Chapter 14 #2
“I graduated high school and joined the state fire academy in Lewiston. After I became a firefighter, I moved all over with my job. Eventually, I moved back to Philly for an assistant fire marshal role there. Somehow, she found out about it and started asking me for favors. Did I want to rent a room from her? Could I get her son a job? Stuff like that. Eventually, it escalated. Among other things, she added the guilt factor. ‘You owe us,’ and ‘It’s the least you can do after everything I did for you.’ Needless to say, I wasn’t interested in any of that. ”
“Shit, Judd. Did you call the cops? Get an order of protection or anything?”
I shook my head. “Nah. It didn’t really reach the threshold for anything like that. Nothing threatening or harassing. Only annoying as fuck.”
“But it was enough to make you move away?”
“That and a few other things. I was restless. The guy I told you about, my ex—”
“The one that got away?” he teased, gesturing for me to hand him the onion on the counter next to me.
I moved the onion over to him and got out another cutting board. “Yeah. I was, ah, having trouble moving on. I kind of threw myself into the hookup scene, which made it worse, in a way.”
“How do you mean?”
I thought of DrunkenPoet, of his inherent sweetness and empathy. Of the way he asked about me and worried about me. Going back online after the accident to see dozens of messages from him escalating in panic and desperation.
And then nothing. I could still see the old messages, but the username was gone. Instead, it indicated the messages had been written by a deleted user. His account had been closed and he was gone. Unreachable.
“There’s a world of difference between being with someone to get off and being with someone you care about,” I said.
It wasn’t until I noticed his slightly flared nostrils and reddened cheeks that I realized how insensitive my words were.
I opened my mouth to say something, but there was nothing to say.
I couldn’t tell him things were different with him, that I cared about him more than a casual fuck. Because I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to care for Alex Marian at all. And I didn’t want to send mixed messages.
“I get it,” Alex said at length, and something in his tone—a hint of longing I recognized all too well—made me think he actually did understand.
As Alex got out a frying pan, I found myself thinking about his “one that got away.” The guy he said had disappeared on him before they’d had a chance to do much together.
The fact that I almost wanted to find the guy and knock some sense into him suggested I wasn’t doing nearly as well at not-caring about Alex as I wanted to believe.
I stayed quiet, and we made awkward small talk for the rest of the time it took him to make a simple chicken and rice dish.
“This is fucking incredible,” I said in surprise after taking the first bite.
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he said with a laugh. “My uncle’s a chef. I worked at his restaurant and learned from the best. I’ve been thinking I might even open my own restaurant one day.” He winked, but I could tell he was a little hurt. Again.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. It’s not pizza. And I guess I think of you as a restaurant owner, not a chef.”
He straightened the paper napkin in his lap before piercing me with a stare. “It’s possible to be both things. You know, like fire chief and fire marshal.”
“I apologized,” I said, reaching over to squeeze his arm. “And I’ll apologize again. I’m sorry.”
Alex blew out a breath. “No, it’s my fault for overreacting. I’m sensitive about it.” He waved a hand. “Family shit.”
I realized then that Alex hadn’t changed the way he spoke to me about family after learning I’d had a shit one and then none at all. It was uncommon for people to be so comfortable with it. I almost asked him if he’d known someone in the system, but I held back.
Until I remembered Tavo.
“Tell me more about Tavo,” I said.
And it was the exact wrong thing. Alex’s body stiffened, and his eyes widened. “Why?”
“He in the system?”
Alex sat still for a beat like he was considering how to answer.
And then he stood up and cleared his plate to the kitchen, rinsing it in the sink and setting it in the small dishwasher, where he’d already put the dishes he’d used making dinner.
“Sorry, I have to head out. Thanks for the, uh, lesson.”
I stood up and approached him carefully. “Alex, whatever I said—”
He turned a smile on me that would have been radiant if it hadn’t been so damned fake. “Don’t worry about it. I really do have to go. Besides, we’re done here, right? Physical transaction. No emotions. And I told you I’m good with that.”
He leaned in to drop a quick kiss on my cheek in the most platonic way possible. As if we were acquaintances and nothing more. Which, I guessed, was probably true…
Since that’s what I’d done my damnedest to make clear to him.
“Yeah, uh. Okay,” I said. “Thanks for dinner. It was amazing.”
Within moments, he was gone. And I found myself staring at the empty doorway and the empty driveway beyond.
It was for the best, really. Because being with him had reminded me painfully of the man I’d lost. The one I still desperately wanted to find.
An hour later, when I couldn’t get thoughts of either man out of my head, I dialed my friend Max.
“You remember how you said I owed you one, but we both know you owed me one instead?” I said after the pleasantries.
“He saves me one time from getting beaten up for borrowing Anthony Varrasso’s headphones without his permission when I was fourteen,” Max grumbled, complaining good-naturedly as usual. Which was fine since he would do just about anything for me, and I’d do just about anything for him, too.
I heard background noises like he was out with friends, but he hadn’t hesitated to take my call, and even now, his voice turned serious as he asked, “What do you need, Judd?”
Ordinarily, I might have told him it was no big deal and to call me back later, but my mind was whirling. So instead of giving him an out, I continued. “You said you had a friend who was a private detective, right?”
“Few of them, actually. One was a detective on the force and retired early to go into the private sector. Then there’s the woman he hired on.
Frannie. She’s a hoot and smart as shit.
Also hot as fuck in bed. Oh, and remember that guy Buck we went to school with?
He’s with a security firm that does background checks and shit.
Not hot in bed, though. What are you looking for? ”
I hesitated. How far was I willing to go to find someone who didn’t seem to want to be found?
Max knew what I was thinking without me saying a word. “This is about the forum guy, isn’t it? Are you finally gonna take my advice and try and run him down?”
I blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Might be nice to get closure.”
That wasn’t really true, and Max and I both knew it. What I really wanted was to find him.
“Alright, I’ll send you the name of an investigator. But Judd…”
I steeled myself for the lecture about falling for a guy I’d met on the internet. He’d already given it to me once or twelve times before when I returned to Philly from Germany after the mortar attack that had cost me four months of my life… and my relationship with DrunkenPoet.
“You deserve better than someone who gave up on you that easily. You’ve been all over those forums for years now, making yourself as visible as possible. If he wanted to find you, it wouldn’t be hard.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I gritted out. “I told you already. We didn’t have a defined relationship or any kind of understanding. I would never have expected him to wait four months for word from me. Wouldn’t you have given up on someone after four months of no word?”
“If I didn’t care about the guy? Sure. But I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to avoid those forums for years, J.”
Max’s words weren’t intentionally cruel. He was trying to help me move on in his no-bullshit way. But I knew DrunkenPoet hadn’t moved on because he hadn’t cared about me enough. I suspected he’d moved on because he had.
And that wasn’t something I was willing to walk away from easily.
“Send me the name of the investigator,” I said. “And go back to your friends.”
“Okay, but now you really do owe me one, right?” he teased.
“Yes, Max. I owe you one.”
I ended the call with a smile on my face. I may not have had a biological brother, but I was convinced Max Franco was even better than a real brother would have ever been.
And with his help, maybe I would finally find my DrunkenPoet… or put his memory to rest for good so I could move on.