A Test of Love

Tom strode purposefully into the bedroom. "Ryan, wake up."

"Mmmm," Ryan mumbled, not opening his eyes.

Tom sat on the side of the bed and shook his shoulder. "Wake up, there's been another note. And they broke my watch. My ring is missing. William's ring is gone. I was out back, chopping wood. Whoever it was, they smashed my flowerpot, took the ring and left a note in its place."

Ryan sat up, his eyes now wide open. "What?"

Tom stroked his finger, which felt naked without its silver band. William's ring, the ring he wore in memory of the one man he'd ever truly loved. Was it merely lost in the grass, or did the asshole who left the note take it? God damn it, what kind of sordid intrigue had Ryan got him embroiled in?

"What haven't you told me, Ryan?" Tom demanded. "What the hell's going on? Who's threatening you and why?" He thrust the paper toward Ryan, aware even as he did so that he wasn't being fair.

Ryan read the note and dropped it as if it burned his fingers. "I don't know, I swear. I know as much as you do."

"Yeah, well, now I'm being threatened too. My personal property has been destroyed and maybe stolen. I've been ordered to stop seeing you. I don't want to do that. But I have to know what's going on."

"I told you, I don't know." Ryan dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his silky blond hair.

"My ring," Tom persisted, not able to let it drop. "I have to find it. It's not you're your slashed tires—something easily replaced -"

"Look, I'm sorry about your ring. I'm sorry about this whole thing. I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's a sign I'm not supposed to be involved with anyone. You're probably better off doing as the note says."

"Is that what you want? You gonna turn and run, the second the going gets tough?" Tom snapped. Aware he was being unfair, Tom couldn't seem to stop himself. It was because of the ring, damn it. The ring had made it personal. William's ring, lost, possibly forever, because of Ryan's screwed up past or shady dealings.

Knowing he wasn't helping matters, Tom found himself saying, "Whatever's going on, it's clear this doesn't have anything directly to do with me. But now, whoever did this knows where I live. Damn it, I'm a professor at a university. I can't have this kind of dark intrigue shit going on in my life."

"You're right," Ryan snapped, fury in his tone. "Whatever's going on, we can't have it staining your pristine reputation at Rutgers." Ryan jumped up from the bed and began to pull on his jeans. He grabbed his sweater, pulling it over his head. "I'll see myself out. Don't forget to close the garage after I leave. Though, since I'm the problem, you should be fine once I'm gone."

All Tom's irrational, misplaced anger toward Ryan fell away. "Wait! Don't go, Ryan. I was being an ass. I'm sorry. Please..." He followed Ryan, who had left the room and was walking quickly through the house, grabbing his coat as he went.

"Ryan, let's talk this - " The door to the garage slammed shut. A moment later Tom heard the whirring clunk of the electric garage door slowly opening, and the purr of Ryan's car engine. He sank to the kitchen table, dropping his head in his hands.