Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)
“What did you find on the real stalker? He’s the one who left the dead animal in New York, right?” I swallow, nauseous from the memory.
“Yes. That one.” Mitch blushes deep red, fidgeting in his chair.
“What? What did you find?” Why is he suddenly embarrassed?
“Ummmm, after reviewing the content, the patterns, the way the notes and items became more explicit and angry…” Mitch hesitates, glancing up at me before dropping his gaze back to the table where he becomes fascinated with a small scratch on the surface.
“Just say it, Hale,” I snap, impatient and now a little worried about what he found.
“Many of the things I found lead me to believe that you may have crossed paths with this man before or have some kind of a tie to him.”
My heart skips a beat.
“What?” I whisper.
Mitch still doesn’t look at me. “I had to go back to when the notes first began and start my search there. Which includes any employees, friends, um…” he blushes an even deeper shade of red. “Doctors or patients you may have been in contact with.”
My stomach does a painful flip as my lungs punch out a heavy breath. I reach for my pocket, cursing when I realize I’m wearing sweatpants without pockets and left my stone upstairs.
He knows.
“I’m sorry, Gavin.” Mitch does in fact look sorry for intruding on my past, but that doesn’t help relieve the shame.
No one knows. Not Ross, not Adam, not Dax… only my mother, Ellie, and Hawke. And now Mitch. Mitch Hale knows that I tried to kill myself when I was seventeen and spent three months in a children’s psychiatric ward, released only because I turned eighteen and they couldn’t keep me against my will any longer.
I shoot to my feet, humiliation washing over me. Nausea and shame churn in my stomach, making me light headed.
“Gavin, it’s okay—”
I start backing away from the table. “I-I need…uh, I have to…”
Fuck it. Without explanation I turn on my heel and flee for my room, locking the door behind me. I rummage through my nightstand and pull out the smooth, cold rock, rolling it around in my fingers.
My eyes zero in on the bed, disheveled and covered in Mitch’s scent. I can’t stay here. It feels as if the walls are closing in on me, making it difficult to breathe.
Mitch knows that I’m a coward. That I’m weak and gave up. That I allowed my father to bully me into suicide because I couldn’t or wouldn’t stand up to him.
Big, strong, fearless Mitch Hale won’t ever look at me the same again. A wave of panic crashes over me, threatening to drag me under. My knees buckle and I have to grab the edge of the bed to keep from hitting the floor.
Scrabbling, I locate my phone and fumble until I find the correct entry. It only rings once before it’s answered.
“Hey. I need to get out of here or I am going to lose it,” I confess to the person on the other end.
“I’ll be right there.”
I end the call and sink to the carpet cursing myself for thinking I could ever leave my past behind. I hadn’t realized how important it was to have Mitch’s respect until it was gone.
Mitch
How did everything get so screwed up so fast?
One minute Gavin and I were tangled together, sweaty and writhing, the next, he’s shut me out and locked himself in his room.
I pace the back patio, staring out at the view of the city. It’s hot and hazy today, the smog dense around the tall buildings. The back of my shirt becomes sticky within minutes.
Wow, it’s really hot out.
The pool glistens in the sun, inviting and cool. I’m already barefoot, so I roll up the bottom of my jeans and sit on the edge, sticking my feet in the cold water.