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Up in Arms

Page 67

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“I’ve been thinking while I worked out this afternoon. I think I should move into the guest room. Give you your space back until I can get a place. I can’t see how it’s gonna be anything but a nightmare coming toward us. I think we need to put some space between us until things die down. Especially if any one of the insurgents decide to come after me. I don’t want you to be a factor. Besides maybe moving to a hotel or someplace else will help in making things die down quicker for us.” Trevor said it all while staring out the front window. Reed knew without question he would have rather had the silence than this. He didn’t reply right away, just kept his eyes on the road, pulling onto the highway leading to his home.

“I don’t want space between us, Trevor. We’ve done nothing wrong. Babe, remember this morning? Remember our confessions to one another? I’ll remember each one for the rest of my life and I meant what I said. I love you, forever. I don’t want you to leave me. From where I’m standing, the worst case scenario from this media situation isn’t as bad as you deciding to leave me.” Reed spoke from his heart, but kept his eyes forward for fear the tears he felt might actually fall if he looked over at his handsome Trevor and saw anything resembling distain or resolve.

Trevor never acknowledged he heard Reed. An uncomfortable silence filled the SUV for the rest of the drive home. Pulling into the driveway, Reed quickly parked the truck and jumped out, but Trevor wouldn’t allow him to help move from the front seat or walk up the porch. Trevor did all the work with the help of his crutches. Reed knew Trevor’s arms must be sore and aching, ready to fall off from the exertion of the day, but Trevor never complained nor did he stop.

They just shut the front door when the doorbell rang. Reed turned to answer it while Trevor continued on. Looking over his shoulder, Reed was encouraged that Trevor was working his way in the direction of his bedroom while he went back to answer the door. He opened the large oak door wide, expecting to see a neighborhood child, but instead a news crew stuck a camera in his face and began pummeling him with questions. At the same moment, the home phone began to ring and his driveway filled with news van after news van, reporters all barreling from their side door. Reed pushed the reporters back, slamming the door in their faces. He quickly turned the lock, keeping them out. The pounding on the door and the ringing of his doorbell did not stop, nor did the phone stop ringing.

By the time Reed got the doorbell dismantled, all the windows locked and curtains drawn, the police were involved, controlling the at least fifty different news agencies in his front yard. They roped off his porch and assisted him in moving his SUV back to the garage, so they would have secure transportation in and out of the house. Reed’s father sent over several private armed security guards, who stood at the front and back doors of the home, making sure no one was able to break inside. As of now, Reed’s personal cell phone was still secure, and the only means of communication he had with his family.

About an hour and a half after the crews first arrived to his home, Reed finally made his way back to his bedroom to check on Trevor. A moment of panic hit Reed. Trevor had gathered the few belongings he came with and left his room. The new items Reed bought for Trevor were folded nicely on the end of the bed. The extended moment of panic gripped his heart for fear Trevor may have left his house, but he stopped that line of thinking. Even if Trevor wanted to leave, there was no way he would make it a foot out the door without being attacked by the eager, aggressive, bloodthirsty group of reporters.

Forcing himself to calm, Reed walked through the house, eating up the distance between his bedroom and the front guest room he prepared for Trevor’s arrival. A few steps from the door, he heard the sounds of the television. Deep relief flooded through him. Slowly, Reed came to a stop in the open doorway, looking at the gorgeous man sitting on the guest bed with his eyes trained on the television. Reed never crossed the imaginary line of the threshold, but stayed standing in the middle of the doorframe. There was no possible way Trevor could miss Reed standing there, but he never acknowledged him as he sat on top of the bedspread in the sweatpants he arrived in from Germany. For the briefest moment, Reed wondered what Trevor would have chosen to wear had he known Reed purchased those sweats for him before leaving Germany.

“This is where you would prefer to sleep tonight, Trevor?” Tension laced his words regardless of how casual Reed tried to be. Trevor did little more than nod his head, keeping his gaze on the television. “All right, whatever makes you most comfortable. I’ve planned on dinner being brought in, but that may be a little impossible at this point. I’ll reheat the enchiladas my mom made for you. I’ll bring you some in a bit.”

“I’m fine. I’m not hungry. I’m learning you’re a wealthy man, Reed. I assumed you made some money, but I had no idea how much. They’re reporting you’re worth somewhere around sixteen million dollars. Is that true?” Trevor asked, finally lifting his eyes from the television, turning an accusing glare his way.

“My financial worth means very little to me at this moment. I’m more concerned about your welfare, and you being in this bedroom. Didn’t our morning set anything right between us?”

“So it’s true then. I hoped it was a lie like so many of the things they’re spreading about me. You’ve been with a lot of men over the last ten years. The one just interviewed believed he was the love of your life. They interviewed him in France. His English wasn’t so good, but they captured enough to know you two spent years in love until you up and left him when he finally agreed to marry you. Several others have also been interviewed. Funny how they all felt you loved them and that they were special to you. I guess I understand all the condoms in this night stand. You’ve dated some really pretty men. As a matter of fact, all of them are beautiful. They fit you very well. None look anything like me.” Every word came out in a strong, unmistakable accusation. Trevor didn’t wait for an answer, just moved his eyes back to the TV.


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