despair which I had once felt in my own life had been
lifted from my shoulders and carried away by the strength of this moment.
I had never felt so calm, so sure that happiness and love were within my
reach, literally within my arms.

As I held my angel close, I began to come back to reality, as if being
pulled from a deep and wonderful sleep.  I resisted, of course, but pretty
soon the wheels started turning, bringing with them all my doubts, fears
and questions...

Had I pushed Taine into this?  Would he now push me away if I had gotten
too close?  What had brought him to this point?

I felt like I knew what had brought *me* to this point... it was
indisputably true that I needed him.  I also felt like he needed me, or at
least like he needed somebody.  He had never answered my question and I
still didn't know what had made him so upset.  His breathing had steadied
and I hated to break the moment, but I needed to understand him better.

"Taine, please tell me what's wrong."

I whispered it into his ear softly, pulling my head from his shoulder just
far enough to direct the words.

His response came in the form of a tightened grip of his arms around my
back, sinking deeper against me and trying to escape my request.  I
returned his strength and tucked my head into the curve of his beautiful
neck, offering a silent apology and acknowledgement of his answer.

We stayed like this, locked in a tight embrace, for several more minutes
before I felt him loosen his grip and separate himself from me, just far
enough to rest his forehead at a slight angle onto mine.

"What *isn't* wrong?"

The question was also the answer, and I understood it perfectly well.

"Somehow," I ventured softly, "everything will be all right, Taine.  I
don't know how, but it will."

"No it won't," Taine sighed in despair. "It's too late. Everything will
never be all right.  I've screwed so many things up.  My mom..."

He was openly sobbing again, pressing his forehead into mine so hard that
it hurt.  My words hesitated for fear of opening a wound so deep that it
couldn't be closed.

"That wasn't your fault, Taine.  People get sick.  People die.  It happens
to everyone.  Why do you think you had anything to do with it?"

As I asked, his fingers clenched together, pinching clumps of my
sweatshirt.  He wasn't ready to go there and I wished I hadn't asked. It
was too much for him.

Eventually, he eased again and began to calm.

Most of the major calamities in his life were well-ingrained.  Lives don't
get screwed up overnight, nor do they get fixed that way.  Taine had showed
so much bravery, but he had now broken down.  Something had pushed him over
the edge... maybe the fight, maybe something else.

"Babes, did something else happen yesterday that upset you, something with
your dad?"

"Nothing happened, Rick," Taine sighed after a time.  "I don't even try
anymore.  He just doesn't understand me.  I can't explain it.  When I'm at
home, even when he's there, I just feel so... so alone.  If we're not in
front of you or other people, it's just so silent and empty and lonely.  I
don't know what I've done.  I must have done something to deserve..."

"NO!"

I shocked him as much as I shocked myself.  It was a reflex statement, and
was out of my mouth long before I could reel it back in. I took a deep
breath and gave him a humble look, my eyes pleading with him to believe me.
My hands moved to both sides of his face, my thumbs gently wiping his eyes
clear before my hands resettled softly at the rear of his neck.

"No."

Softly this time, quiet, my voice and eyes now pleading together.

"No, Taine. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this.  But,
look... he's grieving, too.  He's trying not to show it, but he's grieving
too, like you.  It's nobody's fault.  But..."

My own eyes refilled with tears so thick I could barely see him, and I had
to blink hard to release the flow before refocusing.

"You deserve so much more."

My head was now gently shaking sideways and a tight-lipped, loving smile
tried to take grip on my quivering face.  There was a look in his eyes that
wanted to believe me.  But other forces -- ghosts of the past, fears of the
present, despair of the future -- were also at work deep within him,
pulling him away.

"I'm trouble, Rick," he said flatly. "I don't want you to get hurt, too.
So many things are already destroyed..."

He hadn't moved an inch but I could feel him drifting away from me.  He was
shaking.  I felt like I had failed him... or at least my words had.

I decided to just gently lean into him, resting our foreheads back
together. I could only hope to soothe him again with my touch.  I closed my
eyes and softly and slowly stroked the back of his head, gently combing my
fingers through his soft, silky hair.  His quivering relented, but he felt
cold and lifeless in my arms.

He had receded deep within himself -- summoned there by fear, I believed.
He didn't want me to get hurt too.  I truly believed that he couldn't even
bear the thought of hurting me somehow.

How could he possibly hurt me?  Was he afraid he would disappoint me?
Couldn't he know that he deserved every bit of the confidence and faith I
had in him?

I had found it within myself to really believe in Taine.  He had been
emptied so mercilessly and thoroughly by the many wounds in his life.  Did
he really feel responsible for all that had gone wrong around him?  His
beautiful head was filled with lies and truths all tangled together, his
mind unable to untie the knots and sort out the difference.  I felt
completely overwhelmed and under-equipped for the project that lay ahead.

I barely heard him when he said it.  He spoke it in such a soft voice.

"Thanks, Rick."

Again, he clenched me tight one last time before gathering himself and
pulling back, boring into me with those X-ray eyes just like he had done
many times before.  This time though, his eyes were in role-reversal,
sending an answer to an unasked question.

I felt warm.  I felt loved. I also felt reassured, having begun to wonder
how Taine would respond to me when this was over. I knew that what we had
communicated was real, but I was afraid that it wouldn't be an easy
adjustment for him.  He may have sensed my unease, but no matter, his
reassurance was much welcomed.

As he broke his stare and we lost touch for the first time in what must
have been at least an hour, my eyes detected movement in the background
through the window, out in the yard.

I tried to sharpen my focus, but was unable to pick up where the movement
had come from.  My eyes were now sore from their intense efforts.  Could
they have been playing tricks on me?  The rain was subsiding, but the wind
was still howling in the dark Texas night.

I stepped up to the window and peered deep into the back yard. Nothing. I
decided to keep this to myself. Even if someone had been there, how could
they see us if I couldn't see them? There was plenty of wildlife in our
yard, too, I thought.

We stepped out of the bedroom and began making our way back to the front of
the house.  I couldn't help but look back inside, knowing that what had
happened in that room would change my life forever.

I felt taller, stronger, even older, and definitely more mature.  I was in
love and determined to win.  I was no longer locked in a petty battle with
someone like Coach Keith, though.  Or even Kevin.  I was already making
plans to deal with him.

I was now locked in a much larger and more important battle, to help win
back the life of the boy I loved.  I didn't know how long it would take,
how hard the battle would be fought, or where it would take me.  I only
knew that I would win or die trying.

I would leave nothing on the battlefield.  Whatever sacrifice I had to
make, whatever pain I had to suffer, I would do so in the all-powerful name
of love.  What I had always wanted was within my sights.  My life had found
new purpose.

When I turned back, Taine was staring at me curiously.  I smiled at him,
what I hoped was a strong, assuring smile.

"Rick?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Tell me what you're thinking."

I walked him to the front door, never breaking contact with his beautiful,
hurt eyes.  As we reached the door, I again took his face in both my hands
and kissed his soft, perfect lips.

"I'm thinking that I love you," I told him.

He opened the door, looking out into the night.  Before he left, he looked
back with a pleading, serious look in his eyes.

"More than anything?"  Taine asked.

I smiled then, and it wasn't to reassure him or show strength for him.  My
smile was filled with all the emotion and compassion and warmth in my heart
for the love of my life.

"More than everything," I replied.

------------------------

Chapter 21

When Taine had disappeared down the street, I closed the front door with a
new sense of purpose.  I had my angel, I knew that now, and he had me for
just as long as he wanted me.  I was hoping that would be forever, but he
didn't have himself, and that was my new mission in life: helping that
sweet, caring, wonderful boy to find happiness, and to find himself.

I knew that I would have to serve out the remainder of my suspension before
I could help or protect Taine at school, but I figured that I could best
spend the week by showing Taine that Sly really did love him, and that what
he took as coldness was merely Sly's own way of grieving for his
recently-deceased wife, Taine's mother.

Death could bring families together, I knew, but it could also tear them
apart.  I had heard the statistic about how so many couples divorce shortly
after the death of a child... I was hoping that Maggie Maxwell's death
wouldn't cause an unbreachable rift between her husband and son.

It was obvious to me that Sly loved his son.  No one who had observed the
scene in Mr. Towers' office after the locker room incident with Coach Keith
could come away with any other conclusion than to realize that Sly Maxwell
was a Papa Grizzly, fiercely devoted to and protective of his cub.

I wondered why Taine couldn't see that.

Maybe Sly was distant at home when there were no guests present, retreating
like his son into his own solitary cocoon of mourning.  Maybe Taine was
still holding Sly responsible for the frequent absences from home during
his youth.  Or maybe, Taine just missed his mother and no one else would
do.

Whatever it was, I felt like I needed to fix it.

For all the death and tragedy that the Maxwell family had endured, Taine
still had a father, and Sly still had a son.  Well, Sly actually had two
sons, but that other family bond was long-since severed.

I just knew, deep down, that it wasn't too late for the one that remained.

I wandered into my room and turned on the stereo, planning to lie down and
read for a while before turning in.

It was then that I noticed the darkened backyard again through my bedroom
window.  It reminded me of the strange movement I had seen out there while
embracing Taine earlier.

	*When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide/
	Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride/
	Till I get to the bottom and I see you again/
	Yeah yeah yeah hey*

Curious, I went back down the hall to the living room, opened the sliding
glass door to the patio, and peered out into the yard.

I didn't see anything out there in the darkness, and the only sounds were
those of my stereo and of crickets chirping their raspy songs.

That was when I realized that I hadn't seen Foxy in quite some time.

	*Do you, don't you want me to love you/
	I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you*

"Foxy?" I called, somewhat softly as not to disturb the neighbors.

No answer.

I frowned in puzzlement and called out again, a bit more loudly.

"Foxy!"

There was still no response, so I flicked on the patio light and stepped
outside.

That was when I saw him.

	*Tell me tell me tell me/
	Come on baby tell me the answer/
	Well you may be a lover but you ain't no dancer*

Foxy was all twisted up in Tynah's rope-hammock, which hung between two
tall trees in the yard about twenty feet away.

The ropes around him were red with blood, and his guts draped downward from
his body through them.

I gasped in horror and ran to what was left of my dog.

My gasp rose to a wail as I got closer and saw what had become of him.
Foxy hadn't stood a chance.  It looked as if he'd been stabbed dozens of
times.  His guts weren't hanging open because whoever did this had slit his
belly.  They had spilled out simply because there were so many stab wounds
that his abdomen had just given way like a perforated postage-stamp covered
in fur and blood.

	*Now... Helter Skelter!*

"Foxyyyyy!" I screamed, and I felt as if I would never stop.

My dog's cold, dead eyes looked back at me as if to ask how I could have
let this happen.

That's when I saw the note.

	*Helter Skelter!*

It was just a small piece of notebook paper, stained in blood and tucked
into Foxy's open mouth, held in place by his dangling tongue.

I took the note from his mouth, my eyes dimly registering the way that the
smears of blood highlighted his tastebuds.  I knew I would never feed him
again, and I began to cry as I looked at the note, which was –- of
course -– written in my dog's blood.

It was misspelled, and said: YOUR NEXT.

	*Helter Skelter, yeah!/
	Ooooohhh!*

-­--­--­--­--­--­--­--­-­-

Rex was furious when he got home.

Not at me, of course, but at "the sick sons of bitches who could hurt a
poor dog."

He had owned dogs all his life, and still kept photographs of all of them.

"Sometimes dogs are better than people," he was fond of saying.

It was certainly true in this case.

Of course, we had a pretty good idea of who might have been behind this
gory late-night creepy-crawl through the yard.  If it hadn't been Kevin
Gorman himself, it had been one or more of his friends.

The rest of my suspension was spent with Rex at a local shooting range,
learning how to use his army pistol safely and with maximum accuracy.  On
Wednesday, a security company visited the house to install a state of the
art system.  Tynah didn't take a day off until Friday, but she finally had
to stay home because she was so distraught that she kept bursting into
tears every few minutes.  She had loved Foxy so much, and I wondered –-
selfishly -­ if her grief over that dog was even greater than her
concern for my safety.

Linda and Taine both came by the house often that week, and over the
weekend.  Taine kept me up with my assignments, delivering homework and
kisses with equal care and concern.  Linda was kind enough to tutor me a
little in math, which –- due to my absolute cluelessness in Algebra -–
we ended up working on more than our Duet.

We buried Foxy on Wednesday afternoon at a local pet cemetery, at Tynah's
insistence.  Rex was probably more broken up over Foxy's death than Tynah
was, but he wore a pained expression through the whole procedure as if he
found the whole ceremony to be a load of horseshit.  I must say that I
agreed, but Tynah was Tynah.

On Thursday, Sly Maxwell came over to talk to Rex.  They agreed that it
might be a good idea if Taine accompanied us to the shooting range on
Saturday, just to be safe.  This being Texas, I guess no one really
considered the implications of having angry, gun-toting teenagers around,
one of whom had beaten a much bigger upperclassman senseless and just had
his dog murdered.

Since Tynah stayed home on Friday, I did end up doing my share of chores
and cleaning.  I edged the yard, moved some furniture around so she could
vacuum, and washed and waxed her car.  Meanwhile, she did yoga in front of
the television and watched game shows.  I caught her crying a few times and
tried to console her, but was turned brusquely away.

Rex didn't blame me, but I'm pretty sure Tynah did.

I finally got some time away from the `rents on Friday night, when I went
to see *The Burning* with Taine.  Considering that I had just seen my dog
butchered in the backyard hammock, I don't know why we decided that the
bloody slasher film would be a good choice, but I made it through just
fine, admiring Tom Savini's gory special-effects wizardry right along with
Taine.

I guess it helped that our hands were clasped firmly together between our
seats throughout the film.

-­--­--­--­--­--­--­--

Taine came over at ten on Saturday morning, and Rex took us to the firing
range.  I could tell that my boy was distraught and not concentrating very
much, so I took him aside while Rex was taking a bathroom break.  I led
Taine down an empty hallway where we could have some privacy, then took him
in my arms gently and hugged his thin frame to mine.

"What's the matter, angel?" I asked with concern.

He looked at me wearily, and I realized just how exhausted he was with his
own emotional turmoil.

"I always wanted to learn to shoot," Taine said, leaning into my shoulder
as I stroked his hair.  "I always wanted Dad to teach me.  Now I'm learning
to shoot, but..."

"But it's the wrong dad," I finished for him.  "I know, Babes, I know.  But
we're here, and your dad is meeting us for dinner right after his
interview."

I tried to sound cheerful for him, but didn't embellish any further with
something dumb like "and I know he can't wait to see you!"  I wasn't Tynah,
after all, and Taine wouldn't have believed me anyway.

"Yeah," Taine said sadly.

The hopelessness and longing in that one word broke my heart.  Taine merely
sighed and hugged me tightly with his head against my neck.  I raised his
face to mine with a slight touch of my hand, then kissed him slowly and
tenderly, stroking the light fuzz along his dimpled chin.

"You know I love you," I said.  "I will always be here for you, and you'll
never be alone again."

He hugged me fiercely then, burying his face in my chest, and I was
surprised by his strength.  For a slender kid, he had some serious muscles
in his arms.  He pulled away from me reluctantly and jerked a thumb down
the hallway toward the range.

"We better get back before Rex worries," he said.  "I like your dad, Rick."

"I'm glad," I said happily.  "He likes you too.  He hasn't called you a
snot-bubble yet, but he likes you."

"He called me a Whod," Taine said proudly.  "That's better!"

I chuckled and threw an arm around his shoulder as we began walking down
the hall.

"I like your dad," Taine repeated quietly, looking at the floor.  "But I
love you."

I was grinning from ear to ear at his soft proclamation of his feelings for
me.  I could see that his ears had flushed bright red from the effort, and
knew how much it took out of him.  Still, I couldn't resist a tease.

"More than anything?" I asked expectantly.

He stopped walking, then, and turned so that he was looking me directly in
the eyes.  The look on his face, although as sad and serious as ever, was
full of love, and his voice was thick with emotion.

"More than everything," he said, and kissed me softly once again.

We went back to the range, where Rex was waiting for us with an impatient
look.  Taine didn't do any better at shooting this time either, and I could
tell that he was still despondent and distracted.  I supposed that
protecting us both would be my own responsibility, so I landed my entire
clip in the target's black circle, and Rex clapped me on the back in a rare
show of pride.

I wish I could say that I felt confident and ready after my display of
marksmanship, but I didn't.

One haunting thought kept running through my mind.

How was I going to protect myself and my Taine...

...when I couldn't even protect my own dog?

-----------------------

Thank you for reading Chapter 20 & 21.  To be continued...

"Helter Skelter" written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon. Performed by
The Beatles. c 1968 by Apple Records.

Once again, I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com.  You
have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I thank you all for your
e-mails, and there's plenty more of this story to come.

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