Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
I should block my mom.
I stare down at her text, seriously considering it.
She always gets worse around the anniversary of Dad’s death, and by getting worse, I mean she always tells me she’s very ill and needs my help.
Every year it’s something. This year, it’s her knee.
Last year, it was her scoliosis. The year before that, something about her stomach.
I’m thinking about doing pin the tail on the donkey, but on her, and seeing if I can accurately predict what next year’s problem will be.
Yes, I know, I’m so compassionate. That’s the thing, though. I am. Just not when it comes to her. Because when she doesn’t get the attention she wants, she makes a miraculous recovery. And like, we all want love, Mom, but do you really have to get yours through lies and manipulation?
Now she wants me to come over for her birthday barbecue. Her profile picture smiles up at me, and I see myself in her face, with the same nose and eyes, same pale skin. I grind my teeth. I need more tattoos.
Nope, I’m not going to respond. I won’t let her ruin tonight. Because tonight, I get to see Maddox again.
The thought makes my stomach jump and my heart race.
Maddox, Mads, Maddie, Mad Hatter. I shouldn’t have creeped on his last name, but it was kinda attached when I went to pay him.
Maddox McAllister. I definitely shouldn't have creeped on his social media after that, but…I’m only human.
I justify it by saying he’ll be in my house with Princess, even though I know the pet sitter app runs a background check.
He’s not convicted of anything…except capturing my attention with those tormented eyes.
Maddox McAllister is hot. Undeniably hot, even in his social media pictures where he’s caught off guard. But even more than that, he’s fascinating, and he’s a home health aide, so he helps people.
Even hotter.
For a second, I’m caught up in the idea of those strong hands on me, evaluating me for injuries, then there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!” I dart to my feet, racing Princess to the door, and as soon as the door opens, I’m reminded how big Maddox is. He fixes me with those green eyes, and for a second, I’m caught in them, unable to look away.
Maddox looks down and darts down to grab Princess, who’s trying to leave.
I snap out of it.
“Princess Cupcake Sprinkles!” I scold as he struggles to escape Maddox’s big hands. Maddox is gentle when he lets him back down inside.
Hot. Burning hot. Melting.
Holy moley, I need to get it together.
Instead of getting it together, I launch into a nervous explanation of where everything is, including Princess’ stroller. Which is dumb, given the sun is going down. But once I start talking, I have a hard time stopping. If I don’t stop, maybe he won’t focus on how weird I’m being.
I talk myself all the way into giving him a house key, talk him into thinking Princess would love a walk, then talk myself into the car. Then, I shut the car door and peel away because what the heck?
I made a fool of myself. My cheeks are burning, so I crank the music up so loud that I can’t think all the way to the shop.
When I get there, Logan is already working on a tattoo, and I start talking with him.
He seems extra quiet tonight, so when my client comes in, I start talking to her.
I talk and talk and talk. About what, I don’t know or remember.
All I can think about is Maddox McAllister and why he’s so gentle with animals and what gives him that closed-off look.
I think about the ultimate yucky thought–what if Maddox is already dating someone?
And the even more ultimate yucky thought–what if he’s straight?
Surely not. The man has twink-taming hands if I’ve ever seen them.
I finish my tattoo on autopilot, and as I do, Dakota, Logan’s other boyfriend, who I think is a cop of some sort, comes in with dinner and a pink, flowy shirt. Prettiest cop I’ve ever seen.
He offers me some food, and I’m stuck staring at it, paralyzed.
I’m done with my work. I should go home, but I can’t. What if I go home and he hates me? Decides I’m too much? This is absolutely too much, given he’s my pet sitter.
“Who’s the fag?”
I blink. What the heck? Glancing up, I see Logan looking at his client with a dark look.
“What did you just say?”
”It’s-s-s-s okay, L-l-ogan,” Dakota says.
Familiar helplessness that’s been simmering since I was a teenager flares to life. What is actually happening? Can we not exist peacefully together? Is that too much to freaking ask?
But before I can do anything, Logan snatches the client up by the shirt and hauls him over his head like he weighs nothing.
Dakota is right by his side, hissing, “Right here?” He throws a look at me.
“The fuck did you just call him?” Logan’s voice is calm. Scary calm. The kind of calm that Tyler used to get. The calm that makes my stomach ice over.
The guy tries to get a grip on Logan’s hands. I should do something. I should. But that rage is boiling through me, and I want to see the fear etched all over his face, in the lines around his eyes, and the wide gape of his mouth.
And then the moment is broken. Logan sets the man down, takes a step back, and then turns to face the back, pulling in a deep breath.
There’s silence for a beat in which the man pauses. I pause. What is happening?
The man’s gaze bounces between me, Dakota, and Logan, his eyes wild. I watch his fists clench and unclench. His gaze lingers on me for a beat too long before he reaches for something in his pocket and leaps at Logan.
I lunge forward, but Logan’s already turning, sending an arm backward into the man’s face. The man goes crashing to the ground. I’d jump in, but Logan’s on top of the dude pummeling him, clearly not in need of any help.
“Not at your job!” Dakota throws his hands in the air.
“I ought to fucking kill you, you know that? Insulting my man.” Logan grabs the man’s head and pulls it back. The man lets out a shaky breath.
For a second, fear hits my system. Logan’s always had a scary…something about him, and I realize in this instant that it’s because I fully believe Logan’s about to hurt him…and I feel like he won’t stop either.
Then, Logan gets off the guy.
I let out a breath, and there’s relief mixed with something else…something I can’t quite name.
Logan runs his hands through his hair and turns away.
The man on the ground gets up, and I see the flash in his hand. A knife. Dakota can’t see it from where he’s standing.
Before I can think, I grab the nearest armrest and swing it into the man’s head. He thunks down, the knife clatters, and Logan turns. He sees the knife, then looks at me. I see it in his eyes now. That calm. The decision.
“Go home.” Logan’s voice is deadly, and it’s directed at me. He fixes me with a look that’s harsh. “And you saw nothing tonight.”
Suddenly, I’m not here anymore. I’m sixteen, and Joshua’s shoulders are crumbling in on themselves. I’m sixteen and frozen as Dad calls me a fag. I’m sixteen, and I’m fighting the kid in the hallway with the most exhilarating feeling.
“Micah. Are you hurt?” Through the fog, I think Dakota is checking me over for injuries, but something feels off.
I take a step back, looking at the man on the floor. He’s groaning. In that moment, he looks like my dad, pitiful, getting what he deserves. And I’m not mad. In fact, a righteous sense of justice fills my chest.
Logan and Dakota are watching me. Like I’m a liability. Like I need to get home. But all I can see is Dad. And I smile.
“I’ll call the department,” Dakota says. “I’ll get his attempted as-s-s-sault reported. If we need you, I’ll let you know.”
I glance up to see that Dakota is looking at me. Talking to me. Right. He’s telling me to leave.
I take another step. “Oh yeah. Happy to help.”
When they don’t say anything, the gravity of the situation hits me. I just witnessed a fight that clearly isn’t over yet. No, I participated. And they’re dismissing me.
I’m a liability.
My stomach clenches, and I take another step and another until I’m out the back door.
I keep walking till I get to my car.
I’m not sure exactly what just happened. I’m not sure why I’m okay with it. But one detail keeps nagging at me: Dakota isn’t the one I want to be checking me over for injuries. The one I want is back at home. At my home. The place I’ve been avoiding. Only, I have to go back there now.