CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE #2
“This was a good Halloween for me,” Thad said quietly. “The best I’ve had in a long time.”
Graham turned his head, eyes half-lidded and drowsy. “Even with the way stuff went down with Gavin at the pub?”
“Yeah.” Thad traced his fingers along Graham’s side, skimming over his ribs. He shivered but didn’t pull away. “I’m relieved it’s all out in the open now.”
Graham yawned. “Me too. More than I expected to be. And thanks for telling me the truth about everything.”
Thad nodded and pressed a kiss to Graham’s shoulder. He definitely felt lighter knowing he wasn’t carrying that secret around anymore.
Any secrets, honestly.
He had nothing to hide. There was nothing lurking around the corner that might disturb the happiness he’d found with Graham.
For a while they lay there, the room growing brighter around the curtains. Thad was bone-tired but for now, this was enough, touching like this. Holding Graham close.
“Was it awful?” Graham whispered a while later, playing with the hair at the nape of Thad’s neck.
Thad knew what Graham was asking, and it wasn’t about the blowjob or even about their talk earlier.
Thad didn’t mind telling Graham about his experiences in prison. It was simply difficult to answer. Difficult to put into words what such an alien experience it had been for him.
Graham and his cushy, privileged life would never quite be able to understand.
But for the man he loved, Thad would do his best to explain.
“Yes and no,” he said slowly. “It’s … prison can be awful for a lot of guys.
It can be absolute hell. It’s never good, but so much depends on where you are, how big of an asshole the CO’s—uh, corrections officers—are, and what the other guys on your unit are like.
Depends on your personality too. Some guys can take it, others can’t. ”
“And you?” Graham traced his fingers along Thad’s neck, gently rubbing the muscles there.
“I did better than a lot of them. Having a routine, having someone tell me what to do … that was familiar from hockey, so I leaned on it. It made it a little easier, I think. Honestly though, for me at least, it was the fucking boredom that was the hardest. Prison is soul sucking and that’s not by accident. ”
He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, suddenly wishing the room was dark so Graham couldn’t see his face.
It would have been easier to talk about it that way.
Graham shifted onto his side, threading their fingers together but giving Thad a little space otherwise. He was good about that.
He noticed.
Thad took a deep breath. “Can you imagine what it’s like to go from being a high school hockey player about to turn pro to incarcerated? I had purpose out here, I had training and games, and I was—well, I was never fucking bored. But in there … there’s nothing to fucking do.
“But God, in prison you spend so much fucking time just … trying not to go stir-crazy. I worked out a lot, of course. I also worked in the wood shop before—well, before I assaulted that guy for going after Teddy.”
Graham squeezed his hand but didn’t speak.
“After that, they said I couldn’t be trusted with tools, so I was assigned to the laundry.
It was—it was shitty work, but it was something.
So I worked out and I read the shitty books in the prison library and I did my best to not fucking rot.
It’s so much easier to … let yourself drift.
Turn into nothing. I saw it happen to guys and I fucking—I fucking refused.
But you still spend all the time you aren’t doing something watching what’s going on around you and up in your fucking head and I—” He rubbed his free hand over his face.
“You know, I think people have this idea that there’s violence going on 24/7 and there was definitely violence, don’t get me wrong.
But it wasn’t constant. It was mostly boring as shit.
Boiling hot or freezing cold and noisy and boring as shit.
And you never got a break from it. You have to deal with people’s bullshit all the fucking time, but it wasn’t interesting stuff.
It didn’t … it didn’t do anything but wear a guy down. ”
Graham’s swallow was audible. He reached out slowly, settling a hand on Thad’s chest.
Thad saw it coming, but he still flinched.
“Sorry.” Graham lifted his hand away.
Thad trapped it against his chest. “No. Don’t be.” The comfort was nice. He just got a little twitchy when he put himself back in that mindset of what it had been like back then.
For a few moments, they lay there, Graham’s breath soft and ticklish against his bare shoulder.
“The whole system is fucked,” Thad said quietly.
“And it’s even worse for people of color.
I won’t get into that whole thing right now but basically it’s modern-day slavery and it’s …
it’s totally fucked. It’s demoralizing and dehumanizing and it’s designed that way.
And that fucks me up more than anything else. ”
“Huh,” Graham said, like he was mulling it over, letting it sink in.
Thad had always liked that about Graham. He listened well. He heard what people said, didn’t react right away. Didn’t argue for the sake of arguing.
“So yes, it is awful,” Thad admitted. “But not always the way people think.”
“I never thought about it that way,” Graham said thoughtfully.
“Most people have no reason to. But it’s been fourteen years since I got out, and I still carry some of the shit with me,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “And I probably always will. It leaves its scars. As much progress as I’ve made, some things will probably be with me until I die.”
Graham pressed his lips to Thad’s shoulder. “I’d help you carry it if I could,” he whispered.
And Thad blinked, swallowing thickly, because that was the most meaningful thing anyone had ever said to him.
He couldn’t seem to get the words out to say that aloud, but he squeezed Graham’s hand tightly and hoped it would get his message across.
“I love you,” he finally said, though it came out thick from emotion. “And knowing you love me? That’s enough. It’s … enough.”