15. Diesel
15
DIESEL
G ive it your best shot, Doc. You’ll never get a word out of me.
The ticking of the clock was the only sound that filled the space that used to contain a two-sided conversation. That all ended when the nosy bitch decided to ask him that stupid question.
“Mr. Pratt? Did you hear my question?”
Of course he heard her stupid question. It didn’t mean that he had to provide her with an answer. She was the quack doc —she could figure out the answer on her own. Didn’t she go to school to learn all about this stuff? Why did he have to do all the hard work for her?
“Why do you think it is that you go on these multi-day benders?”
Leaning back on the sofa, he pulled his hoodie down even further and began playing with the string around the end.
Time was ticking. Twenty more minutes until this stupid therapy session ended. Why did he ever agree to see this nut job? She had already spent the last two sessions trying to get him to speak about his childhood. If that didn’t work, what made her think talking about his present was going to be any different?
Matteo said he needed to see a shrink; he didn’t say that he needed to speak.
“Mr. Pratt. I know that digging into your past and getting to the root of your own personal trauma can be daunting and uncomfortable, but unless you are willing to face your demons, you’re never going to be able to grow and heal.”
She was persistent. He had to give her that.
“Let me start off with something a bit easier. How do you feel about Matteo?”
Her question caught him off guard, and he wasn’t sure why she was asking.
Diesel shrugged. “He’s a good guy. Generous, loving. What does it matter?”
Dr. Bloom pulled her silver-rimmed glasses from her face and placed them down on the table next to her chair.
“And why is he generous and loving?”
Diesel shrugged his shoulders again. “He likes to help people and never asks for anything in return.”
“And has he helped you?” Diesel nodded. “How so?”
He stared at the inquisitive doctor and wondered how pissed off Matteo would be if he continued to ignore all of her questions going forward.
Matteo’s trying to help you , that voice deep inside him said.
This voice was different than the other voice. The other voice liked to remind him how worthless and trashy he really was.
Straight from the trailer park. Now you’re nothing more than a glorified stripper.
There he was. He wondered when that voice might appear during one of his sessions.
“Mr. Pratt?”
Jesus. Why did she insist on calling him by an old-man name? He was fucking twenty-five, not forty-five.
Deciding that it was easier to just end this nightmare of idiotic questions, he finally answered.
“M found me unconscious in a park in South London. I had mixed a bunch of party drugs and didn’t remember even walking to the park. Three days later, I woke up in the hospital with all my medical bills paid and no idea what my next move was going to be. I had been living on the streets for the past six months and was turning tricks to make money for food and drugs. Matteo offered me a safe place to stay while I recovered and got myself back on my feet.”
The doc nodded in agreement as if she understood everything that he had just said, but she didn’t.
No one did.
Unless you lived in that world, you didn’t understand the pain and the suffering. The feeling of powerlessness and anger. Anger that no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to get it right.
Matteo had seen all that. He somehow understood all the pain and suffering and anger that he felt. He didn’t push, he didn’t force, he just made an offer, then stood there for support. It was thanks to Matteo that Diesel was finally able to get off the streets. It was because of him, he was able to get a best friend. It was because of him that he was able to get brothers and a father, and a fucked-up and badass crazy family that he wouldn’t change for the world.
All because Matteo gave him a chance.
And how are you repaying Matteo’s kindness? that pesky voice inside him asked.
He was right. Matteo was once again trying to help him, and here he was, actively trying to sabotage his own future.
Feeling all that pain and suffering and anger building up inside him, he lifted his head and locked eyes with Dr. Bloom.
“I go on my binges to lose myself and numb the pain.”
Speaking those words out loud, he felt like he was releasing an atomic bomb into the atmosphere. What would the fallout be? Would he survive? Would Matteo lock him up in a treatment facility indefinitely?
By the time he got home from his therapy session, Diesel was wiped and beat.
“Hey, buddy, welcome back,” he heard Zero say from someplace in the living room. He didn’t have the energy to spar with him. Not today. Right now, he wanted to lie down in bed and let the blankets swallow him whole.
Ignoring Zero’s greeting, he walked up the stairs and into his bedroom.
He had just toed off his shoes and flopped down on the bed when his bedroom door opened.
“Everything alright, man?”
It was Zero.
Lying on his stomach, Diesel didn’t have the strength to flip over and give him the finger.
“Yeah, man. Just wiped. Please leave.”
There was a moment of silence where Diesel wondered if Zero had actually left the room. Then he heard an exhale.
“Right, dude. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
The door closed, and Diesel was finally left alone. Alone to process his thoughts and wonder how the fuck he was ever going to fix himself.
A small rap at the door had Diesel opening his eyes and raising his head. The room was dark, and he had no idea what the fuck time it was.
Groggy and disoriented, he sat up on his bed.
Light creaked in through the bedroom door as it slowly opened.
“Whatever you do, don’t scream. It’s only me. Bloke from across the hall.”
Further light filled the room as Zero pushed open the door the remainder of the way and took a step inside.
“You alive?” Zero asked, standing in the doorway like a six-foot-two menacing nightmare.
“It depends. Have you come here to murder me?” Diesel responded, sliding up so his back was pressed against the headboard.
“Not today, but if you keep stealing all the hot water, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Diesel flicked on the lamp next to the bed.
Standing in the doorway, holding a tray, was the hookup who never left.
“I come bearing food.”
“What time is it?” Diesel asked, reaching for his phone and tapping the screen.
It was just after eight p.m.
“What? Are you fucking serious? I slept all day?”
“You must have needed it,” Zero said, placing the tray down on the nightstand next to the bed.
The food smelled amazing.
Diesel’s stomach growled in response.
Chuckling, Zero passed Diesel the tray.
“Had to hide it from Jared. The boy eats everything in sight.”
Not waiting for Diesel to offer, Zero plopped himself down on the bed.
“Yeah. He calls it fueling. Apparently, each of his muscles needs its own meal,” Diesel added.
“Please. These muscles put his to shame, and I don’t eat half the shit that he does.” Zero flexed his bicep, not noticing the sudden shift in Diesel’s jeans.
“Thanks for this. I’m fucking starving. What is it?”
“It’s white-wine mushroom risotto with oven-roasted chicken breast. And for dessert…” Zero reached into his back pocket and tossed Diesel a pack of sour candies.
Wow. This whole thing was kind of… sweet. Why was the man being so nice?
Taking a forkful of risotto into his mouth, Diesel let the flavors slowly roll over his tongue. Fuck. He had never tasted anything quite so good.
“Damn, where did you guys order this from?” Diesel asked, moving over to the chicken once he swallowed his rice.
“We didn’t. I made it.”
Surprised, Diesel lifted his gaze and stared at the man. “Who knew that a washed-up underwear model could cook?”
Zero punched him gently on the leg. “A man has to have some secrets.”
Yes, he does.
Staring into his chestnut eyes, Diesel wondered what other hidden talents the man was hiding behind that tradie rough exterior. Part of him was curious to find out, while another part didn’t want to show that he was interested.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Diesel returned to his meal.
“So, where are the guys?”
Zero grabbed a piece of chicken that Diesel had just finished cutting with the side of his fork and popped it into his mouth.
Umm, rude much?
He appeared to ignore the slight growl that emerged from Diesel’s throat and proceeded to answer his question.
“They’re both out following the doc while he goes on his nightly walk.”
That made sense.
Silence fell over them both.
“So, do you want to tell me what this morning was all about?” Zero asked in a gentle voice that Diesel had never heard before. The man seemed genuinely interested to hear what he had to say.
Not quite sure how much he wanted to disclose to the guy who sucked him off next to a dumpster, Diesel took another bite of his chicken to buy himself more time.
“It was nothing, really.”
Bullshit. It was a lot.
Zero shifted on the bed, watching him, not saying a word. There was no judgment in his eyes, just pure curiosity.
“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, and for some reason, you refuse to see how irresistibly amazing I am.” Zero gave his shoulders a slight shrug. “But I know what it’s like to suffer in silence. Trust me, having someone to vent to or share things with can make things much easier to bear. And sometimes, it’s easier to talk to someone who you don’t really like.”
Diesel struggled not to smile. The guy was an idiot.
“What I’m saying is that I got your back if you ever want to chat.”
Who was this guy? He didn’t know how to deal with this nice version of Zero. Perhaps he should just punch him in the throat and get the old Zero back.
Stop being a dick. He’s just trying to be nice.
Fuck that annoying voice. Where was the other one that always told him what fun, wicked things to do? He would know how to handle this nice Zero pod sitting in front of him, offering him food and comfort.
Fine. He was going to throw the man a bone.
Placing his fork down on his plate, he shoved the food aside and took a deep breath.
“Not sure if the guys told you, but I’m seeing a shrink.” Zero shook his head and remained silent. “Well, today, she asked me something that really made me think. So when I got home, I was all up in my head and couldn’t deal with people, so I did what I always do and retreated into myself.”
Nodding his head slightly, Zero played with the edges of the blanket on his bed.
“I know how exhausting and painful therapy can be. I’ve had a few friends attend court-ordered sessions and seen them come out looking wrecked and shattered. But in most of those cases, the guys told me that in the end, the sessions really helped.” Zero placed his hand on Diesel’s leg again. “It sounds like you had a great session today. You should be proud of yourself.”
Standing, he began to walk to the door.
“Z?” Diesel called out, not really sure why or what he was going to say.
Zero stopped at the door and turned.
“Thanks for dinner… and for listening.”
“Anytime. You’re still a douche though,” he said with a smirk before walking out the door.
Diesel couldn’t help but smile.