Page 31 of Edge

Jory stared at the wall,eyes fixed on a chip in the paint. In his mind, he saw himself walkover to the wall and bash his head repeatedly against its hardconcrete surface. Perhaps then the heaviness in his chest andstomach would lessen, and the blood and brain matter wouldalleviate the guilt and be a form of recompense for what he’ddone.

“No, no, no,”he chanted, each word growing louder. “This can’t be happening.” Hebecame aware of the bedroom door opening, a hand squeezing hisshoulder, and Damian’s warm breath against his cheek.

“What’s wrong,baby? Breathe, Jory. Christ, you look terrible. Sit down.” Jory wasgently, but firmly pushed into a chair, which appeared from nowhereas Damian handed him a glass of water. “Drink,” he commanded, hisexpression stern. “You can continue the call in a minute.” It wasonly then Jory noticed he no longer held his phone, which was nowin Damian’s hand. The sounds of irritated squawking coming from thespeaker echoed in the room, but Damian had it managed. Face creasedin annoyance and distaste, he growled into the phone, “Shut thefuck up, you wanker. Give us a minute, then he’ll speak toyou.”

Jory heard Roger askingwho the fuck Damian was, but his lover ignored it, and simplynodded approvingly as Jory sipped the water obediently. The coolingliquid soothed the sour taste at the back of his throat, andfinally he felt ready to continue the conversation. Well, as readyas he’d ever been for the next question.

“I’m okay,” hecroaked. “Let me speak to him again.”

Damian nodded and passedthe phone over. Jory knew despite his entreaty for privacy, therewas no way Damian was going to leave now. Part of him was thankfulfor it.

“I’m here,” hesaid softly.

Roger gave a loud snort.“Who the hell was he? One of your fuck buddies?” His angerresonated down the phone.

Jory shook his head. “No.It’s none of your business what his role in my life is, but he’scertainly not a fuck buddy. Tell me about Ramsay. Did you haveanything to do with his death?”

Beside him, Damian gave asharp intake of breath as he exclaimed, “What the hell? What doesthat mean?”

I’ll need toexplain it all to him now. He’s not going to let it lie.

Jory waved a hand atDamian to stay quiet. “So did you?” he asked again.

Roger was silent. When hespoke again, Jory heard the triumph in his tone. “I guess that’sfor me to know and you to find out. I own you, Edge, so you’dbetter start treating me better, or you may find your friend listgrowing even shorter.”

The phone clicked off andall Jory could do was gaze at his mobile, feeling numb andshattered.

He didit.

OMG. Hereally did it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jory

I love a goodthreesome, and last night was epic. I’ve never been railed so hardand had my cock sucked with such enthusiasm at the same time. Andwatching Richard B fuck Antonio V as he did? Jesus, I’ve neverjerked off so hard. I thought my dick might explode. Who’d knowLondon’s favourite LGBT couple of the moment would be so fuckingfilthy. Shit, writing about this is giving me another boner. 4 July2020

All the breakfast Joryhad eaten made its way back up and he lurched from the chair andscrambled to the bathroom. Acid scarred his throat as he knelt overthe toilet and vomited up the morning’s breakfast. It’d gone downwell, but coming up… Jory felt wretched. There was nothing left nowbut the sense of dread and guilt and the knowledge his life wasover.

Damian was at his side,rubbing his back, but mercifully saying nothing. Jory didn’t thinkhe could bear words right now. Words were what had destroyed him.And Ramsay.

After he finished spewingup the contents of his stomach, Damian silently handed him anotherglass of water. Jory took it, drinking it down to wash the taste ofdespair from his mouth. He leaned back against the cold tiles whereonly an hour ago, he and Damian had made love, and Jory had thoughthe might have a chance at a normal life.

The bathroom resonatedwith silence and thrummed in Jory’s eardrums. For a moment, heclosed his eyes and tried to calm his rapidly beatingheart.

Damian slid down the wallbeside him, knees bent, his arms resting on them as he looked downat the marble floor. “I’m sorry you’re going through whatever thisis,” he waved a hand around the bathroom,” but I’m here for you.Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

Jory swallowed, wincingat the burn, and opened his eyes to look at Damian. His lover’sface was pale and set, his eyes filled with pain, and somethingelse. Jory heaved a shuddering sigh and stood, his legstrembling.

He held out a hand. “Comeon. If I’m going to spill my guts, I don’t want to do it here whereI’ve barfed up everything and it smells yucky.” He tried to smile.“I’d rather do it back in the bedroom where my good memoriesare.”

Damian took Jory’s hand,and Jory pulled him up. “Give me a minute to wash my face and brushmy teeth again,” he muttered. “I’ll see you in aminute.”

Damian nodded and leftthe bathroom. Jory freshened up, stared at his pale face in themirror, then nodded tiredly to himself.

Time to sharemy secrets.

He couldn’t help feelinga surge of relief at the notion of unburdening himself.