12. Chapter Twelve
Iwake up mid morning with a bit of a start. Listening, I realize the house is quiet – too quiet. I worked really late last night helping John with the books and plans for expansion so by the time I got home, I collapsed in my bed without a second thought. But this morning I figured I wouldn’t be able to escape Nate. Why isn’t he making a bunch of noise trying to wake me up? Usually he would be bouncing off the walls dying to tell me about his new school or even his date. What’s going on?
I make my way to his bedroom and notice the door partly open. After getting no reply from calling his name, I push the door open and notice his bed is still made and his clothes are strewn across it from where he obviously tried on multiple outfits before heading out. Where the hell is he?
Scratching my head, I head to the kitchen hoping to see his coffee cup in the sink from this morning, but the coffee pot’s still full and unused on the side. How strange.
Did he not come home last night? The last time I saw him was when I left him at the school fair. He mentioned he was going to see some chick, but did he not come home? Must have gotten laid.
I pull out my phone and dial the number but it just rings.
Looking at the clock I realize it”s barely 10 a.m., perhaps he”s still asleep.
I jump in the shower, grinning when I notice lipstick smeared across my dick and remember how it got there. Knowing I’m alone, I begin pumping my cock to the memories of the other night, how amazing it was watching Stacey come undone for me, watching her body buck and shake as I brought her to orgasm, and how desperate I was to fuck her. My mind then begins fantasizing about what it would be like to fuck her. What positions I”d put her in and what noises she’d make. Finally with one great tug, I spray my load down the drain letting the water from the shower wash it away.
I get out, wrap a towel around myself and head towards the kitchen for a much needed coffee.
I make and enjoy my coffee then try to call Nate again. Once again, all I get is his voicemail.
I try texting him, hoping that if he”s too busy to pick up his phone perhaps he’ll at least answer my texts.
11:15 a.m.
Nate, I haven”t seen you since last night. Are you still alive?
I make myself another coffee and light up a cigarette in the backyard. When he still hasn”t replied by the time I”m finished, I head back into his room. Perhaps he left a note or something.
11:45 a.m.
Your bed doesn”t look slept in, so I”m guessing you slept in someone else”s.
I”m sure he’s fine; he probably just got lucky with some slut last night. That will be it, I”m sure. I try telling myself, but it doesn”t really work. So instead I throw on a hoodie, hop on my bike, and decide to head back into town. Perhaps he left early and is around town somewhere. He did say he was going to look for work. I bet that”s what he”s doing.
12:30 p.m.
Text me back bro, I”m getting worried.
I try him twice more over the next hour and by the time the clock hits 1:30 p.m., I”m officially past annoyed, and have fully moved into the panicked stage- What if something happened? I”ve only just got him back. I can”t lose him again.
I check online, typing his name into the search engine.
Facebook, nothing. Twitter, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Nate never was big on social media, neither of us are. I”m about to give up when I notice a new friend notification. I click on it and spot some hot little redhead standing beside someone in a football jersey. I don”t recognize either of them, but I continue scrolling. There are pictures of the same couple at a party. A video of them dancing to cheesy music. And them sharing some cotton candy. Well, this isn”t much help. That is until I spot him. Nate, in the background of the picture. I continue scrolling and see more pictures of Nate. Nate with the guy, standing, grinning. Nate and the guy together in the bumper cars. Then I see Nate with his arm around a girl, not just any girl, but Isabella. Issa-fucking-bella, the devil in disguise. Clicking on the picture I see the caption. ‘Izzy and her Prince Charming’.
I try calling Nate again, this time leaving him an angry voice message telling him to call me back. I look at the picture again and notice Isabella has been tagged so click it and make my way to her profile next. On it, it”s mostly pathetic pampered princess shit. ‘Had such a great day with Nana and Pops. Missed them so much.’ I want to vomit. Next there”s a video with Isabella dancing around as she paints some pathetic picture on what I assume is her bedroom wall. I”m about to turn it off when I hear a voice. “Izzy, that looks amazing.” I know that voice. My fears are confirmed when I see Stacey come into the frame also holding a paintbrush. “Our girl is a fucking artist,” she coos to whomever is holding the camera.
Wait, Isabella knows Stacey? How? Since when? Why?
My mind swirls with all the questions.
Did Isabella put Stacey up to it? Had us meeting all been some sort of trick? Was this all a sick joke? Was this her way of trying to hurt me one last time?
I call Nate again and this time he finally answers.
”Holy shit, man, it”s almost two o”clock! Where the fuck have you been?” I roar into the phone. I don’t know if I’m relieved, still terrified, or mad with fury. My heart is racing and I have a bad urge to break things.
”I”m sorry, I met some new friends yesterday and went out with them last night. Today we went to a park, and now we”ve gone out for a drive. I totally lost track of time; no big deal.” Nate replies nonchalantly and I feel a mixture of relief that he”s safe and annoyance knowing exactly what new friends he”s talking about… her. Yet again she is trying to steal him from me. ”You really scared me, Nate. After what happened, you know it stresses me the fuck out when you”re gone too long, especially when you don’t even bother to let me know you are alive!”
”Gabe, you seem to forget that I”m almost eighteen. I”m old enough now to make my own decisions. We”re not little kids anymore. You’re not my parent. No one is going to separate us again. I”ve got you, and you have me, Gabriel. That”s all we need,” I hear him say in a soothing voice. I know I”m being completely irrational. I”m not his father; I have no right to dictate what he can and can”t do. But I might as well be his father. I was basically the closest thing he had to a loving father growing up. Surely that gives me some right to feel this way.
It really doesn”t, you were doing soo much worse when you were his age. My mind reminds me. Still, sometimes I think of him as that little boy who needs protecting. So, like the insecure little boy I once was, I cling to him like a life preserver.
”I know you keep saying that, but I promised Mom on her deathbed that I”d always take care of you and keep you safe, and I never want to break that promise again,” I admit, feeling a swirl of emotions brewing as I remember that day so clearly, holding my mother’s hand in that tiny hospital room, her whole body covered in tubes and wires. She made me promise to always take care of Nate. I was barely eight years old, and she was making me promise to always protect him. Promise to keep him safe; promise to always look after him. The way I”d always been doing since I was barely out of diapers.
”I know, but like I said, we were kids; that doesn”t count. You never broke your promise as far as I”m concerned,” he tries to reassure me. We”ve gone back and forth on this same fight more times than I can count. But as far as I”m concerned mom gave me one job. I made a promise to the most precious and perfect human to ever grace this earth. I couldn”t save her but I could do this one thing to make her comfortable enough to finally stop fighting. And I failed.
I hate the feeling it gives me every time I think back to those times. The burn in my chest as I think about all I lost when she died. Even when she was dying and barely had the strength to stand, she found some way to keep my father calm. To take the brunt of his annoyance and keep me and Nate safe. But once she was gone, life became a hell that was beyond anything I could have imagined. Why couldn”t he have been the one to die? What cruel and sadistic god took away a sweet angel and left us to be raised by a sadistic devil?
”Anyway, did you at least get lucky at that party last night?” I ask, changing the subject. Giving him the chance to mention that he found Isabella again.
”It wasn”t like that,” Nate snaps back and I know I”ve hit a nerve.
”That”s all it”s like, little brother. Girls are only useful for one night. After that, they”re just a waste of energy,” I sigh as my mind drifts to Stacey. That is what it is right? They are only good for their hole and a release, and it’s time to move on. But why doesn’t it feel as right as it did before?
”Not everyone sees it that way, Gabe. Some see girls are much more than just a place to park your ride.” I know now that he”s still there, with her. That yet again he’s chosen her; he”s spending his time with her and leaving me alone in that house. See! Girls just fuck up everything.
”Don”t tell me, Mr. I”m-too-good-for-a-one-night-stand is still hung up on Princess Isabella,” I bite out at him. I can hear the bitterness and condescending tone in my own voice, but I don”t care.
”This is none of your business, whether I am or not. I”m just saying that not everyone is a heartless asshole like you,” he yells before hanging up on me.
“Fuuuuck!” I scream, kicking the door in anger. Fuck that hurt. How my foot didn”t go through it, I”ll never know. Why am I like this? Why is my first instinct to attack anytime I feel hurt or vulnerable? Why can”t I just be fucking normal?
Feeling guilty, I take out my phone again and send Nate a text.
Me
I”m sorry, bro, you know she”s a difficult subject for BOTH of us. I don”t want to lose you, especially when I finally have you back.
I know I”m an asshole, but I love you, Nathaniel.
Nate
And I love you too, Gabriel, but this fucking war you have with Bella and her family has to stop! It”s been over five years. You need to let go of the hate now. Just move on with your life.
Move on with my life? How?Not everyone managed to slip into the role of playing the perfect little son to the rich parents like he did. I swear to god he has no idea what the fuck I went through. How fucked up my head is. While his fucked up little life ended the day child protective services came and took us away. That was just the start of my journey.
Me
It”s hard when I lost you in the first place because of her.
Nate
YOU DIDN”T LOSE ME! I”m RIGHT HERE!!! But if you don”t give up this vendetta against Bella and her family, you’ll push me away.
Shit! Yet again there’s gonna be a choice where he’s forced to choose between me and the fucked up family we had together or her and his perfect little fantasy. It won’t be me. I’ve never been the one people stick around for.
Me
I”ll try.
I grab myself a bottle of beer and light up another smoke, then find myself reaching to message Stacey.
Me
Hey, what are you up to?
I internally cringe at how pathetic I sound. I don”t text first. I never text first. And definitely not something as stupid as ‘what you up to’ and certainly not within twenty-four hours of seeing them last.
I”m about to put my phone away and chalk this whole thing up to losing my mind. When my phone buzzes, I can”t help but rush to open it.
Smoking Little Cock Tease
Hey, been thinking about last night all morning. It was so damn hot.
Like a moth to a flame, I feel my body set alight.
Me
Maybe we should do it again? How’s tonight sound.
Smoking Little Cock Tease
No can do, I”m hanging out with some friends tonight. But I can meet you tomorrow. We can meet for breakfast.
Breakfast? Like a date? I don”t do dates. Not even breakfast dates. Are breakfast dates even a thing? Maybe it’s not a date. But I do want to see her. An idea hits me.
Me
Gotta work tomorrow, but maybe we can meet after. I get off at 6? Perhaps if you”re a good girl, I”ll eat you the next day for breakfast.