Chapter Fifteen

Ethan

The next day.

 

After leaving Frederick in the hotel yesterday, I didn’t do much. I went home and chewed myself out for treating him so poorly, after I’d just professed my love for him. To love and care for him. Instead I spend time alone with my thoughts. A lot of time at my kitchen table with the lights off, a few cans of beer, and complete silence.

Today though, I’m on my way to a bar. A pretty divey one as far as watering holes go. It’s not my first choice, but given that a lot of the other bars might pay too much attention to Riley’s and my conversation, I’m all for it. Louie’s will work just fine for my mood…for what Jensen, Riley and myself will undoubtedly be discussing.

I park my car in a parking structure shortly before we agreed to meet at 5 PM. From the parking structure, I walk to Louie’s trying to gather my thoughts. My emotions. Ever since spending the night with Frederick and then leaving after a daunting fight, I’ve been a wreck. I feel a storm brewing inside, conflicting my thoughts and desires.

By the time I push through the door of Louie’s (the glass on it is faded, cracked and marked with what looks like stained glass art, or at least someone’s attempt at it), Jensen and Riley are already there. Like the perfect husband and wife duo, they’re already seated at the bar. Riley in her usual combination of skirt, blouse and blazer, while Jensen is still in his fatigues from his work doing survival training for airmen at the base. He still has the training manual with him, sitting on the bar, right next to his drink and cheesy pretzels.

Believe it or not, it’s actually Jensen who introduced us all to this place. It was through his motorcycle club. But I guess it shouldn’t be that surprising, since the man served in the Navy for a good many years before going on “reserved” status. It mostly happened after he married Riley, and Riley dedicated her law firm to helping out local veterans. From what I hear, the law firm works with charities to help veterans and their families. Which is exactly why Riley and her firm jumped into high gear the moment any charges were brought against me.

This isn’t their first time at the rodeo. A fact I’m left to appreciate as I make my way to an empty barstool next to them. Though they don’t turn at the sound of my approaching footsteps, they don’t look surprised at all to see me either.

Before I can even say “hi” or “how are you.” Riley gets the attention of the bartender — a pretty little thing with purple and black hair, and hearts drawn on her face with what she tells me is licorice-scented marker. She orders me an Arnold Palmer with a bit of vodka. How did she know?

While the bartender’s busy making my spiked iced tea and lemonade, Riley goes right for the jugular.

“Where the hell have you been, Ethan? I’ve been trying to reach you like crazy over the last 24 hours, and I haven’t been able to. Where did you go off to?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “You have no idea how many worst-case scenarios have been running through my head. How many times I thought that you might have been kidnapped and held hostage by someone related to this case. By someone who doesn’t want you to testify, or doesn’t like you.”

I grimace.

“It’s nothing like that,” I assure her, but I know the reality isn’t much better.

Jensen dives in, right alongside her.

“Then what is it? Why did you go MIA like that?”

I swallow thickly, knowing I have to be honest with them. Especially Riley. She’s my lawyer. She is my only real defense against any of these charges I’m going to be facing, if Frederick doesn’t do anything to fix this.

“I’ve been sleeping with him.” I say under my breath. As quietly as I possibly can, so that even the clinking of the glass rolls like thunder over my words.

“What?” Riley sounds more incredulous and alarmed than confused. She’s definitely heard what I just said, but she’s going to make me repeat it.

“I’ve been sleeping with him. With Frederick,” I say, realizing how bad and ill-conceived it sounds, now that I’ve said it out loud.

“Oh, honey, no,” says Riley, looking like she’s going to need another round of whatever she’s drinking.

“I couldn’t help it,” I say. “Both times one thing led to another, and before I knew it…”

In my head I see myself fucking Frederick, and then Frederick fucking me. I hear our reckless enjoyment of each other—of each other’s bodies, holes and hearts.

“It just sort of happened… but I know it was wrong. I know it shouldn’t be happening. Especially not know.”

“You’re damn right not now, Ethan,” Riley hisses, sounding and looking like the hungry velociraptor at the end of one of my favorite movies. Either that, or the spitting dinosaur whose venom is toxic and makes you blind.

“You’re under investigation, for fuck’s sake!” Jensen adds, just as the bartender serves me my drink. It’s cold and causing a delicious condensation on the glass.

“Have you forgotten that?” Riley picks up again. “Have you forgotten that he’s the one who’s accused you of serious crimes? Have you forgotten how fucked up that kid is, Ethan?”

I take a long, nervous slurp of my Arnold Palmer. As I do, my mind wanders to the last conversation I had with Frederick. How he admitted to Captain Stern being involved somehow in his allegations against me, but his unwillingness to do anything about it. His unbending insistence on powerlessness when it comes to my reputation and what I could stand to lose just a year shy of retirement.

When I do speak to Riley, it’s to make her feel better. And to make my head stop swimming. Without meaning to, I’ve downed almost half of my drink without stopping so much for a breath of air.

“I thought I was starting to fall for him, but as of yesterday I think I’ve just been a fool about all of it.” Between my words, Jensen orders us another round. “Especially when he’s so much younger than me. Then admitting to pin the charges on me because of Captain Stern in some way.”

Now it’s Jensen’s turn to sound incredulous.

“Wait. What?”

I look over Riley to Jensen.

“Yeah. I asked him if Captain Stern had anything to do with his allegations against me, and he said yes. He wouldn’t say how or why exactly, but he did confirm your suspicions.”

I clam up, putting my mouth back over the straw in my drink. As I do, I make plans to drink the last half with just as much gusto and carelessness as the first.

“Not that it matters much now,” I add from over my straw, thinking of how angry and hurt Frederick looked when I left him there at the hotel. “We fought after that, and I haven’t talked to him since.”

“And I hope you don’t have any more future plans to talk with him,” says Riley sternly, while ordering another side of cheese sauce. Beer cheese with jalapeno sauce, apparently. Not just any cheese sauce will do with pretzels, I guess.

“Remember, Ethan, that young guy has a lot of stuff wrong with him, mentally and emotionally. You cannot let him get to you. You cannot let him draw you in, or let him fuck you up in this mess any more than he has already.”

“He is accusing you of sexual misconduct,” adds Jensen in a whisper, as he dives into the beer cheese. “Don’t forget how serious those charges are, Ethan.”

I drain my drink down to the ice cubes in the bottom of the glass, while his eyes dare me to brush them off.

“He accused you of rape, Ethan. Do you understand that? Do you understand what that means?” says Riley. “If that charge, plus others stick— misuse of power, abuse of a younger member of the Navy — you could face serious jail time. And not just in the county clink. In prison… a military prison more specifically.”

For the first time since I received the initial notice of charges filed, I feel sick to my stomach and incapable of breathing.

Riley looks unconcerned with my discomfort. If anything, she looks solemnly pleased by it, as if to say, he’s finally getting it. Like my dad would probably look if he were alive and here now, able to see and hear the mistakes I’ve made in the last 72 hours.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop messing around with him. You’ll stop all contact, whether technological or physical. He already has you out of the frying pan heading straight into the fire.”

“Don’t let him make it worse for you,” interjects Jensen, making eye contact with me from the other side of his wife.

“Don’t let him take you for a ride into hell with him, okay?” Riley pleads. “However much you think you love him, he’s not worth the risk. The damage you’re already bound to suffer if nothing changes.” She pauses, taking a serious suck of her straw. “I’d like to think that this little revelation about Captain Stern’s connection and/or involvement will be helpful, but I’m not going to rest all of my hopes on it.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder for emphasis.

“You have to start being more sensible than this and stop being blinded by his little puppy dog face and eyes. You need to realize you’re facing a damaged young man. A man who doesn’t know what he’s capable of inflicting upon others until he’s already done it.”

I shiver at this, unable to keep myself from believing the sense it’s starting to make.

After all, if Frederick really did love me — and admires and worships me as much as he says he does — he would’ve done anything and everything in his power to reverse these charges being brought against me. Wouldn’t he? Is Riley right?

So why hasn’t he? Why doesn’t he just go to his lawyer and do something about the charges then? From the moment I think it and finish the thought, my heart freezes over. Because then he’ll get charged with making false statements — numerous ones — about a Captain. A fellow member of the Navy, which could land him in prison.

I feel awful. Awful for being angry at him for his mistakes. I feel terrible for feeling frustrated and taking that frustration out on him like I did at the hotel. But even so, I can’t look away from Frederick’s responsibility. How his actions speak louder than his words. That he’s not willing to do anything and everything to protect me and preserve my standing in the Navy and surrounding community. Which he should do if he loves me.

As if Jensen has heard every bit of my internal dialogue, he says.

“I will do whatever I have to clear your name, Captain Gibson. I will go to the pits of hell if I have to, but you’ve got to stay away from Frederick. You must end it with him before this looks any worse for you than it already does.” He fixates on me with a sad and sober expression. “I don’t want everyone to think that just because you’re gay, you’re a rapist.”

Rapist. That one word reverberates through my world, my consciousness, shattering everything. Every bit of hope I had for having a healthy relationship with Frederick. And every bit of a dream I had of continuing my healthy transition from being a closeted gay man to being an out and proud one.

Dammit. Damn me. Damn everything! I put a hand up to my eyes and squeeze. I’ve been labeled a rapist! For the first time since all of this came down on me, I’m finally appreciating the depth and seriousness of what I’m facing. The monstrous reality of my charges — of the insinuated connection between myself and Frederick. Why Riley advised me so strongly against pursuing anything to do with him. Even trying to talk with him or take pity on him. And I did more than that! I slept with him! Twice! If this ruins what I’ve been working toward my entire life, I guess I deserve it! It’s my punishment for getting involved with someone so twisted. So disturbed!

Somehow though, even as I think all of this — even as I shed quiet, harsh tears over my stupidity and what I feel is Frederick’s cruelty — I can’t truly hate him. Not really. Not even when I tell my heart to keep track of all the wrongs he’s done me, all the damage he’s done and could still do to me. I can’t turn away. I can’t hate him even though I’ve acted like it.

I love him. I can’t live without him, I realize, feeling even more damned by this than his charges. It’s too late. No matter what I do, what anyone says, I can’t not love him. I can’t tell myself to feel differently about him. I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. Squeezing and pressing on my eyes even more. In my head, now all I see is Frederick. His beautiful smile and gorgeous body. The way his dick looks and smells. The way it feels in my mouth and my ass. Only love would force me to think and feel for you this way! Only love would make me throw myself at you, even though you could hold nothing but destruction and ruin for me.

I bring my hand away from my eyes and nose, deciding I’m done here. I’m done at the bar. I get up, without so much as a word to either Jensen or Riley. I don’t stop or offer them any explanation, even when they shout at me for one.

I’m going home. When I get home I’m going to text Frederick. I’m going to apologize and ask him to forgive me. And then I’m going to make plans to help save him from Captain Stern.

If love is going to make me crazy, I might as well use that “crazy” for some good. Either that, or admit to Frederick that I don’t deserve him.