Chapter 10 #4
Behind him, Malcolm went stiff as steel.
Iggy deflated, having only said those words out loud once, to his most recent therapist, and that was after two months of working together.
That the words slipped out in front of Malcolm spoke to how instinctively he still trusted the man.
Grief and anger bubbled up and both stuck in his throat.
“Iggs, fuck,” Malcolm said in a heartbroken voice Iggy didn’t recognize. “I am so sorry.”
And that was it. No string of the typical questions—When? How? Why? Did you find him?—only a quiet acceptance of the statement. Too many people wanted to rubber-neck the facts and forgot that real people were involved in those roadside tragedies. Not Malcolm Montgomery.
“He was waiting for a response to an audition tape he’d submitted,” Iggy said, words tumbling out.
“If the show ever aired, I don’t know, I didn’t care.
But Darren wanted on it. He always had more ambition than talent, and, like so many of us who never had real familial support, he was trying to prove something to his father.
He was a wrecking ball of nerves for months, and then I came from work one night and he… wasn’t.
“He never told me he got the rejection, he was just less anxious for a while, and I took it to mean he’d moved on to another project or audition.
He was so tender when we made love, and he bought me little treats.
One night, he came to my work and tipped all the bartenders a hundred dollars so they wouldn’t get upset that he sat at a prime stool to watch me work for five hours.
I should have known something was wrong then. ”
“Hey, let’s get down.” Malcolm released his waist and slid off the bull. When he reached out, Iggy allowed Malcolm to pull him down and into a full-bodied hug. Iggy listed into it as old guilt and anger bulleted around his body like ice in a shaker, leaving him bruised and thoroughly chilled.
He treasured the memories of that night as much as they tormented him, despite his therapists’ best efforts.
The love-struck way Darren watched him all night long, only sipping two drinks across the many hours so he was sober and aware.
Occasionally showing a flash of jealousy when Iggy flirted for better tips.
Applauding when Iggy did one of his more impressive bottle tricks.
Being there in a way Darren never had before.
Too good to be true.
“Do you wanna sit somewhere?” Malcolm asked.
Iggy pulled him down to sit on the cushioned bullpen, practically on Malcolm’s lap, their legs tangled, arms around each other.
If he stopped, he might never start again, and he had to get the poison out.
“He was always such a tidy person at home, never wanting to leave a mess. Did you know that burning charcoal in sealed rooms causes acute carbon monoxide poisoning, like leaving a car running inside a closed garage? I have no idea how Darren heard about it, but maybe he thought it would be a simpler, less messy way to go. He never left a note to explain the method.”
“Or his reasons?”
“I think his reasons were pretty obvious. He hadn’t locked his phone, so when I looked through his emails, I found the rejection for that cooking show. He’d gotten it exactly a week before he was found with a little tabletop charcoal grill, the coals nothing but cold gray ash.”
“You didn’t find him?”
“Our cleaning lady did. I was out of town for the night, doing an event. She found him the next morning.” Hot tears trickled down Iggy’s cheeks, but he couldn’t let go of Malcolm’s hands to wipe them away.
“I think he planned it that way, so I wouldn’t find him.
He’d already sent the cleaning lady a huge bonus. ”
“He thought ahead. He must have researched the method. It wasn’t impulsive.”
“No.” Iggy wiped his cheeks with his upper arm as best as he could. “Did you minor in psychology or something?”
“I tried but I didn’t have the credits, because I couldn’t pass the classes.
” Malcolm rubbed a palm across his back in a constant, soothing motion.
“I remember a lot of the stuff about, you know, self-harm and suicide because of my own experiences with my dad. The way things seemed so bleak and pointless for a long time. Until I nearly mowed down this new guy in the hallway at school.”
Iggy burrowed in closer, grateful when Malcolm hugged him tighter, like he was trying to pull Iggy right inside his own body.
“I’ve never been more grateful to be nearly mowed down by someone late for class.
This big, awkward, jock-like guy who was just as lost and lonely as me.
Who didn’t lash out when I offered Epsom salts. ”
“That’s because you were never a jerk about my dad beating me. You didn’t make a spectacle of it, or make me talk about my feelings. You just…let me exist with you.” He nuzzled Iggy’s temple. “Let yourself exist with me now, Iggs.”
He wanted that more than anything else in the world. Iggy pushed away dark thoughts, pushed away regrets and guilt and shame, and he chose to exist.
Iggy pulled Malcolm’s head down and claimed him with his kiss.
And they existed together like never before.