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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Stonegate Stables - 14. Chapter 14

This course consisted of 13 jumping efforts, all of them big and imposing, but nothing Donna couldn't handle on a good day. We cleared the first four obstacles cleanly, powered over the water with a couple inches to spare, then turned to the big spread that had taken out the horse in front of me. This was the exact same jump that had caused my accident, and I knew a sharp, quick spike of fear as I steadied Donna with my knees and kept her reined in until three strides before the fence. When I knew she was on stride, I loosened the reins slightly and urged her forward. She responded with a surge of power that I didn't know she had in her, and we were over that big fence with daylight under her belly. The crowd ooo'd appreciatively as we made it cleanly through the next three efforts, then came to 8A/B/C, an oxer/oxer/vertical triple combination designed to separate the men from the boys, so to speak.

I gathered her up to get the striding perfect, then let her go over the first oxer, pulled her back for the three strides to the 2nd oxer, then really throttled her back for a stride, let her go on the next one and lifted her over the vertical. The rest of the course was no problem; we were clean and under the time allowed. I trotted her back to Carlos, swapped the saddle, and hopped onto Calvin.

Vincent gripped my knee and I leaned down to kiss him, feeling my oats now that I had a clean round under my belt.

It was about 45 minutes 'til they called us and by then Calvin and I were both wet with nervous sweat. I hoped my little tricks worked. In addition to the blinders, I had stuffed his ears with cotton to keep the noise of the crowd from distracting him.

He shifted sideways, dancing along as we entered the ring and I checked him sharply, trying to get his attention on me. As we went through the cones, I tuned out everything but the big animal moving beneath me and took him over the first fence. As we landed, he bolted ahead of my hands but I got him back quickly, and we made it through the first four jumps with no problem. We galloped the water, sailing over it at full speed. He fought me as I pulled him back for the huge spread jump coming up five strides away and I’d barely got him under control when I had to release him for the take-off. We were too close, but he made it over with only a light rub on the near rail.

By the time we came to the triple combination, he had settled down a little and was listening to my hands. We finished with no jumping or time faults, qualifying us for the jump-off. Three other horses had clean rounds, including Adam, and we all milled around the warm-up area while the ring crew prepared the arena. I was first and last since I had two horses. Donna and I entered the ring and I quickly looked over the course. There were only seven jumps this time and I saw two places where I could maybe shave some time off by cutting things close, but not on Donna. We went as quickly as I thought she could handle; she took down the top rail of the vertical, so we had four faults.

The next horse bombed out by taking apart the 2nd half of the double combination. The 3rd horse was Adam who was clean and beat Donna's time by a few ticks, so Donna was now in 2nd place. The 4th horse was a big mare ridden by a rookie whose nerves took over part way around. They ended with 12 faults, bombing through the last three fences like a bull in a china shop.

Then I was in the ring on Calvin. Unfortunately, he knew what a jump-off meant and was ready to rock and roll. I used up every second of the time allotted before you had to get through the start cones, then turned him loose and we rocketed over the first two jumps. As he landed on the far side of the oxer, I pulled him sharply to the right between two fences and asked him for a major effort over the vertical.

He pulled it off, landing a little awkwardly, but suddenly I felt him understand what I wanted. He sharpened up and when I cued him for a left lead in the air over jump six, he was right there with me and leaned over hard to make the turn, his feet gouging out swaths of turf. The last jump was the big spread again, my nemesis, and I gritted my teeth as we came to it with only two strides to get ready. I felt Cal lengthen his last stride slightly, then he was in the air in what felt like a leap big enough to get us over the moon. The rails flashed beneath him and we were thundering through the finishing cones, his neck stretched out, ears pinned back, me leaned out over his neck yelling in his ear. What a rush. I swear to God, it's almost as good as sex.

I glanced at the clock and saw that we'd done it - Calvin had won his first GP. I stood in the stirrups and pumped my fist in the air, too jazzed to be dignified about it, and the crowd went nuts. As we left the arena, Amanda, Adam, Carlos, and Vincent converged on us, grinning and whooping. I slid off into their arms; we all hugged each other and anyone else who got close enough. I managed to get my act together for the presentation ceremony, smiling and shaking hands with the promoters. I remembered to thank all my sponsors, and I dedicated the win to William.

The barn was a mob scene with media people wanting interviews, more women with daughters, and lots of horse people. Amanda, bless her heart, had bought champagne that morning with high hopes. Amazingly, I had fulfilled them, and we drank to second chances, pouring plastic flutes for everyone who stopped by.

I was pretty buzzed when I felt Vincent's eyes on me and turned to him. He wasn't smiling any longer and the expression on his face gripped my heart with a tight fist.

"Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?" he said softly. "I love you so much."

I smiled into those dark eyes that knew me so well and replied, "I know you do."

We got home Monday afternoon and just stayed around the house, me still floating along on the high of winning, which was only slightly diminished by my wicked champagne hangover. Tuesday we went off to work as usual; I finally got away from the stable at six and loped most of the way home..The kitchen light was on so at least I could look forward to a hug in a few minutes, and hopefully a big glass of wine wasn’t far behind. I pushed into the kitchen with a smile starting, but the room was empty and there weren’t any signs of dinner. I glanced around and saw his chef's jacket on the back of a chair.

“Vincent?” My voice echoed back to me and I began to get uneasy. I walked into the hall and saw something lying on the floor near the stairs. As I picked it up, I recognized the shirt I had given Vincent for his birthday last year. It had been torn down the front and I stared stupidly at it for a moment until panic grabbed me and I sprinted up the stairs two at a time yelling his name. His pants were crumpled in the hall, loose change flung all over, as though they'd been ripped from his body in a struggle. I ran down the hall, freezing in shock at the door to our room.

Vincent was tied face down on the bed by his wrists with thin yellow nylon rope. His arms were stretched wide, pulling his shoulder blades tight to the center of his back. He had tucked his legs up sideways, trying to curl into himself; a thin trickle of blood ran from his ass down to a dark stain on the pale yellow sheet, and several thick white ropes of cum were splashed across his butt. I heard a raw, animal howl come from my throat as I ran to him, trying desperately to untie him with hands that shook so badly I gave up and yanked my pocket knife out, hacking at the ropes just above his wrists. He had fought hard; the twisted nylon cut deeply into his skin and was red with his blood. When his arms were free, he tucked them to his chest and curled into a fetal position.

There were several small dark holes on one side of his lower back and it took my brain three endless, horrified seconds to identify them as burns from the lit end of a cigarette. Beneath the dark ash of burnt skin, they oozed clear fluid and blood. I gagged a few times, then began to cry in big heaving sobs. Vincent's eyes were closed and his face was bruised and scraped, with blood welling from a split in his lip. I climbed onto the bed next to him, desperate to touch him but not sure how badly he was injured so I just pulled the sheet up over him and lay down with my arm over his shoulder. We were both shaking badly and my teeth chattered so hard that I couldn't stop them.

Vincent kept his eyes closed and didn't speak while I dialed 911, having to repeat the address three times before she could understand me. While we waited, I tried to calm down and talk to him, but he lay there silently trembling and that scared me almost as much as his physical injuries.

I was still holding him when the paramedics came into the room. I moved out of the way while they checked him carefully for broken bones and spinal damage, eventually loading him onto a stretcher with an IV to help with shock. Since his injuries weren't life threatening, one of the medics took a quick look at me. After he made me sit down and drink a glass of water, I quit shaking so badly, and he gave me the okay to drive.

I followed the ambulance to the hospital, calling Dylan on the way. Adam was with him so they called Cody, TJ, and Vincent's parents, and by the time I arrived, Cody, who had happened to be three minutes from the hospital, was waiting for me. Wade was out of town.

"What the hell happened. Dylan said Vincent was attacked!" Cody was wild eyed and grabbed me when I came in the door. When he got a good look at my face, he folded me into his arms and held on tight for a minute. He kept his arm around me as we headed for the desk to ask about Vincent.

They told us he was being treated and the doctor would be out to talk to us when he was finished. As Cody led me to a chair, Adam and Dylan burst through the door, spotted us and came running over. I told them what I had found when I got home, crying again through the worst parts. As I was blowing my nose, a doctor in bloody green scrubs came through the swinging doors and walked over to us.

"Any of you related to Vincent D'Ambruzzo?"

I spoke up. "He's my partner. How bad is he hurt?"

The doctor looked at me closely, then relaxed a little. "He's going to be fine. He's pretty banged up, and there was some anal tearing but nothing serious. It will take a couple weeks for him to heal but there won't be any permanent damage. The burns on his back will require cosmetic surgery to prevent scarring but after a year or so, you'll hardly be able to see them. His wrists will scar also, but not badly."

He took another look at our frightened, angry faces. "This was a brutal attack. We report these types of victims to the police, so someone will be here soon to get your statements." He paused again, and then put his hand on my arm, squeezing lightly.."We're going to keep him at least overnight. We've given him pain meds but you can see him if you like."

Vincent was in a curtained area lying on his side facing away when I came in. A sheet was pulled up to his waist, the burns on his back were covered with white ointment. He was curled up again with his arms against his chest.

"Vincent?"

When he didn't reply, I walked slowly around the bed.

"Vincent?" His eyes were closed but he silently reached out a trembling hand. I started to cry again as I took it in both of mine and pressed it to my mouth, leaning close to him. "You're gonna be okay, sweetheart. God, I love you so much."

His fingers tightened on mine and his face slowly crumbled as he began to cry, deep wrenching sobs that shook his whole body. I wrapped my arm around him above the burns and held him until the worst of it passed. Once he finally broke down, I was able to pull myself together, to be strong for him. I blew my nose on the fistful of tissues I'd been clutching and wiped Vincent's bruised face gently. He had relaxed a little and hugged my arm to his chest, burying his face in my hand. He drew several shuddering breaths and sighed deeply. He still had not looked at me. I knelt down so our faces were level.

"Vincent." His eyes were swimming in tears when he opened them to mine, his black lashes wet and spiky, and the despair in them was horrible to see. I brushed his hair back from his face and kissed him softly. "I love you. I love you."

He nodded tiredly and whispered, "I know you do." His voice was hoarse and the dreadful thought came to me that it was probably from screaming when they burned him. He looked at me for a few more seconds, then his eyes glazed over and he drifted off into a drugged sleep. I kissed his forehead, then his palm, curling his fingers over the kiss, and left him there.

A police officer and Vincent's parents were in the waiting room talking to the doctor. I hugged his folks and assured them that he was okay but sleeping; they went in to stay with him for a while. The officer took my statement and I gave him an access code to the house so that he could send a crime scene team to collect whatever evidence they could find.

The doctor took me aside after the cop left. "Vincent isn't talking except to answer our questions. That's not unusual after an attack like this so I'm recommending him for psychiatric counseling, at least a couple sessions. It can be helpful for the partner of the victim to take part." I nodded my understanding, wondering just how much damage Vincent had incurred. He told me Vincent would sleep through the night so we all went to Cody's house; I couldn't face going home.

I told them about the marks I'd seen on Vincent's wrists years ago. That was the only thing I could think of that made any sense. I didn't even know the guy's name but he must have found out that Vincent was living with me and ambushed him in the house. I didn't know how big this guy was, but doubted he could have overpowered Vincent by himself, so he must have brought help. Knowing that our home had been the scene of such sick violence suddenly made me ill and I ran to the bathroom, heaving my guts dry while Dylan kept a hand on my neck.

When I sat back on my heels, shaky, pale, and sweating, Cody turned on the shower while Dylan stripped me. Cody got naked and pulled me into the tub, washing me as if I was a kid and hugging me when I started to cry. I just felt like I would never stop. To see Vincent beaten and brutalized like that was more than I could cope with. When they got me out of the shower and dried off, Dylan and Adam climbed into bed with me, one on either side, rubbing my back, talking softly to me. All that body contact was comforting and I fell into an exhausted sleep. I woke around 3am to a quiet house.

I still felt horrible, with a big knot in my stomach, and red, scratchy eyes from crying so much but I was calmer. I slid out of bed, pulled on my shorts, and walked out into the living room. TJ was lying on the couch in just his jeans, with one arm behind his head, studying the ceiling. He glanced over when I came into the room.

"Hey. Sorry I didn't get here 'til late. You doing okay?"

"Yeah. Just can't sleep anymore."

"Come here." He sat up a little and leaned back against the arm of the couch, holding out a hand to me. I settled in between his legs, snuggling up against his warm, bare chest, and sighed heavily when he began to rub big slow circles on my back. "I'm so sorry this happened to you guys."

"Me, too. I still can't believe it. They burned him. What kind of sick fuck holds a lit cigarette to someone?"

He hugged me tighter for a moment, shaking his head. "I don't know." We lay there dozing until it began to get light.

Adam wandered in, kissed me, and sat at the other end of the couch with TJ's feet in his lap. Cody came in next, smiled at the three of us on the couch, and went to make coffee, ruffling my hair on his way by. Dylan finally woke up when he smelled the coffee, stumbling out of his room rumple headed, scratching his crotch and yawning.

"Jesus, you're a scary sight in the morning," TJ said with a chuckle.

Dylan gave him the finger and collapsed into a chair. "I love you, too."

Cody came in with coffee and the room fell silent as we all blew and sipped. He looked at me.

"What do you want to do, Sean. We need to get your car from the hospital, and you probably want clean clothes. Adam and I'll help you with that.&quot. He stopped for a moment. "Where do you want to take Vincent when he's released?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know. I'm not sure he'll want to go back to the house."

"You know you can stay here. Wade doesn't get back 'til Sunday so it'll be quiet. The big guest room has its own bath so you can have some privacy."

"Thanks. Let me talk to Vincent today and see if he's even getting out. It might be tomorrow." We showered and ate, an. then Adam and Cody drove me to the house. A police van was in the driveway so I went up to speak to them; the guy in charge told me they'd be done in an hour or so. I spoke with Maria and made a few phone calls.

When we got to the hospital, Vincent was in a regular room but I went up alone, not sure if he'd want to see anyone else yet. He was lying on his side, eating green Jello. The bruises on his face had darkened to purple and his lip was puffy and raw, but he smiled when he saw me and I felt a hundred times better. I took his face carefully in my hands and kissed his good cheek. He nuzzled into me and laid a hand over one of mine. We stayed like that for a few minutes, just soaking up the feel of each other. We hadn't spent a night apart since he'd moved in and I missed him desperately.

Although he was doing fine, the doctor decided to keep him another day, so I left after assuring him I'd be back in the afternoon. I spent the day shopping for all Vincent's favorite foods - smoked oysters, sharp cheddar cheese, Cocoa Puffs - and I fixed up one of the guest rooms in case we couldn't face our room yet.

When I went back at four, he was sleeping, so I sat and watched him, studying the marks on his face and wishing a slow, painful death on whoever did this to him. He came awake gradually, blinking a few times before he focused on me. We smiled a slow smile at each other as I leaned in and kissed him. He kissed me back this time and it was all I could do not to climb into bed with him. He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.

"Let's walk or something. I need to get the fuck out of here." We put another hospital gown on him backwards so his butt was covered and walked slowly out into the hall. He moved a little stiffly, but loosened up as we went along.

A nurse told us there was a solarium on the top floor, so we took the elevator up. It was a big sunlit room and we settled down on one of the couches with Vincent facing me so we could hug each other. I was afraid of hurting his back but he said, "I don't care. I need you to hold me." So I did.

We just sat there for a while, cuddling, and kissing a little, although his lip was pretty sore. A few people came and went, but no one bothered us.

"When will they let you go home?"

"They're waiting for me to take a crap," he said with a snort. "If I can shit with no problem, they'll turn me loose." I raised an eyebrow at him and he blew out a breath, shaking his head. "I'm working on it, okay. It's not exactly something I'm looking forward to right now."

That was the first reference he'd made to the attack and I wondered if he'd ever tell me exactly what happened, or if he even remembered. Eventually, we got hungry and went back to his room. A detective was waiting to talk with him and Vincent looked at me with an odd expression. I took the hint and left after promising to be back at ten the next morning.

On the way home, I called Jesse, the guy who owned the security company. "Jesse, this is Sean. You came to Wade's birthday party at my place. You said if I ever needed anything . . . "

"Hey, Sean, how's it going?"

"Not so hot." I told him what had happened and he was silent for a long moment.

Son of a bitch. I fuckin' hate it when the assholes score one. I'm so sorry. I'll get a couple guys over there today. Call me back when you know he's coming home."

Vincent managed to perform later that night, so he was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when I arrived the next morning. I called Jesse while the nurse was getting a wheelchair.

We got through the paperwork, the wheelchair ride to the door, into the car in under an hour, and were driving out of the parking lot when I asked him what he wanted to do.

"Are you okay with going back to the house. Or Cody said we can stay at their place for a few days."

He looked squarely at me. "No, I want to go home." I nodded and that's what we did.

Jesse's guys were there; we spotted one of them at the far corner of the house, the other was out back somewhere. The house bore no traces of what had taken place and Vincent seemed glad to be back. Maria was there and had lunch ready for us in the sunroom after she fussed over Vincent for a few minutes.

After lunch, Vincent lay down in the den for a nap and I ran over to the stable to make sure everything was copasetic. Everyone wanted to hear what happened and how Vincent was doing. I gave them the Cliff Notes version and assured them that Vincent was going to be fine but I kept the details to myself.

I peeked into the den when I got back. Vincent was curled into the back of the couch, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed quietly. I watched him for a moment and just as I began to step into the room, a hard hand gripped my shoulder and pulled me back. I turned to look up into Jesse's somber face. He shook his head at me, hugged me briefly, then walked to Vincent, sitting down next to him and engulfing him in those big solid arms. Vincent just collapsed into him and began to cry hard, his face buried into Jesse's broad chest. I turned away and slid my back down the wall to sit on the floor in the hall, crying a little myself, aching for him.

Finally, I wandered away and let him find me a while later in the kitchen where I was putting the finishing touches on our dinner of scrambled eggs. We ate slowly, making small talk and I wondered how long it would take us to feel comfortable with each other again. I knew he needed time, but it was so hard to see him like this, so different from his usual friendly, loving self. Jesse was nowhere to be seen, which I came to learn was a specialty of his.

We watched TV for a while, then slowly climbed the stairs to our room, hand in hand. He hesitated at the doorway with a guarded expression on his face but I'd had the room painted a mossy green, and Maria and I had re-arranged all the furniture except the bed, which now had a new mattress and new linens in a dark stripe, very different from our usual pale yellow. He glanced around, then gave me a small smile, acknowledging my efforts.

I changed the dressings on his burns, planting a soft kiss along side each one, and we climbed into bed. He lay on his good side and we looked at each other for a long time. His eyes were sad, but he smiled at me when I cupped his cheek in my hand. We kissed a little, then he pushed me onto my back and put an arm and leg across me, his face against my shoulder. He fell asleep quickly and I lay there listening to him breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against my arm, so thankful that he was home with me again.

Friday morning I surprised him with a childhood favorite that his mother had told me about. The expression on his face when I set a plate of French toast with cream cheese and orange marmalade in front of him, made it worth the effort. He gave me a real grin and got up to hug me, rocking me a little and running his hand down my back to give my butt a squeeze. He spent the day around the house, doing some paperwork and napping when he got tired. I worked most of the day, but came home early so we could have a long evening together. We took a walk around the property, hand in hand, stopping to pay some attention to Zena and Chex who were feeling neglected; I hadn't ridden all week.

After dinner, we wandered into the den, curling up on the couch with Vincent between my legs leaning back against me. I put a hand under his shirt and savored the smooth warmth of his skin as I traced the muscles of his stomach. As I reached for the TV remote, Vincent pulled my hand back and brought it to his lips, kissing my palm, then folding my fingers over his and kissing each knuckle before laying it on his chest.

He took a deep breath. "His name is Ray and I met him when I was 17. He raped me."

Copyright © 2011 Gabriel Morgan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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