Death is Not an Option - 21. Chapter 21

Isaac

Jon was not best pleased when I told him that Connor was coming back with us, and even less so when I told him we were going to go up to my room. At one point he was going to say something but Sean dragged him off into the kitchen and nothing was actually said.

And so here I am, sitting on my bed... on the bed that I am slowly coming to think of as mine, and staring at my hands while Connor prowls the room like a caged panther. The room seems so much smaller with him in it. He is so... big.

“Is your head ok?”

“What?” He seems to have been far away, deep in thought, because he snaps at me and then immediately regrets his tone and smiles to soften it.

“The cut on your head... is it ok?”

He touches his forehead and winces slightly then smiles. “I had forgotten all about it. It's fine. Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“Why... why are you so angry all the time?” My heart is pounding and I can’t believe that I have actually found the nerve to ask him. It is something I have been wondering about but only one on a whole list of things I am bursting to ask him... bursting, but too scared. I feel... strange, prickly all over, jumpy, nervous. I can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes because I am terrified of what I will see there. I don’t know what scares me most... the way I feel or the way I think he feels.

“Angry? I suppose I am.” He sighs and thrusts his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I don’t know. It’s the way I am, the way I’ve always been.” He turns to look at me and it is all I can do to stop myself from shrinking away, his eyes are burning.

“Feck Isaac... I’ve never met anyone like yer afore. Ye make me want to open me heart to yer and me heart is a dark place and it has been closed up fer so long...” He sighs and flings himself full length on the bed, startling the hell out of me. He is so close, so very close. I can't help myself... I reach out my hand and touch him, just a gentle tentative touch on the chest.

Before I know what it happening, before I can pull away he grabs my wrist and yanks on it, overbalancing me and pulling me down on top of him. I can feel him shaking and I don’t know what to do. I just lie there, still and scared, panting because the breath has been knocked out of me, literally and figuratively.

Very, very gently Connor raises his hand and strokes my hair. It feels so good I close my eyes and barely notice when he draws my head down. It comes as a shock when my lips meet his and I jerk back. He does not stop me. I stare into his eyes, they look dazed. He licks his lips and somehow it makes me so happy, as if he is savouring the taste of me.

Keeping my eyes locked with his I lower my head and kiss him again. I get lost in the kiss very quickly and when his hand starts to stroke my back I melt into his arms, all the tension and fear leaving me in an instant. I have waited for this for so long.

At some point I become very aware that my body is beginning to show its appreciation of the attention it is getting from Connor’s lips and hands which are... wandering. In the same instant I become aware that Connor’s body is appreciating it too and I get scared, pull back.

I stare down into his face. His eyes are still dazed, glazed and he is panting. He moans and tries to pull me down again, his arms tightening as I struggle. Then I begin to panic in earnest. I don’t want to, it is nothing I have any control over.

The more I struggle the more he holds on to me and the more I panic.

“Connor... Connor stop... stop, please... please Connor.” I am shocked by the amount of panic that shows in my voice. Connor stares at me and freezes. He releases his arms and I shoot backwards, off the bed, to land with a sickening thud on the floor. I lie there, winded as Connor’s face appears over the end of the bed, a look of abject horror on his face.

“Isaac. God... are ye okay? What... what happened?”

I can't reply, can’t speak. I feel such a fool, a stupid, gauche idiot. With a groan I turn away from him and curl into a ball on the floor, sobs welling up inside me and bubbling out in an uncontrollable torrent of emotion.

I am aware of Connor speaking but have no awareness of what he is saying. Someone is banging on the door and voices are calling. Then there is someone there, someone taking me gently into their arms, stroking my hair, my shoulders, whispering softly. Overcome by the tenderness, the overwhelming emotions I spin round, taking him by surprise and cling to him sobbing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Connor. I... I’m such an idiot, such a... a...”

“You’re just a confused, sweet, innocent, wonderful... Ah feck... I don’t have de words for what ye are. And I don’t have de words for what a complete fuck up I am. I promised meself I would never do that to yer again... and then I did. Don’t be angry wid me me darlin’... I just got carried away.”

“Angry? With you? I thought you would be angry with me. I’m such an idiot.”

“No... you’re not. You’re an innocent, sweet angel and I’m the idiot. I said we would take it at your pace and now I’m rushin’ ahead as usual. I’m a fuckwit so I am.”

I can’t believe it, can’t believe what he is saying. Not only is he not blaming me for being so stupid, he is taking responsibility himself. He is saying it wasn't my fault, it was his. But it’s always my fault... isn’t it?

“I... I...”

“Ssh. It’s alright.” He strokes my hair and I melt. My body feels like lead and it is hard to lift my arm to touch his face. It hurts and I notice there is blood on my sleeve.

“Shit!”

I sit up so suddenly I almost crash our heads together. Connor backs off, startled.

“What’s up?”

“My arm.”

I pull back my sleeve to find that the dressing, which Sean changed just before we left for the trip, is soaked with blood. “Fuck, I must have fallen on it.”

“Hell’s bell’s Isaac. What’ve yer done to yerself?”

I look up sharply but his eyes are on my arm, wide with concern. Does he know? Would it make a difference if he did? Suddenly I feel... ashamed.

“I...” I have to get away from him, away from my shame, the way he would look at me if he knew.

“Woah... wait. Where are yer goin’?”

“I have to... I... I need...” I scramble to my feet and make for the door but Connor is faster.

“Isaac, what’s this all about?”

“Please Connor, I have to go.”

“Go? Go where? What’s going on Isaac? What’s wrong?”

“I need... my arm... I need...” He holds my shoulders and won’t let me go. At first I struggle but what’s the point. It isn’t as if I can hide it forever. He’s going to find out sooner or later, and it might just as well be sooner so that he has the opportunity to walk away before he gets in too deep.

I lift my head and look into his eyes. They are wide, concerned. He is very beautiful, so very, very beautiful. I want to lose myself in those eyes, to sink into his arms and lose myself in his eyes and find myself in his kiss... but... but...

“I tried to kill myself.”

It just slips out. I didn’t mean to tell him quite so bluntly but what’s the point in beating about the bush?

“What? Hell Isaac... I didn’t know. What happened?”

His eyes are still wide and full of concern, still open, still loving. I am confused now, I don’t know how to deal with this. “I...” I start to shake. I don’t want to, it just happens. There has been too much emotion in too short a time and I am still weak, still fragile from everything that came before. I can’t help it. I can’t stop it.

“Feck Isaac... I keep messin’ up. I’m such a dick head. Come here.”

He pulls me into his arms and just holds me until the shaking stops. I have never felt so safe, so protected, so loved.

Eventually he pulls away. “What do you need to do with your arm?”

“I don’t know. It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Why it’s bleeding.”

“Then you’d better take a look had yer not?”

“I... er... yes.” I feel like a complete idiot. Connor does that to me. But suddenly I realise that I like the way he makes me feel even when it is stupid.

Sitting down on the bed I tug at the edges of the dressing and it comes free easily enough. I am used to looking at the mess that used to be my arm and actually it doesn’t look too bad. It is healing well, the stitches are still in there but they will be coming out soon. The vein inside is working properly, my fingers are not numb and blue any more... everything is working... it just looks... it looks...

“Jesus. You did that?” Connor’s voice is shocked. He is sitting next to me and he puts his arm around me, pulling me against him. “Fuck! It must have been bad fer ye.”

“Yes... it was bad.”

Connor takes my face between his hands and stares into my eyes. I want to look away. I feel... I feel like... like a fool, like a child, like...

“It’ll never be that bad again Isaac. I’m here now. I’m gonna look after yer, so I am. As long as I have breath in my body no one is going to hurt yer ever again. This I swear.”

I think my heart’s stopped. It is the last thing I had been expecting and I swear that my heart actually stops.

“I...” For God’s sake say something Isaac. This beautiful man has just said the most beautiful thing you have ever heard and all you can do is sit here with your mouth opening and closing like a carp. Say something. “I...”

Connor smiles and then I know my heart had stopped because it thumps back into life and I smile too... I just can’t help myself. I am still smiling when he leans forward and kisses me. Ahhhh I will never get tired of his kisses.

While we are still kissing Jon and Sean get tired of banging on the door and walk in. At first they are angry with us... with both of us, but we are both so shaken, so obviously upset and I am, I suppose, so obviously comforted by Connor that they calm down quickly enough.

Some time later we are lying on my bed. Sean has put a new dressing on my arm after giving us both a lecture on the dangers of too much ‘rough and tumble’ given my still fragile condition. Throughout the lecture I squirmed and Connor grinned and in the end we all dissolved into laughter although Sean turned strict again to tell us both to be careful.

I feel light headed with happiness as I rest my head on Connor’s shoulder, his arm strong and warm around me. I am half asleep to tell the truth and I had though that so was he.

“Do yer wanna talk about it?”

“Talk? About what?” Stupid as I am I am genuinely confused about what he means.

“What happened to you.”

I go cold, uncomfortable feelings squirming in my guts. I don’t want to think about it let alone talk about it... but this is Connor... I am not so innocent as to not know there needs to be honesty and openness in any relationship. He tightens his arm around me reassuringly and drops a kiss on the top of my head.

“It’s alright me darlin’ ye don’t have ter say a word. But yer safe wi’ me, so ye are. Ye can tell me anyt’in’ and ye’ll be safe, so ye will. Oi’ll make ye safe Isaac, I promise.”

And so I tell him... I tell him everything. I let it all spill out in a ragged torrent, words spilling from my lips straight from my heart. I try not to think about what I am saying, just to let it pour out without touching me... but of course it touches me... of course it does. As I speak all the horror, the pain, the feelings of betrayal and hurt... it all comes flooding back and I hold nothing back... nothing.

By the time I finish I am shaking like a leaf, sobbing so hard I can barely speak. At some point we have both slid down and I am lying full length on the bed with my head on Connor’s shoulder as he hugs me tightly to him.

The words slow and stop and I am left hiccupping as Connor strokes my hair gently. He doesn’t say anything. I don’t suppose there is anything to say.

“I love yer Isaac.”

“What?” His words shock me. I jerk up my head and he looks as stunned as I feel. For a moment he just stares at me and then he laughs. It is a strange laugh, almost bitter. He shakes his head.

“Sure and I must be insane. I have never said that to anyone in me life, not even me Ma that I can remember.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head again. “I thought I’d had it bad, so I did. I thought... But feck man... me life’s bin a bowl of cherries next to yours. And yet... yet yer... Feck... if that had been me I’d ha’ been spittin’ nails. I’d ha’ hated the world and wanted ter make it pay... and good.

“I can't believe that after all that yer... yer... Jesus Isaac, yer a better man than me.”

“Am I?”

“Ah yes... yes ye are. Ye’s brave and strong and gentle and yer so... forgivin’. That’s one thing I never was... forgivin’.”

“What haven’t you forgiven?” I can't believe I was brave enough to say it. Again, it just slipped out and I almost immediately regret it when Connor stiffens, his breath coming in hissing pants. I know he’s struggling with something within, I recognise the signs, I have felt them often enough after all.

He is silent for so long I resign myself to the fact that I have overstepped the mark, that this time I have gone too far and pushed him away.

When he finally begins to speak it is so soft I have to concentrate to hear him.

“When I was a kid we moved about a lot. We were Roma, gypsies. We were on der road all de time. We lived in a grand caravan, so we did. I could see me face in de silver. Me Da bred horses. He were a genius, known t’roughout Roma society. He were a legend, so he was, a legend. Sure and I t’ought the sun shone outa his backside.

“We were Catholic. Me Mudder insisted we went to mass every week no matter where we were. We got a lot of flack when were movin’ t’rough Proddy areas. Der was dis one time...”

I could hear his heart pounding in his chest and there were slight tremors passing through him from the fact that his muscles were all tensed and locked. Ahhh... I shouldn’t be thinking about his muscles. Without meaning to or thinking about it I realise that my hand is caressing his chest. His muscles are so taut, so defined. His tshirt has ridden up a little exposing a strip of skin about four inches wide across his stomach and I can see his tight abs. I want to touch them.

Giving myself a little mental shake I force myself to concentrate on what he is saying.

“I was six years old. A couple of us had gone to a fayre, to sell some horses. I was on top o’der world. It was der first toime I were let go along. Oi felt loike oi were such a grown up. Oi was holdin’ on ter his hand and we were just walking down the street. How was I supposed to know it were a Proddy street? How were oi to know what Proddys were then? I was a kid, a kid wi me Da.

“It started wi’ shouts, comments, and taunts. Dey ignored it... just kept on walking. We t’ought that were worst of it but it weren’t. Dey started t’rowing stuff... food, stones. One hit me. Me Da went mental coz oi were bleedin’. Der was a foight, dem an’ us. De garda came but... dey were on the Proddys soide, so dey were. Dey hit us wi dey’re batons. Dey hit me Da on de head and he fell down.

“Dey dragged de men away and t’rew dem in der jail an dey left me dere... wi me Da. He were bleedin’ an so still. I didn’t know what to do. I was a kid, only six. I cried and dey laughed at me. When de garda went away dey came back and laughed at me. Dey spat at me and called me names and laughed.”

“Oh my god Connor. That must have been... I can’t even imagine how that must have been. Was your father ok?”

“No. I tink it was hours afore de ambulance came. I sat dere wid him all the day... until dey let the men out o’de jail and dey saw we was still not back. I called to people for help but dey just walked by or spat at me. Hours. By the toime dey got dere he was long dead. I knew... but I didn’t want dem to take him. I fought dem. I bit and kicked and spat and dey wouldn’t let me go wid him. Dey took me in a garda car to the lockup and I stayed there till me Ma came.”

“Fuck.” What else could I say? I am shocked , totally and utterly shocked. I can imagine the child that Connor had been, clinging to his dead father while people, ordinary people, walked past and spat on him. I shudder and hug him tighter.

“Oi was torn Isaac. Some’tin’ in side broke. I started fightin’.... everyone, everyt’in’. Me Ma couldn’t cope wi me so she sent me to yer Grandma... ter straighten me out.”

“Wait... what do you mean ‘my Grandma’? I thought... I thought she was yours too... that you’re my cousin... I was told...”

“No. Me Ma and your Ma were de best of friends. Me own Grandma died afore I was born. Your Grandma koind o’ adopted the lot of us.”

“What about Declan?”

“Ah now Dec... he’s different. He is yer cousin. Thankfully not me tho’. She did the best she could, God bless her, but I were a noitmare, so I was. I were sixteen when I went to her. I had already crossed de Garda so much me next slip were gonna land me in the slammer and I have always had a talent for making dose slips.

“All I could ‘tink of were fucking and fightn’, and oi did both as often as I could... coz dey were de only t’ings dat made me forget for a while, that took the pain away for a little while.

“Oi tried Isaac, I swear oi tried. It were drummed into me that dis was a new start... me last chance and I tried to take it, so I did. I tried to walk the straight and narrow but me temper...

“There was always someone ready wid a taunt, or a dig and oi could never resist. I did me best but I was in trouble almost straight away. For a long time it were little t’ings... fightin’, screwing someone or other, who complained to me Grandma... breaking people like I was broken. Oi never meant to hurt anyone... not really... it’s just that... that I... when I am hittin’ someone... or fucking them... the violence makes me... makes me feel... real... alive... whole...”

For a long time I thought about what I could say to make things better for him, that could take away the pain and the rage I could feel coursing through him like the blood through his veins. In the end I sigh and run my fingers through his hair, getting lost in the way his hair curls at the ends and how the curls bounce back when I straighten them.

“You’re beautiful Connor, so beautiful. You’re angry on the inside but it’s only because you are so passionate. You feel everything so deeply, just because you... you’re... I'm like that too... I bottle things up and don’t deal with them and they build up and make me hurt so badly. I don’t let them out by... ‘fucking and fighting’, I don’t let them out at all.”

Connor lifts my face so he can look into it and smiles a slow smile, those beautiful blue eyes sparkling, even as they darken with desire. “I t’ought I hated the English... I still hate the politics but... yer so perfect Isaac, me own little English rose.” He lowers his face and touches his lips to mine. I shiver and raise myself to deepen the kiss. As I do so my body slides over his and the muscles in my belly contract at the friction, making me shiver.

I raise a hand to run it through Connor’s hair and he returns the favour with one hand as the other strokes my back.

Slowly his hand moves from my hair, to my cheek, to my throat and over my shoulder. My body burns at his touch and I am shivering all over. Again there are flutterings of fear but I thrust them down.

Connor raised his head and looks down at me. “Yer ok wid dis.”

I nod and pull his head down for another kiss. His arms tighten around me and his lips crush mine as his tongue explores my mouth making my body twitch in ways it never has before.

After a few minutes Connor gently pushes me away. Surprised I look up into his eyes. They are dark and filled with a look I have never seen in anyone’s eyes before. For a moment I feel hurt... why is he pushing me away? Has he had enough of me? Is he bored with me?

Pressing me back onto the bed Connor slowly sits up and my heart begins to pound as he raises his arms and tugs his shirt over his head. Half terrified and half... something else I stare at his body, the way the muscles flex as he moves, the play of light and shadow over his soft toned skin. My mouth is practically watering and there is a tingling in my belly that seems to be concentrated in my groin, which is uncomfortably hot and tight.

I am scared... so scared... but my body seems to be taking over, thrusting away the fear and I am reaching for him, my hands touching his chest, running over those smooth taut muscles, tangling in the dark fur that forests his pecs. His eyes hold mine and he stays perfectly still, letting me touch him, letting me calm, letting me come to terms with what is happening in my own way.

I remember that his family bred horses... and he is treating me like you would treat a nervous colt. We had horses at the community too.

After letting me explore his body with my hands for a while, still with his eyes locked with mine he reaches out and tugs at the bottom of my shirt. I freeze. I can’t help it. I know that my eyes widen and Connor just stops, resting his hands on my ribs. He smiles and I melt inside. Even though my heart is beating like a herd of wild horses, even though my guts have turned to liquid fire, even though I am trembling with fear I somehow find myself lowering my hands and guiding his back down to my waist. They lock as his fingers curl under the freed edge of the shirt but then move with his as he slides it upwards.

The cool air on my hot skin makes me shiver again and when Connor lets go of my shirt and lays his hands on me a moan slips out and my back arches all on its own, pressing against them.

Encouraged Connor slides his hands up over my chest, under my shirt and I feel weak, letting my hands fall to my sides. It is only when I realise that he is tugging at my shirt again that I notice my eyes are closed. Surprised, I open them and, after a moment of confusion, work out what he is trying to do. I half sit up and let him pull the shirt over my head.

Now we are lying skin to skin and I can’t breathe. I have never experienced anything like this before. It is so intense, so... I don’t have words for what it is. I am glad that Connor doesn’t seem to want to talk because I couldn’t speak now, no matter what. What a fool I have been. I have been so frightened about what comes after the kiss... now I know... I know what comes after... it is heaven.

Sighing I surrender myself to Connor’s kiss. His heart is beating hard and fast and I can feel it reverberating in my own chest. I am too skinny. I have lost weight in the hospital and my ribs are poking into him painfully. Connor’s body is perfect, just perfect and I sigh as I run my hands over the smooth muscles of his back which slide and move under my hands in a way that makes me want to... want to...

Connor’s lips move away from mine and his breath in my ear distracts me from whatever I was thinking before. I can’t help but let another little sigh slip out and I can feel his mouth curve in a smile.

The sensations that awake in my body as Connor’s hot lips touch my neck and his sharp teeth gently bite my chin are alien and exciting and confusing. As he slides down to make a trail with is lips from my neck over my collarbone to my chest, another sensation altogether catches me unaware. The movement causes the hard bulge in his trousers to rub across mine and this time the sound that is torn from me is more than a sigh.

Again my back arches without any conscious intent on my part and my hands claw at his buttocks, pulling him hard against me while my hips grind into him.

Connor raises his head and grins at me. His eyes look strange, the pupils wide. I have never seen anyone look at me with desire before and that look on his beautiful face, in those glorious eyes, excites me more than anything that has come before.

“Are ye okay with this Isaac?” He sounds concerned but I couldn’t have cared less. I want him, all of him.

“I want more.” My voice sounds alien to me, breathless, husky and it makes Connor smile even more broadly.

“How much more?” He bites my chin gently as he speaks and I can barely find either the focus or the voice to respond.

“I... I don’t know... I just... just more.”

Connor’s hands are everywhere, stroking, tweaking kneading and I feel as though my body no longer belongs to me. I am panting so hard it is making me light headed and I am trembling all over. My head is shaking from side to side on the pillow and I have bitten my lip so hard I made it bleed. The sensations that are assailing me are still strange but every minute they grow stronger and I no longer have the will or the desire to fight them.

I close my eyes again because my head is spinning and my hands grab fistfuls of the blanket as Connor slowly and carefully explores my body with his hands. When they slide under the waistband of my jeans I am too lost to even care and when he starts to unbuckle my belt I hardly register. I am desperate now, desperate for more. I don’t know what to expect but I’m not afraid any more. I’m excited, a hot burning excitement that is almost painful

Connor tugs down my jeans and pants and I let him. I can’t believe I am doing it but I let him. Then he stands up and strips off the rest of his clothes and just stands there for a moment looking down at me with the strangest expression on his face. I do begin to get a little afraid then, afraid that he is having second thoughts, that when he sees how skinny I am... when he sees my scars... when he really sees...me, that he won’t like me any more, that he will change his mind.

I think he sees the uncertainty in my eyes because he smiled and suddenly he is lying beside me and pulling me into his arms. Suddenly we are side by side, completely naked, our bodies touching, our lips sealed, our arms and legs entwined. I am hungry, like a man starved of food and water. I have never had this before, never known this kind of closeness with anyone and it is almost too much to bear.

Connor breaks the kiss when he tastes the salt of my tears and tilts my chin up to his, concern in his eyes now.

“Sure and didn’t I tell you to stop me if I went too far?”

I shake my head but I can’t speak. I can only hope he understands. I think he does because he smiles and his hand strokes all the way down my back making every hair on my body shiver and stand on end. The hand skims over my hip and then slides down between my legs and my breath hisses.

“Is that okay for you, me darlin?” I nod dumbly. “Do yer want me ter stop?” I shake me head and then throw it back against the pillows as he takes me in his hand.

Gently Connor pushes me back onto the bed and lowers his lips onto mine, stifling the cry as he begins to stroke me, his hand sliding over my hot shaft, his thumb caressing the tip with expert precision.

I am lost in a world of unbelievable and almost unbearable sensations. I am barely aware of Connor’s mouth moving down over my chin, my collar bone, my chest. I buck and cry out when he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks then bites gently. And all the while he is stroking me and a fire is building in me.

My eyelids are fluttering and my lips are parted, making little whimpering sounds that are way beyond my control. It occurs to me that maybe I should be doing something. I have no idea what it is I am supposed to be doing but I have a feeling I shouldn’t be letting him do ALL the work. The feeling is fleeting though because I couldn’t move if I wanted to, I couldn’t... couldn’t...

“Aaargh... Con... I... I...”

“Sssh... It’s a’rite me darling. Let me take care o’dat for yer.”

For a moment I feel bereft as he takes his hand away and I open my mouth to beg him not to stop... but then his hand is replaced by something else. His teeth graze me and his tongue flicks at my slit and I have to bite back a scream.

I am breathing so hard that I panic for a moment, wondering if my pounding heart can take it but there is no time... no time at all... everything is swept away when the larva pit that has been roiling in my belly for what seems like so, so long suddenly swells and floods me. I have no idea what is happening but I trust Connor and try and relax as the tides sweep over me and powerful contractions grip me