Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
GAGE
Leaning against the counter, Gage smiled at his best friend with all his teeth in spite of the fact that Lucas couldn’t now and never had been able to see his creepy grin.
It was a mask, of course. Three months had gone by since he’d been with Fallon. Three months since the phone call telling him that his life wasn’t going to be rearranged. He expected things to get easier. But they hadn’t.
His life wasn’t worse. It was just…stagnating. He was angry all the time and confused about it. He had a hair trigger, and he’d been avoiding the people he loved because the things that came out of his mouth sometimes were mean.
And he was never mean.
He knew it was probably down to the fact that he was still processing everything that had happened to him, but he was so ready to be done. He was so ready to start feeling normal. He just didn’t know what normal meant anymore.
With a sigh, Lucas shook his head, and his fingertips searched the counter until they found Gage’s. He squeezed briefly before letting go. Lucas’s hands were roughly calloused from burn scars, having worked in his food truck kitchen for several years, but they were still kind.
And at the moment, Gage appreciated that.
He felt raw and pulled apart and put back together in all the wrong shapes. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. Well, that wasn’t true. It was the fault of two assholes and their decision to try and fuck up Gage’s life beyond recognition, but that part was over.
He was currently in both private and group therapy to deal with everything, but he was thinking about quitting group because the guy who ran the sessions kept telling them all not to let their trauma define them.
Gage didn’t think anyone wanted to make assault survivor their entire personality, but it was what he thought about in all the quiet moments from when he woke up to when he went to sleep.
Life went on, and most of the time, he felt okay, but it was those still spaces when there was no one left to distract him—when his meds had worn off and he was jumpy on the inside and unable to turn his racing thoughts off—that he couldn’t escape what had happened.
And the torture of it all was not remembering what they’d done while he was drugged. It was going through what felt like a billion different types of therapy and home remedies to unlock those memories and finally realizing whatever those two assholes had given him had done its job.
They were both in jail now. He’d eventually chosen to pursue charges after his lawyer swore that he wouldn’t have to be present for the hearing. And with the video evidence they’d managed to get off their phones, they took a plea deal, so the sentence had been handed down right away.
Alayna got three years for sexual assault, and Jonny got five years for sexual assault and six months for the misdemeanor charge of nonconsensual pornography.
That one pissed him off the worst. It should have been more.
It should have been longer. But they both had to register as sex offenders now, and that mattered, he supposed.
He never did ask what happened to the baby. He decided to hope the kid went somewhere with people who would love them the way they deserved to be loved because no child deserved parents like that.
But he was also grateful it wasn’t his responsibility.
And he’d gone entirely silent about it. He told Lucas the bare bones of what happened. He let his friend hug him, and then he tucked it away, only to come out during therapy sessions. It probably wasn’t healthy, but that was how he coped. And he’d figure out the rest later.
“You there?” Lucas asked, knocking his knuckles on the countertop. He did that whenever people got quiet and he was afraid someone had left the room without telling him.
Gage reached for his friend and squeezed Lucas’s fingers so he’d know where he was, even when he was silent. “Remember when I punched Fallon’s dickhead ex in the hallway?”
“Yep. One of your best moves, bud,” Lucas said absently.
“That night felt good. And, like, I’m just thinking that maybe the world can use more vigilante justice.”
Lucas wrinkled his nose. “I’m not not agreeing with you on that,” he said slowly, “but I’m also saying that’s illegal, and we don’t live in a comic book.”
“We fuckin’ should.” Gage let him go, and he sagged back against his chair and laid his cheek on the counter. It was very cool and strangely soothing. “Or a campaign. Anything but this.”
Lucas’s face was soft with sympathy. His fingers reached out again and eventually found the top of Gage’s head. Instead of asking why he was lying on his face, Lucas started stroking his hair.
There were moments that Gage regretted not being able to fall in love with his best friend.
The logic of it made sense. Lucas was hot as fuck, he was funny, he was fun, he was caring and attentive.
He would have made Gage feel like the most spoiled bastard on the entire planet and probably never get tired of it.
But there was no spark.
When he and Lucas kissed all those years ago, there had been an awkward fizzle, and even Lucas had to admit he hadn’t liked it.
But Gage supposed that Lucas also didn’t understand what it meant to be loved the way that Gage and the rest of his family loved. It was unreserved and unrepentant. It was wild and heavy and big.
Lucas had spent a good portion of his life being shuffled to the side by one dad who hated him and the other who was too afraid to let Lucas so much as stub a toe while also being too chicken-shit to do anything about his crappy husband.
Things were different for Lucas now though. He was in love and happy and safe and stable. It meant Gage could lean on him a little more and not worry that things would change between them again, because he didn’t know what he would do if he lost his best friend.
“How can I help?”
Gage looked up and smiled, this time softer. “I don’t need anything—”
“Bullshit.”
“Really. Just…I don’t know.” The truth was, it was more than what Gage had been through. He was healing, especially now that he’d learned there was no child that had come from him. He could put that all behind him.
No, his melancholy was coming from the fact that in spite of his pain, and in spite of having sex on a night he probably shouldn’t have, being with Fallon had awakened something in him he hadn’t realized he could feel.
It wasn’t love, of course. But it was something.
But Fallon had ghosted him completely over the last three months. He hadn’t been brave enough to ask Frankie about his brother, but there was a notable absence every time Gage came over to visit and Fenton was there, but Fallon was not.
He couldn’t tell Lucas that though. No one knew he and Fallon had hooked up, and if Fallon wasn’t telling the people he was closest to, Gage wasn’t going to break that silence. Ghosted or not, he still cared about him.
More than he probably should.
“Everything’s been so chaotic lately,” he finally said, “and now it’s all quiet, but…also it’s not?”
“I understand. Frankie’s been all up in arms since Charlie was given fucking probation,” Lucas spat. That had happened three months ago too, right after Gage’s night with Fallon.
He figured Fallon would want to talk about that with him, but he hadn’t.
“Has anything happened with that?”
“Nothing, as far as I know,” Lucas said with a shrug. “The dude’s in the fucking wind. Frankie asked Fal if he’d seen him at all, and he said just once, but that was like…shit. A few months ago?”
Gage went cold. “Wait…what?” He definitely expected Fallon to talk to him if he’d seen his shit ex right after they hooked up.
“He didn’t go into detail, and he seemed fine, so…” Lucas trailed off and absently touched his face where he’d been beat to hell after the last time he’d run into Charlie.
Gage wanted to beat the fucker down again. He took a breath. “Is Fallon doing okay?”
Lucas nodded. “Seems so. He hasn’t been around much. He’s been working a lot, and he’s moving this weekend.”
“Oh.” Gage felt even worse. He could have helped. “Where?”
“Fuck if I know,” Lucas said with a snort. “I don’t get involved unless someone asks me, and they know better than to ask me.”
Gage sagged forward again. He’d hit another wall, and he knew he needed to let the whole Fallon thing go, but it wasn’t easy. They’d shared something and…and shit. He’d at least expected to become friends with him afterward. That’s what Fallon had said he wanted, anyway.
Maybe Gage had been so terrible, Fallon couldn’t face him anymore.
If that were true, it would be fucking humiliating.
Lucas found his hand once more and squeezed it. “So. You’re good, right?”
“Do I not sound good?”
“You sound tired.”
That wasn’t a lie. He was fucking exhausted. Work was kicking his ass—though he was enjoying it, and while therapy was helping him cope, sometimes it was hard to constantly relive his trauma.
What he really wanted was to move on. Properly. And completely.
“Gage,” Lucas pressed.
He groaned and stood upright, stretching his back. “It’s just been a long week, okay? My dad just took me off third shift, and readjusting has been hard. And…I don’t know. I think I need to change up my therapy. And maybe get laid?”
“I can’t help you with any of those things,” Lucas said.
Gage came around the counter and tugged his friend close. “I know. And that’s fine. This is good too.”
Lucas squeezed him back before pulling away. “Just promise you’ll tell me if shit gets weird again.”
“I promise.”
Lucas grinned. “Good. Now, get out of my house. Frankie’s going to be home soon, and Fenton has Elodie, so we’re gonna have sex on the couch.”
“Fantastic. Thank you for that,” Gage groaned. He leaned in and grazed a kiss over Lucas’s cheek. “Text me later. We can play Magic or something this week.”