2
JAY
“Are you done with this beauty?”
Beauty? That ugly old Ford had been giving him hell all day. Despite the money, Jay hated wasting his time on lost causes. This junk of a car would be back for more repairs in a month, no matter what he did. He rolled out from underneath the car, squinting at his older brother. “I still have about an hour left, assuming nothing blows up in my face.”
Stu chuckled, his belly jiggling like Santa Claus with his long beard. “Don’t stay too late.” He went to wipe his greasy hands on a towel.
“Why? We need the cash.”
Stu shook his head. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t like it when you do twelve-hour shifts, then go home to crash until the next day.”
“I think I’m old enough to manage my own free time, thank you.”
“You’ve been managing it poorly, and we both know it.”
Jay took a deep breath, not wanting to turn this into a fight. “I’m not crashing on your couch anymore, so give me a break.”
“I had no problem with you crashing on my couch, Baby Jay, and that doesn’t change my point.”
“Stop calling me Baby Jay. It’s creepy.”
“Stop acting like a baby, and I’ll think of adjusting your nickname.”
Jay’s anger grew hotter. This same old argument never led them anywhere, but Stu was too stubborn to accept it. “I’m fucking working to pay my rent. How the hell am I supposed to be more of a grownup?”
Stu sighed and crossed his arms. “Paying your rent isn’t living.”
“Tell that to my landlord.”
“Jay, you need to start dating again, or at least get laid. I mean, why the hell did you cut your hair so nice and fix your beard? You look almost as good as me.”
“God help me if you’re the benchmark.”
“I’m serious.”
“Cut it out, okay? I’m doing what I want, so mind your own business.”
“You are my business!”
“The hell I am!” He lay back down and wheeled himself underneath the busted car, into the thick scent of oil. No one in the whole world could get under his skin as fast as Stu. The man had a private fast lane straight into Jay’s nerves.
Stu grunted, “You’re more stubborn than Dad. Anyway, I’m putting on the closed sign. Margo and I are going to Denny’s.”
“Fancy.”
“She likes it simple.”
“Can’t get any simpler than you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Remember to lock everything up.”
“I always remember.”
“And don’t keep working too late—I’m speaking as your boss this time.”
Underneath the car, Jay focused on his breathing. He pulled out his phone and opened the gallery, his trick for calming down his nerves—definitely less risky than getting hammered.
With the gallery open, he first looked through Ethan’s photos. It had taken a near-death experience to bring them back together after their recent ugly fight. Thankfully, Ethan was good at forgiving.
Jay moved to look at photos of Anthony, the only man alive he had yet to fight with, even after so many years. He could picture himself fighting with a kitten before fighting with Anthony.
Hesitantly, he moved to look at photos of Chris. It had been a long time since he could face those without wanting to kill the man. For well over a year, he had based his sanity on making Chris pay for his part in landing Jay in prison. But when he finally got the chance, the price had turned out to be too high.
“We were just closing,” Stu said from the customer area.
“I really need a quick oil change for my bike, man.”
“Yeah, alright. Jay, can you give him a hand over here?”
Jay sighed and rolled himself out. “Coming.”
He stood up and wiped his greasy palms on his dirty coverall. Maybe it was time to call it a night after all. He’d find something dumb to watch on Netflix until he fell asleep.
The front door slammed as Stu left to meet with Margo. Jay had hoped that having a new girlfriend would leave Stu with less energy to bust Jay’s balls, but no such luck.
He entered the customer area. “An oil change, you said?”
He froze.
No way. No fucking way.
Ben Jones—or Nasty Ben as he’d been called in prison—laughed at the sight of Jay. The giant of a man looked as ugly as Jay remembered with his broken nose and nasty scar above his right eye. His red bandana seemed ridiculous, especially with the leather jacket that had patches of cartoons all over it. They had last seen each other almost a year ago, when Jay got discharged.
“Jay! Shit, man. You work here?” Ben came closer and pulled him into a bear hug, smelling of leather and cheap aftershave.
Cold sweat broke across Jay’s skin as he stood numbly and waited to be let go.
Ben moved back, smiling wide with his missing front tooth. His remaining teeth had a strong yellowish shade.
“How’s it going?”
Jay shook his head, finding his bearings. “Doing well. When did you get out?”
“A few weeks ago. Good behavior. Can you believe it?”
“No.”
Ben laughed, the sound coming from the depths of his guts. “Me neither.” He looked around. “Is this your place?”
“My brother’s. I work here.”
“Oh, sweet. I’m on my way out of this shitty city, man. Heading south for nicer weather and cheaper rent. Got a few of my boys going with me.”
Jay remembered that Ben had been a part of a biker gang before he got locked up for almost killing a guy in a fight.
“Cool,” he managed.
“You remember Bucky? Dude got stabbed to death in my last week there. That Latino gang had it in for him.”
Bucky. Another man Jay had been working hard to bury in the graveyard of his subconscious. “What a shame.” He cleared his throat. “Did you say you need fresh oil?” He walked toward the entrance door. “It’s outside.”
“Hold on, what’s the hurry? Let’s catch up.”
Jay sighed and turned around. “It’s late. I need to close up.”
Ben gave a crooked, yellowish grin. “Got plans, huh? Who you meeting?”
“No one.”
“Oh, come on. I bet it’s some hot chick.” His eyes traveled down. “Are you gonna make her howl with that pole?”
Bile climbed Jay’s throat. “I’m not meeting anyone.”
“Good, then you’re not in a hurry.” He grabbed a chair and slumped on it.
Jay’s pulse sped up. This man had no right being here, no right to even exist outside of Jay’s prison days. “You wanted oil for your bike. Let’s go outside so I can help you. On the house.”
Ben kept staring, his ugly smile unwavering.
“Ben, come on. Let’s go—”
“Pull it out.”
Jay sucked in a breath. He must have banged his head underneath that old Ford and passed out, because there was no way that this was happening. “I’m not pulling anything out.”
Ben chuckled and crossed his legs, one hairy knee poking out through a tear in his jeans. “I’m having déjà vu. Do you remember how it ended when you said no to me that first time?”
A dark, buried memory resurfaced, hot as fire and sharp as a knife. “This ain’t prison.”
“True.” Ben spread his arms. “No guards.”
Jay exhaled, his fists clenched. He wondered if the universe had set this up to grant him a chance to settle an old score, but the universe wasn't known to do him any favors. “Listen closely. You’re gonna get your fat ass up from that poor chair, then walk out of here to whichever cave you crawled out of.”
“Is that so?”
“How far do you think you can ride with broken hands?”
Ben narrowed his eyes, the smug playfulness gone from his face. “Someone’s balls grew mighty big recently.”
“Get out, Ben.”
“Sure, man. I’ll do that. Didn’t want to be rude or nothing. But see, I’ll be back real soon. Me and the boys will make a quick stop here on our way down south. A sparkle of gasoline here and there, and we’ll be driving away with flames in our rearview mirrors.” He gave his words a few seconds to sink in. “You know I ain’t bluffing. I’m giving you a chance to apologize because of all the cigarettes I got from selling your steamy performances.”
Jay’s skin burned, yet his heart felt covered in frost. He had no doubt that Ben meant what he said. Fighting him would likely end in the destruction of Stu’s business.
“Sorry,” Jay hissed.
“What’s that?”
“I’m sorry.”
Ben nodded. “That’s better. You always came around at the end. It would sound even better if you say it on your knees, though.”
Of course it would. He sank to his knees, telling himself that this was the right thing to do. In prison, smart always beat tough, even if it had taken Jay a few busted ribs to figure it out. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Much better.” He stood and came closer, towering over Jay. “Remember how you used to pin those fuckers down? There was no escape when you wanted to stick it in them. Man, I still get hard just thinking of your shows.” He raised Jay’s face, brushing a thumb across his lips. “Open up.”
His jaw felt locked when he forced his lips to part. Ben slid two fingers inside, tasting like dirt and grease. It took all of Jay’s willpower not to bite down on those fingers, but this was a fight he couldn't afford to lose. Ben slid his fingers deeper, reaching down Jay’s throat and causing his stomach juice to gush. He held his fists clenched tight, wondering if he should let go and throw up on Ben.
“Luckily for you, I have a shitload of things to do before I leave town,” Ben said. “But you would’ve pulled it out for me, right? Pulled it out and stroked it.”
Jay gave a stiff nod, knowing that he would have.
Ben pulled his fingers out and wiped them across Jay’s face, who just barely kept himself composed. Ben took a step back, and with no warning, kicked Jay’s crotch. The blinding pain sent him down on the floor, crawling into a ball and gasping.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Ben chuckled. “Get up and come help me with the oil. On the house, of course.”
*
He tried to work on the damn Ford but couldn’t bring himself to slide into the narrow gap beneath the car. He should have gone back to his apartment, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that either. If his brother hadn’t gone out with Margo, Jay would’ve stayed at his place tonight, making up some lame excuse and crashing on the lumpy couch he suddenly missed terribly.
Get a grip. It’s over. Fucking Ben was leaving the city, and Jay wasn’t going to see him ever again. Although, hadn’t he thought the same thing a mere hour ago?
He sat on the tattered couch in the small garage office and called Ethan. He had planned on calling anyway to wish him luck on his first day of work tomorrow, but now he needed them to meet because Jay couldn’t stand being alone this evening.
“Hey, man.”
Jay let out a long breath, his anxiety going down a notch. “Hey. Excited for tomorrow?”
“More terrified than excited. How will I handle a job without packages to deliver?”
Jay chuckled. “You’ll ace it.”
“Yeah, fingers crossed. I just ironed my new clothes. No more FedEx uniforms!”
“That’s a shame. You looked hot in those.”
“Don’t even.”
He cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything now?”
“Anthony’s on his way over. We’re having a date night.”
Shit.
“He’s coming over now?”
“Yep, should be here any minute.”
Jay’s body began to shake, a lump growing in his throat. Fucking date night. “Listen...”
“You okay?”
“I...” He pressed his fingers against the corner of his eyes, strong enough to hurt.
“Hold on. Ant is at the door.”
Jay moved the phone away because the shaking was getting worse. He was officially losing his shit, but he refused to make a scene and ruin Ethan and Anthony’s evening.
He could faintly hear Ethan saying, “I’m on the phone with Jay. Ant says hi. He brought me flowers.”
Jay moved the phone closer. “Yeah, that’s cool. Listen, you two have fun. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure. Have a good evening.”
Jay hung up and slammed his phone on the couch. He put his head in his palms and tried to breathe. That had been one of the worst things about prison—you could never take a proper breath. But he wasn’t in prison now, and he needed to focus on that.
His phone vibrated with an incoming message. He hurried to pick it up, hoping it would be Ethan asking him to come over. Seeing Chris’s name on the screen raised an unexpected fire in Jay’s chest. The last person he wanted to talk to was the one who had sent him to hell.
He reluctantly opened the message. “Can we meet?”
He texted back, “Not in the mood.”
Chris wrote, “Please. It’s important.”
Jay took hold of his anger because he had promised Ethan and himself that he and Chris were okay. Besides, it wasn’t like Chris to write this kind of message.
They agreed to meet at Henry’s.