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- 08/04/2018
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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.
Dinner is Prompt-ly at Eight - 28. Chapter 28 - Salvation Road - Finale to Darren and Christian
Flight
Salvation Road
“I have to get out of here – now!”
Ryan stood stock still in the center of the kitchen, still fingering his checkbook, his eyes fixed at the window overlooking Lake Minnetonka. There were boats traveling past his gaze, large ones, some almost yacht-sized and sails going up and down in measured paces. There were little, tiny people in white shorts and red shirts or blue tops and yellow bottoms, racing about the decks, from afar trimming sails, hoisting lines, and doing it silently. The distance made it like a play or an opera. Except, it wasn’t stage, not really.
He could always hear the amateurs hollering and whooping from across the water. Not like the professionals. They were silent and efficient.
Hands grasped his, tugging him to attention. Darren’s frantic, blotched, and panicky face was very close to his. When they made love, he could see the love in those eyes. He could recognize how his husband would be getting close to pulsing with an orgasm so wonderful and expressive. The look in Darren’s eyes was always amazing. It almost made Ryan finish, but he was sometimes selfish so he didn’t complete, to make it last. He loved that look so much he selfishly saved the image of Darren’s face in ecstasy.
That wasn’t the look now. His look was sheer terror.
“They are going to arrest me, Ryan!”
The shout, and the exclamation jolted him. Darren was never the type to overreact, and his sudden explosion now had sparked Ryan Owen into responding. It wasn’t measured, but frantic, returning to Darren’s tone. It was something very different.
“If we don’t go now, I will be in jail and my life will be over.” After only a very short pause, he continued. “Our life will be over. You and the kids.”
That made the doctor move, and quickly. He shoved more clothes into the bag. Their bedroom was surreal, not the same as before. He needed to get some money and some documents…and other things.
“Get Aaron and Sher packed. I’ll met you in the car.”
Ryan watched as Darren’s wide frame exited the bedroom doorway. There was no time for this. He couldn’t calculate things. His husband had killed a man. A man who had seduced his partner, trying to splinter his family. Their family. This was emergency mode.
The doctor finished placing the last few items into his sports bag. Two suitcases were propped by the bedroom door. He stood at the window watching as his husband shepherded their children into their minivan. Their children. Their minivan. Their escape from a terrible misjustice.
Ryan wiped his cheek. It was dry.
***
The sound of the whining, ‘whir, whir, whir,’ filled the cavity of the car. It didn’t catch. The doctor was twisting the ignition, grinding the apparatus to get the engine started. So far, they’d fled the house on Lake Minnetonka, collected into the family vehicle, and made a basic plan. They would travel into Canada and drive to friends who lived in Winnipeg.
From there, it was an unknown path.
As the doctor collected his frantic thoughts, a few things pooled and became more coherent in his mind.
Flight was salvation.
Darren had done something stupid.
Ryan had not foreseen this happening. He should have.
The kids were innocents and needed protection.
This was a manic situation that needed management, and if Dr. Ryan Owens was good at anything, it was management. He could careful isolate and solve each separate issue until the problems were resolved, or disappeared. After all, that’s what was needed in a crisis, right? Someone needs to figure out the solution and do something to fix it.
No matter what, fix it. Fix it.
A gasp made the good doctor look over at the passenger seat.
Tears fell down Darren’s face as he looked away.
This wasn’t what he thought at first. He knew Darren, and this was worse, much worse than he’d originally thought.
Ryan’s realization was, “Fuck me!”
This wasn’t the thing to do.
We'll be back with more shared prompts next month.
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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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