Chapter 36
Jameson
A breeze drifts through the window as Sam shifts beside me in bed. It’s a warm night for April, the heat of summer beginning to creep in.
I watch as her chest gently rises and falls, the stress she carries gone as she sleeps.
In the six months that Johnny’s been gone, she hasn’t gotten much better. It’s been hard to see her in so much pain. To not be able to take it away.
I try to give her as much good as I can, hoping that if I fill enough space, it’ll push away all the bad.
Most nights, I sleep next to her, knowing that if I don’t, she won’t sleep at all. At least that’s something I can give her. A moment to rest. A moment of actual peace.
Pulling her into my chest, I let my eyes drift closed, the rhythm of her breathing guiding me toward sleep.
Just as my body begins to grow heavy and my mind starts to slow, a loud ring echoes through the room.
I snap my eyes open as Sam stirs beside me, reach over her, and grab my phone, ready to berate whoever is on the other line for waking us. But when Billy’s name pops up, the anger is quickly replaced with worry.
When I answer the call, the other line is silent, and I somehow know what he’s going to say before he even says it.
“She’s gone,” he chokes out.
I sit up. “You sure? Maybe she just—”
“She left a note.”
“What’s going on?” Sam asks, her voice groggy.
I hold up a finger, keeping my focus on Billy as he says, “He lost it. You should’ve heard him. I don’t know …”
“Where is he?” I question, knowing he’s talking about Luke.
“Asleep,” he sighs. “Passed out on the floor of their bedroom.”
“I’m—”
“How could she just leave? I mean a note,” he snaps. “A fucking note, Jameson.”
“We’ll come get you, okay?”
“No, you don’t—”
“Not asking,” I say, already moving to get out of bed. “You’re not gonna be alone through this.”
Sam follows behind me. “His mom?” she mouths.
I nod as I tell Billy, “We’ll be there in ten. All right?”
“Thank you,” he pushes out. “I know you’ve already got enough of your own shit to deal with.”
“Your shit is my shit.” I grab my keys. “You need me, I’m there. It’s that simple. Always has been.”
“Thank you,” he repeats, and I can tell by his tone that he’s out of it.
I reach for the door. “We’re heading out. Want me to stay on the phone?”
“Nah, man, I’m good. I’ll see you when you get here.” His answer doesn’t sound even remotely convincing.
“Why don’t I put Sam on, yeah?”
“You really don’t have to—”
Sam holds out her hand, and I pass her the phone.
“Hey,” she says, the greeting coming out tender, careful, like she knows what it’s like to be the person on the other end of the line.
I guess she does.
I guess we both do.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asks as we step outside and I lock up. “That’s fine. We don’t have to. Just stay on the line with me, okay?”
We settle into the car, and she keeps the phone pressed against her ear the whole way over to his house, not saying anything but giving Billy the constant reminder that he has people who are here for him. People who aren’t going anywhere.
“We’re here,” she says softly as I pull into the driveway. “Okay, yeah, see you in a minute.”
She hangs up and passes the phone to me. “He went to check on Luke.”
“He say anything else?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. The only thing he said was that he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“She left him a note,” I mutter.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. He didn’t tell me what it said, but …”
“You think she’s gone for good?”
The words die on my lips when I see Billy step out of the house. His shoulders are slumped, his head bowed. He looks completely fucking defeated.
He looks like a kid whose mother just abandoned him.
Sam pushes her door open as he walks toward us.
He keeps his eyes on the ground, his body rigid.
She takes a step forward, closing the remaining distance between them, and throws her arms around him.
His body is stiff, his arms pinned to his sides, but after a few seconds, I watch as he lets go.
As he lets himself break. He wraps himself around her like she’s a lifeline.
Like even though he’s twice her size, she’s the only thing keeping him standing.
My grip on the steering wheel tightens as his body begins to shake. I stay in the car, giving him the space he needs as he sobs, grieving something he never should have had to lose.
Minutes pass before he finally pulls away from her. She says something to him, and he nods, following her to the car.
I step out as they approach, rounding the car to meet them. Sam’s eyes are glassy as she glances over at me, and I wonder if this is all too much for her. If Billy’s pain is hitting too close to home.
She must read it on my face because she raises her chin and gives me a sad smile. The words clear—I’m okay. She tips her head toward Billy—I can do this for him.
I nod, grateful to have her here. Grateful that Billy has someone like her by his side.
Shifting my attention to him, I take in his bloodshot eyes, the heaviness in them illuminated by my glowing headlights.
I sling an arm around his shoulders. “You’re gonna get through this,” I say quietly.
He jerks his chin into a nod. “Yeah, I know.” He steps away from me and clears his throat, trying to straighten, as if he’s fine. “I just needed a minute.”
“You can have more than a minute,” Sam says.
“She doesn’t deserve it,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” Sam whispers. “But you do.”
He pulls his head back.
“You’re allowed to be upset,” she tells him.
“I know.” He kicks a rock at his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I don’t want to be upset anymore. It’s too much. I just want a distraction.”
“We can give you that.” I nod. “What do you wanna—”
“I just need to get away from this house,” he cuts in.
“All right,” I answer, knowing exactly how he feels. “Get in.”
He slides into the back seat, and Sam takes her place up front.
We drive around in silence until Billy says, “I wanna go to the park and get drunk.”
I raise an eyebrow, looking back at him in the rearview mirror. Billy drinks at parties, but he’s never really been someone who drinks to get drunk. Although, I guess if there was gonna be a time to do it, it would be now.
I swing into the nearest gas station, willing to give him whatever he needs to get through this. “Be back in a minute,” I tell them, throwing the car into park.
It doesn’t take me long to secure a twelve-pack. I’ve had a fake ID since I was fifteen, but it’s been a while since I’ve been carded. I either know the person working, or they take one look at me and assume I’m not worth the trouble.
The engine roars to life as I start for the park. Billy cracks open a beer in the back seat, but other than that, it remains quiet.
It’s a short drive, and after a few minutes, we’re pulling into an empty lot. Darkness covers the abandoned park, only a few dim streetlamps lighting the space.
We spread out along a picnic table, me and Sam on a bench and Billy taking a spot on top. He stretches out his legs in front of him as he opens another beer.
Sam grabs one, handing it to me and then takes one for herself.
I bring the can to my lips as Billy leans back on the table, his eyes fixed on the sky. It’s eerily quiet, the swings on the playground creaking with the wind.
A lighter sparks behind me, and I turn. “Can I get one of those?”
Instead of handing me the pack, Sam passes me her own then lights herself another. I inhale, needing to give myself something other than Billy to focus on.
It doesn’t work like I hoped it would. I still can’t stop glancing his way. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I can’t seem to stop searching for it, anyway.
“I’m fine,” he finally says, looking over at me. “What’re you waiting for? Me to disappear or something …?” He trails off on the last word before he laughs, the sound all wrong. “Never mind. Guess you can never be too sure, right?”
I shake my head. “That’s not—”
“We’re just looking out,” Sam finishes for me.
“I know you are, but can you …?” He blows out a breath.
“Fuck. I don’t know. Can you just not?” He pushes himself up, sliding off the table.
“You tiptoeing around me and acting all weird is … I just need to …” He pauses.
“Separate from it, you know? I can’t do that if you’re acting like I’m about to lose it. ”
“Are you?” Sam whispers.
“Am I what?”
“About to lose it?”
He’s quiet for a minute. “I just need to move on. Shit is what it is.”
“That only works for so long,” she says on an exhale.
“Then I’ll start with tonight; worry about tomorrow when the sun comes up.”
“That’d be a good tattoo,” I mutter.
Billy snaps his fingers. “Now that’s a fucking idea.”
“What is?”
“Tattoos,” he says. “We should all go get tattoos.”
“Didn’t know you wanted one.”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
Sam stands, grinding out her cigarette. “Like matching ones?”
“I never thought about getting one ’cause I never had a reason.” He looks between us. “Something for the three of us is a reason. Has meaning, you know?”
“You’d really want that?” Sam asks, dragging her attention from Billy to me. “Something that permanent? I understand you guys, but me … I’m not …”
“You’re not what?” Billy asks.
She wraps her arms around herself. “You know …”
“You two are my best friends,” he says. “My family. And it’s got shit to do with blood. It’s loyalty.” He shifts, glancing between us. “Tonight, always … you’re both always there.”
Sam glances over at me, her eyes searching.
I nod. “Like he said, it’s always gonna be the three of us. There for each other, no matter what. I have no problem getting that loyalty inked.”
She’s quiet for a minute before she says, “That’s what we should get.” She looks between us. “Loyalty.”
The door chimes as we walk into Big Jim’s studio. I called him right after we all decided on the tattoo, and he was more than happy to stay open for us.
“Kid,” he calls from his place behind the front desk, pushing back his chair and rounding the counter. I’ve been in here a few times since my old man died, but still, he approaches me carefully, his expression weary. “You doin’ all right?”
“You know,” I answer.
“Yeah,” he grunts then clears his throat, bringing his attention to Sam at my side. He smiles, the movement distorting the tattoo that runs down the side of his face. “You must be Sam.”
She nods. “Hey.”
“Heard a lot about you,” he says. When her eyes flash to me, he chuckles, the sound gravelly from years of smoking. “All good things, darlin’.”
Finally, he turns to Billy, glancing at the remaining beers in his hand. “One of those nights, huh?”
“Worse,” Billy answers.
“Let’s head back then,” Big Jim says, never one to pry.
We follow behind him, and I watch as Sam and Billy take in the space for the first time, their gazes lingering on the frames that cover every inch of the walls.
“So,” Big Jim says, “you all want the word loyalty?”
Billy looks over his shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Just the lettering?” he asks.
My eyes catch on one of the frames—angel wings drawn in black. I think about the word we’re all getting inked, not only what it means to the three of us but also for those we each lost. That we rose above it, because of each other.
“What about that?” I point to the frame. “Loyalty above angel wings.”
Sam and Billy step closer, both of them agreeing, the look on their faces making it clear they get my meaning.
Big Jim sketches up the design while the three of us decide on placement.
Sam picks her ribs. Billy over his heart. And me, a piece that spans my chest.
Big Jim comes back with the design, holding it up for us to see. “You’re all sure?” He looks between us. “Don’t gotta tell you this is for life.” His gaze moves over each of us as we all nod.
“Yeah,” I answer. “We’re sure.”