Dreaming in Color Cameron Dane (ebook reader library TXT) 📖

you out on being gay a couple more times behind your back that week when the three of them kept up the comments. I gave them the ammunition to attack you.” Marek wiped his nose and red-rimmed eyes. “It was my fault.”

“So you knew Tiggs, Street, and Morales were the ones who attacked me?” Colin almost couldn't breathe through the tumult of revelations. “And you did nothing to stop it?”

Marek shot upright with new life and rushed to Colin, grabbing his hands. “No no no. Please.” He squeezed, crushing Colin's fingers. “I didn't know anything about the assault beforehand. I had no idea what was going on in their heads.”

“But you had to know what you were planting there!”

“I didn't think what I was saying through,” Marek cried with a ragged voice. “I just thought about myself and knew I needed to save myself from my parents figuring out the truth about me.” He looked like he battled throwing up right now. “When I heard about what happened to you, I was horrified and sick, and even though they didn't say anything about a hate crime in the papers right away, I knew what it was. I figured it must be Tiggs, Street, and Morales. I asked them about it, and they said they didn't know anything and were innocent, but the way they looked, I knew they were behind it.”

Colin wrenched his hands out of Marek's grip and strode to the archway, needing space to breathe. “But you never told anybody what you knew. You never backed me up; you never went to the cops to help when I was getting nothing but a half-assed runaround investigation of my assault.”

“I didn't have any proof, and I didn't know how to help you without turning a light on me. I was still too terrified about my parents and brother, and that scared the shit out of me more than anything else. Even more than making things right with you.”

Lifting his attention from the floor, Colin met Marek's gaze. Sadness seeped out of every line and pore of Colin's body, overtaking the boiling rage. “I am such a fool. I thought you cared about me; I thought you liked me. Hell, I at least thought you respected me.”

“I do.” Marek reached out and took a step forward. Colin stiffened, and Marek stopped in place. “I care about you so much. More than I ever thought possible for me again.”

“No.” Colin shook his head, and the tears he had been trying to hold in so valiantly started to fall. “You would have said something before now, if you did. You've watched me struggle to figure out these dreams, to find answers, and you had this huge piece to them all along. Fucking hell, I admitted to you, with full embarrassment, that I have control issues, and that I've lost relationships in the past because I don't like to be in a situation where I'm unsure or uncertain about what is going to happen next. Yet all this week, you've had this knowledge inside you, while I slept with you and fell in love with you, completely unaware, and you never said anything.” Colin's voice broke. “How could you do that to me?”

“At first I was so suspicious of your motives that I didn't want to tell you anything,” Marek explained. “Then you got under my skin, and I liked having you here, in this house, with me. I felt so close to you, I wanted to believe in your dreams and in how you feel about my house. I knew if I told you what I'd done, you would go away. But this piece of our history has been picking away at me a little bit more every minute we were together, and when you said you love me… I couldn't accept you saying that when you didn't have the full truth.” Marek looked as broken as Colin felt, and Colin could not tolerate this man's pain right now.

Colin's chest hurt so much right at that moment he thought his heart didn't have enough space to hold his grief. “I can't look at you right now,” he whispered. “I have to get out of here.”

“Wait!” Marek lunged and grabbed Colin's arm, branding his flesh. “Please stay.”

“No! Get your fucking hand off me.” Everything erupted inside him, and Colin swung a punch with every bit of pain and hurt in him, crushing his fist into Marek's jaw and sending the man careening into the wall. Marek grunted as his shoulder jammed into the plaster and his back jabbed into the edge of the counter.

For a moment, Colin stood stock-still, stunned that he'd attacked another person in violence. He had never hit anyone in his life.

Marek looked up, his gaze wide as the ocean outside. He took a step forward. “Colin—”

I can't be here anymore. Colin's arm tightened, and aggression burned unchecked in his gut. I might do worse than punching him next time.

With his stomach churning and panic setting in, Colin ran for the door. “Leave me alone!” Each step he took weighed his legs with excessive pressure, and Colin felt like he pushed through quicksand to reach freedom. The second he touched the door and swung it open, a tidal wave of crushing pain bore down on him, knocking him back a few steps.

“No!” Colin swore at the house. He hardened himself against the familiar hurt and fought the pull that worked to hold his body behind the threshold. “You will not keep me here. Let me go.” The invisible force screamed in his head, killing Colin, but the pressure keeping him inside the house finally released him, and Colin stumbled to his knees as he hit the porch. Cries echoed, sounds Colin knew did not come from him. Covering his ears, he righted himself and ran down the path over the beach and to the dock, getting as far away as he could without jumping into the Pacific. He dug into