Defined By Deceit

Llew finally used his strength and pushed the mayor off of him. He ran over to the bed and began untying one of Moss’ wrists. Maybe he was just too embarrassed, and once he got out of the compromising position, he’d be able to think more clearly. As Llew hurriedly raced to the other side of the bed to untie his other hand, he looked into his lover’s eyes, not liking at all what he saw. Sheer terror and panic. “Moss don’t do this. Are you crazy? You can’t let them think I was raping you.” He snarled angrily, “Tell them right—” Llew flew into the wall with the force of the mayor’s body.

“Leave him alone. I’ll kill you, goddamnit!”

Llew was able to block a few of the wild, out of control swings that Moss’ dad was taking at him. He pushed the mayor off him, and when he saw him stumble and fall over one of the gaming chairs, Llew took the opportunity to grab his bag and jeans, and get the fuck out of there. He got to the door, and turned back to look at Moss. He was just lying there curled in on himself like a truly traumatized victim.

“Damnit, Moss. Don’t do this! This is my fuckin’ life we’re talkin’ about! Moss, look at me!” Llew saw Mayor McGregor working his way back up and heading towards him. Llew took off down the hall, frantically stuffing one foot into his pants leg, just barely getting the other one in as he took the stairs four at a time down to the bottom floor. Mrs. McGregor screamed when she saw him, her hand shaking as she yelled into the phone.

“Mrs. McGregor. I wasn’t raping him! I swear! Moss is my boyfriend! You have to believe me!” He yelled at her. “He invited me over here!”

Her frantic scream for her husband meant that he wasn’t getting through to her. How could this be happening? They’d known him since he was in middle school. Did he all of a sudden look like a crazed rapist? Maybe so, with his entire body flushed and sweaty, wearing nothing except his inside-out jeans. Llew took off for the kitchen, grabbing his backpack on the way. He shouldered the back door open so hard that the glass pane shattered when it connected with the brick. He didn’t bother going for his bike, he could hear the police sirens in the distance. He took off at full speed through the McGregor’s backyard, hurdling the low picket fence and sprinting into the woods. The bushes and untamed branches bit at his bare chest while he tried desperately to distance himself from the wails of the cavalry coming after him. His feet took the worst of it. God only knew what was on that forest floor that dug into the tender skin. His head pounded while he pushed further towards his home. After a few more minutes, he had no choice but to stop. He doubled over, completely out of breath. Gasping and spitting as his lungs tried to get their fill of oxygen. This can’t be real, this can’t be real. Can’t.

He needed help. He reached at his pocket, but of course, there was nothing there. Damnit, his phone was at Moss’. The sirens grew louder, and he was sure the whole town would be on high alert soon, especially if Moss didn’t man the fuck up. He felt around in his book bag for his extra hoodie, quickly pulling that over his head and slinging the hood up. He had about a mile to go before he got to his house, then he could call his brother.

He figured he’d go down Baylor Street, since the lighting wasn’t as good, cut through the back side of the athletic field, and that would bring him to his neighborhood. Llew took off again, thinking to himself that this is what fugitives must feel like. It felt like shit. He got his back door open, and he swore that the sirens and screams were just outside his front door… or maybe it was the panic in his head echoing in his ears.

He locked his back door with shaking hands. He didn’t turn on any lights as he darted into the kitchen and yanked the receiver off the wall. It took four tries to get his brother’s numbered entered. The darkness of his small kitchen lit up with bright blues and reds. Oh no. Leslie please pick up. If he was at a club somewhere then he wouldn’t be able to hear his phone. “Leslie, pick up the fuckin’ phone!”

The voice mail clicked on and Llew thought he was going to have a panic attack. He heard voices and car doors slamming out front. He hit the redial and waited what seemed like an eternity before he heard his brother’s voice after the fifth ring.