Gabe
This is unbearable.
I’m not sitting at this goddamn table on Doug’s stupid porch where I have to stare at Jason and feel this pain in my heart anymore.
The next time Mom asks me to come to dinner, I am speaking the word, “No,” with my whole chest right to her face, and hopefully she’ll finally stop with th—
“Get a job yet?” Doug asks Jason.
The question comes out of nowhere, and it pulls me out of my spiral.
“I actually have an interview tomorrow,” Jason replies with a smug look on his face.
Wait, what?
If Doug had hair, his brows would be hitting his hairline right now. “Really? How’d you land that?”
Jason shrugs with a cocky flair and replies, “Walked right into the manager’s office and told him to give me a chance.”
When did that happen?
Mom reaches across the table and pats Jason’s arms. “That’s wonderful, Jason! That shows real gumption.”
“Where?” Doug asks.
Jason doesn’t answer for a few moments, but then he picks up his fork and says, “It’s not really a ”place” per se. The guy’s kind of an entrepreneur. He’s got his hands in a lot of pots, and I’m hoping he’ll find a place for me somewhere.”
“Like Old Man McGinty. Are you going to work in one of his shops?” she asks excitedly.
Jason looks at Mom and says, “I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it out loud. I’m a little nervous for the interview, you know?”
Mom nods. “That makes sense. Well, don’t be worried about it. You’re very charming, and I’m sure you’ll ace it.”
“Thanks, Linda,” Jason says before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.
“Hope it’s legit.”
Doug’s words hang in the air, shifting the mood entirely.
Mom intervenes immediately. “Of course it’s legit. Doug, you should be—”
“What do you consider legit?” Jason asks in a pointed tone.
“I’m saying it better not be drugs or guns or any of that other shit the HellCats get up to.”
Jason cocks his head to the side with a look of disdain on his face. “Would that really be so bad? Didn’t you actually kill people in combat?”
Doug points his finger at Jason. “That’s different."
“How?” Jason spits back.
Doug’s face is red with rage. “I was serving my country!”
Jason leans forward, his teeth clenched. “So, you murdered people for a country that left you high and dry in a trailer park. Is that right?”
Doug slams his fist on the table and screams, “Listen, you—”
Mom puts her hands up and says, “Guys, let’s n—”
“So, not only are you a murderer, but you’re also an abusive asshole who booted his family out of their home when he found a new—”
“Watch your mouth,” Doug interrupts, his face growing redder by the moment.
Jason leaps out of his chair and hollers, “Who the fuck are you to judge what’s legit, you trash bag?”
Doug rises next, squaring up with Jason, and I’m on my feet, primed and ready because like hell is Doug touching Jason again.
“Boys! Stop this,” Mom yells.
“You don’t want to do this, little boy,” Doug warns as he cracks his knuckles.
“You wish I were little. Then you could use me as your whipping boy for being a fucking loser!”
Doug’s fist flies, but I’m already leaping between them, and it connects with my face.
I fall backward into Jason, who goes nuclear. “You hit Gabe! I’ll fucking kill you, old man!”
Jason tries to charge at Doug, but I grab his arm and pull him off the porch with me. “I’ll kill you, Doug! No one touches him! No one!”
Mom screams at Doug to go inside, and she runs toward us. “Get him in the trailer and put ice on it,” she hollers to Jason. “I’ll deal with Doug.”
A second later, the screen door screeches open, and Mom reads him the riot act.
Jason wraps his arm around me. “Come on, let’s get ice.”
He leads me across the gravel road to our trailer, and, once we’re inside, he sits me down in a kitchen chair.
“Hold on.” Jason rushes to the bathroom, grabs a towel, then a fistful of ice from the freezer, and wraps it in the towel. He walks toward me and gently presses it against my eye.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Jason says, red-faced and seething. He has one hand on the ice pressed to my head and the other wrapped around the back of my neck. “Does it hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
“If you get a shiner, I’ll kick his ass so hard—”
Mom’s screaming grabs our attention, and Jason looks at me wide-eyed.
He rushes to the window and looks at Doug’s trailer. “Damn, I wish I could see inside there. She is laying into him,” he says with a chuckle. “Maybe I don’t need to kick his ass—Linda’s got it covered.”
As he walks back to me, he says, “Hope the sharp objects are locked up—”
He slaps his hand over his mouth.
Silence.
We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before Jason lowers his hand from his mouth. “I’m so sorry—”
A sharp pain shoots through my stomach, and my throat starts to close. Memories of that night whip through my mind like a slideshow played at double speed.
But then I look at Jason.
He has his hands on his face with a horrified expression, and it reminds me of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone.
And his eyes.
Bright blue and huge.
I don’t know if it’s the stress, the hurt, the horniness, or the fact that the statement was just so Jason, but I start laughing.
Uncontrollably.
Like a freaking hyena.
Jason watches me in horror.
“Fuck, did I break you?” he asks.
Aaaaand, that’s when I expire.
I fall to the floor, holding my gut as I cackle, and he looks down at me with a worried expression. “That was twisted. I’m so sorry.”
I can’t stop. I just keep laughing, endlessly.
Then Jason starts chuckling, and soon, we’re both cackling like we used to—laughing at the fucked up shit that happens in life because, if you don’t, you might start crying. I haven’t laughed this hard since…
Since he left.
Jason’s laughter dies down, and his face softens. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” he says.
I blush, knowing it feels good to laugh again, especially with him.
We stare at each other while we catch our breath, but then his face twists with rage, and the shift startles me.
His eyes darken as he says, “A bruise is forming.”
I hurry to grab the ice from his hand, hoping that covering it will calm him down, but Jason is on his feet. “That fucker’s taking a dirt nap.”
Before he can leave the trailer, I wrap my arms around his waist, pull him onto the couch, and straddle his lap to keep him in place.
“Let me up, Gabe.”
I shake my head no.
He clenches his jaw and grits out, “Get off me.”
I hold his face so he can’t look away from me. “Please don’t leave me,” I whisper. “Don’t go over there.”
He stills, and so do I.
My arms slowly wrap around his neck, and Jason’s face softens.
“No one gets to hurt you,” he whispers.
So, I lean closer and whisper back, “So, stop hurting me.”
The air leaves the room. He looks at me with wounded eyes and whispers my name.
I rest my forehead on his, fully intent on just staying like that for a moment, but Jason moves forward and slants our lips together. Whatever I was mad about before vanishes once our tongues connect. Soon, I’m rutting against his hard dick, yearning for him to tear off those jeans and fuck my—
“Oh my!”
Mom’s voice sends me sailing backward, falling to the ground and scrambling to wipe my mouth.
Of what?
I don’t know.
Evidence?
Jason crab-walks backward along the sofa, stopping at the far end, furthest away from Mom.
We look at each other, then Jason yells, “Linda! Please…please don’t be mad.”
Mom holds up her finger to stop him, then takes a breath. She scrubs her hands over her face, sighing, but soon that sigh morphs into a chuckle. Then a full-on belly laugh. “I should have seen that coming,” she says through laughter.
We both watch her have a moment that nearly matches the one we just had. It’s all just…so ridiculous.
Finally, Jason asks her, “Will you tell Doug?”
Mom looks at him with a soft expression before speaking. “No. That’s for you to share. If you want to.”
Then she looks at me and gasps, “You have a shiner!” She rushes forward to inspect my face. “I’ll kill him!” she blurts out.
“Not if I do it first,” Jason adds.
“NOBODY IS KILLING ANYONE!”
The words fly out of my mouth, like a piercing shriek, before I even have a chance to stop them.
I’m heaving. Shaking. My gut coils, and there’s an awful taste in my mouth.
Mom stares at me, confused, but then it dawns on her, and she starts apologizing. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry.”
This time, Jason can’t pull me out of it. It’s different with Mom in here—the scene of the crime. The crime she witnessed.
The trailer feels too small, and the heat is suffocating.
I hurry to exit, but Mom and Jason follow me. I turn around and shake my head no.
They stop, and I give them both a stern glance before shaking my head no again.
I hurry out of the trailer, and, as I walk, the memories take over: the lights from the cop cars, the smell of the trailer, and the look on Dad’s face. They all spin in my brain, making me queasy.
Then something hits me.
What if Jason finds out?
Images from that night are replaced with Jason’s expression.
How would he look at me if he found out?
Like I’m a monster.
Disgusting.
Because I am.
The bile rushes up my throat, and I fall to the ground, sick to my stomach.
I spend so much of my life trying to forget that night that I’ve never really grappled with the very real possibility that he might find out.
And when he does, he’ll never look at me the same way again.
I almost wish he hadn’t come back. Even though we’re not really anything—
The thought of losing him again…
I won’t survive it.