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He stood in front of the whiteboard. Marius Eisler stared back at him, and Gary could almost hear his voice.
Find the monster who did this to me.
Chapter 4
Saturday, May 19
DAN PORTERawoke with a jolt, hurling words into the darkness that surrounded him. “Don’t go! Not yet!”
Useless words. The dream was over.
Except Dan knew deep down it was no dream, felt it all the way to hissoul.
He flung back the damp sheet and sat up, tremors still rippling through him.This is not fair.The vision—because that was all it could be—was unchanged from its previous incarnations. Some higher cosmic force clearly thought it acceptable to send him thesame fucking visionforthirteen fucking years.
At least he didn’t get it every night. Sometimes Dan would go for months without it. What followedthosestretched-out periods was nothing but stark fear.
What if I never get it again?
What if I never get to knowwhyI keep having it?
What if I never learn who he is?
Those fears outweighed any feelings that some… thing was treating him unfairly. He’d rather have the vision than nothing, because he lived in hope that one day….
It always began the same way. Dan was on all fours on a bed, a rumpled sheet beneath him, and some unseen figure was behind him, sliding into him. The friction was exquisite, as was the scent that permeated the air around them, a hint of patchouli and a woody aroma he couldn’t place. Now and again his mystery partner would move, covering Dan with his warm body, and it was then that Dan would see the man’s forearm with its tattoo. No images, just two words:Never Forget.
Dan’s heart pounded as it did during every such cryptic encounter. He longed to see the guy who alternated between fucking him with passion and making slow, lingering love to him, but there were no mirrors in the vision. Everything was distilled down to touch, smell, and sound. The man’s breath tickled his skin. His fingertips brushed against Dan’s nipples, tweaked them, tearing groans from his lips. His lips grazed Dan’s neck, his shoulders, his back. His grunts mingled with Dan’s, and they were noises of pleasure, desire, lust….
And with each sensual encounter, Dan knew, from balls to bones, that he was safe. On awakening he yearned to sink back into the vision, but it never replayed more than once a night.
I want to meet him. I need to know if he’s real.
Dan rubbed his chest, his fingers sliding through sweat. He traced the line of his scar.
Is he as real as this?
Chapter 5
Sunday, May 20
GARY SWITCHEDoff the car engine and sat, hands on the steering wheel, gazing at the house. Its cream exterior, sloping roof, red-brick chimney, and warm red roof tiles made it appear inviting, a home.
Which only goes to prove how deceptive appearances can be.
The external temperature had to be in the mid-to-high seventies, a beautiful day in Springfield, Mass., but Gary knew once he crossed that threshold, none of the day’s warmth would make it inside. The sunlight would do battle with his mom’s blinds and curtains, and the blinds and curtains would emerge victorious.
He gave himself a swift mental kick.I’m not being fair.Then the front door opened, and Gary’s procrastination was at an end. His dad stood in the doorway, arms by his side, no hint of a welcome in either his expression or his body language.
Get in there and do your duty.Because that was all this was, pure and simple. A duty visit. Every time Sunday lunch rolled around, he’d drive an hour and a half—if he was lucky—hoping that in the intervening days since his previous visit, something had changed. He’d sit there in his car, staring at his childhood home, the same thought as always in the forefront of his mind:This time it will be different.
He’d learned to live with disappointment.
Gary got out of the car, locked it, and walked along the path that led to the gable-ended front porch with its gleaming red front door, its curved stone steps, and its two stumpy pillars, on top of which sat terracotta pots containing manicured shrubs. The house was asymmetrical, but the front yard was not. Trimmed bushes squatted in front, small and rounded on either side of the steps, larger and more oval toward the corners of the house. Gardening had become his dad’s only pursuit since retirement, but it wasn’t a passion with him. Gary knew better. It was merely a means of keeping his mind occupied.
I’m just the same, though.Work kept the pain at bay. And when work ended….
He raised his hand in greeting, and his dad’s nod lightened his heart a little.
