Chapter 30
Jack
It’s loud and busy. The scent of gravy and freshly baked bread hangs in the air.
Freddy’s Diner is our favorite. I take Noel and Tommy here whenever I can afford it. It helps us remember our parents, who brought us every Sunday after church.
An old brass bell rattles when the front door swings open.
Noel spots me after he walks in. He doesn’t smile at me, but does at Tommy, who sits by my side. Noel slides into the booth across from us. He looks ragged, surely couch-surfing and borrowing clothes from his friends.
I don’t know what to say. He fidgets and snarls at me. A teenage time bomb. Dad would know exactly what to do. Guess that’s where I should start.
“I’m your brother, not your dad. I won’t lecture you or tell you what to do.”
“I thought you were gonna apologize,” he snaps. “That’s why I’m here.”
I sigh but nod. It’s the only carrot I had to get him to come out of the shadows. It was the first time in two months he responded to one of my texts.
It isn’t easy, because I am already paying a steep price for fucking Morgan. Not only did I lose him, I lost her. Guess I never had her. Still, this is adding insult to injury, but I swallow my pride.
For what’s left of my family.
“I am sorry, Noel. I shouldn’t have hooked up with Morgan.”
His jaw flexes, as if my apology only pissed him off more.
I try again.
“I was an asshole and a bad brother, okay? We good?”
He shrugs and looks away. “You still seeing her?”
“No.”
His gaze darts back. “No?”
“She ended things,” I admit, but this time, I am the one who has to look away.
“She did?” he says, his tone holding a mix of hope and confusion.
“You were right. Our differences mattered. I’m not her type. Can we talk about something else?”
He rubs the back of his neck, contemplating. “So wait, bro. You didn’t try to convert back? Didn’t even pretend? You just let her go?”
“Noel, I can’t fake it, you know that.”
He slumps in the booth and scoffs, shaking his head, like I am impossible. “Actually, you could fake it. If anyone could, it’s you! Not that I wanted you to.”
“Mom wouldn’t have approved of me lying to get a girl.”
“Ha! Why’a care? Mom’s in a coffin. In your eyes, she’s just worm food. No soul. No nothing.”
“I can still honor her memory.”
He just shakes his head once more, his mop of hair swaying.
I don’t want to talk about Morgan or feel his judgement. Especially about Mom or my lack of faith.
“Can we get past this, Noel? I want you to come home. Tommy and I miss you.”
“Ya!” says Tommy, who rests his rosy cheek on his palm. “I miss you.”
Noel warms some. It’s guarded, but better than seconds before.
He mutters, “Miss you, too.”
The waitress stops by and takes our order. We chat and catch up. I steer the conversation away from Morgan whenever Noel mentions her. I say nothing to upset him. I’m like a dog with my tail between my legs. I’m kind of a pussy, but tough love doesn’t work with Noel.
He steadily relaxes and eventually we manage to share a few laughs.
Then, half-way through the meal, my world tilts as the bell on the door jingles and in walks Morgan. She’s with...
Is that the motherfucker who—?
Her eyes land on me and the color drains from her face. She holds her breath and forces herself to look at the floor.
“Oh, shit,” murmurs Noel, catching who I’m staring at.
He straightens in the booth and fusses with his hair.
The crush endures.
But I watch her like a hawk as they are seated at a table across the restaurant.
My molars are cracking as I bite down in fury. This looks like more than two coworkers grabbing dinner. The asshat seems overly confident as he pulls out her chair. He whispers something in her ear before sitting down.
Christ, if she’s gonna dump me, at least date the other fuck. Not this slime ball.
“Why you eye-fucking her? Thought you were over Morgan?” says Noel.
I rip my eyes off her and pinch the bridge of my nose. “That asshole is not who I thought she’d be with.”
Noel’s spine snaps straight. “That’s pastor Gabe. They’re just friends. They aren’t—”
“It’s a date,” I assure.
Noel gawks, horrified. “Real?”
“What? Did ya think if I wasn’t with her, she’d run to you?”
“Maybe, but... not Gabe.”
I chuckle, amused he is equally disgusted by the situation and just now seeing reality.
“She’ll marry a pastor. Too bad you’re not a year older and ordained. Then you’d have a better shot than I did.”
His hands curl into fists and he scowls, but at least his anger isn’t directed at me.
I side-eye their table, unable to keep my eyes off her. She’s stiff and uncomfortable. Guess it’s me. This is gonna be awkward as hell. I should get our food to go. Neither Noel nor I will enjoy our dinner with that scene close by.
I am about to signal our server, but a flash catches my eye. It’s the silver ring on Gabe’s hand as it is swallowed by shadow under the table. His fingertips glide underneath to rest on her thigh.
Red floods my vision.
She squirms and crosses her legs to evade his touch.
This isn’t right. Even if she wanted to date Gabe, I can’t imagine she would be this uncomfortable. Fuck, she looks like she has a gun to her temple.
Gabe reaches for her hand instead and she jerks hers away.
She doesn’t want to be touched.
They argue in hushed voices, then stop. Her beautiful face is flushed and blemished with a frown. She hides behind her hands, elbows on the table, and just like that, Gabe’s hand slips under the table once more. This time, she doesn’t react, letting him lay his palm on her leg.
“Uh,” wretches Noel.
My eyes sear into his and I slide keys across the table. “Noel, Julie’s car is outside. Take Tommy home if shit goes down.”
His mouth hangs open. “But—”
“It’s Morgan, alright? He’s got his grimy hands all over her. That what you want?”
I don’t have time for this. I’m too fucking pissed. I slide out of the booth and stop at their table, glaring down at them.
Like the performer she is, she flips a switch. She lifts her chin and puts on that fake smile I hate.
“Hey, hon,” she says, bubbly and with that thick Southern twang. “How ya doin?”
“Can I help you?” Gabe interjects, his tone sharp.
Noel sneaks up behind me.
I ignore him. All I care about is Morgan. I lean down, palms flat on the table, demanding her attention.
“Cut the crap and lose the smile. I’m not Norm in the lobby.”
“Whatever do you mean?” she says sweetly.
Fuck this.
I grab her arm firm enough to drag her to a stand, but gentle enough she could break free. She wobbles on her heels, but I pull her close, her body touching mine. At first she stiffens, but just as quick, her soft frame leans into me.
It sends my pulse skyrocketing.
God, this feels right. Like she should’ve never left. Like I feel whole somehow.
Gabe snaps to a stand. “Hey! Let her go.”
This time, Morgan holds up her finger. “Give us a minute. I’ll handle it.”
I smirk. Handle what? This girl can’t even look at me.
“Eyes up,” I order, low.
Her gaze cautiously flutters up, locking onto mine. The restaurant blurs around me, as though it’s just us.
“You can lie to the world, church girl, but I see you. Gabe? Come on. Talk to me.”
She sniffles, and for a split second, her chin quivers.
“Jack... he has a photo of us. I had to. He’ll use it against you and the center.”
I chuckle softly and gently lace a lock of hair behind her ear. My fingertips skim the delicate edge, and I am transported back to tracing it with my tongue and nipping her earlobe. Her perfume fills my nostrils. I remember that intoxicating scent underneath me.
I can feel myself practically hunching over to keep her close and everyone else away.
“A photo? You protecting me, baby?” I murmur for just her to hear.
She nods, barely.
I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from kissing her. She leans her cheek into my palm like two months never separated us, making my chest freeze. I stroke my thumb under her eye, tender. “Never give yourself to anyone for me. Promise me.”
“Jack,” she whispers, her breath shaky. “Everything just so hard without you.”
She’s about to break, unable to hold herself together. Her hazel eyes well with tears, gutting me to see her pained.
“Hey, man!” Gabe snarls and grabs my arm. I spin to face him.
He stamps his foot. “Morgan is done with you, you tattooed lowlife.”
“Lowlife?” hisses Noel, jarring me.
Then, Gabe glares at her. “Tell him you’ve made your choice. Now.” His long fingers snake behind her neck, more a noose than an affectionate gesture. He holds her there, stiff and despondent.
She grimaces, caught between us, her body frozen like she is unable to say no. She has the same fear and panic in those eyes as she did the night Gabe attacked her. She might as well be saying, ‘Save me.’
Not a problem.
I shove Gabe’s chest hard, sending him toppling onto his ass. He thrashes, and kicks, but I drag him backward by his hair like he’s a trash bag.
Morgan yells. Never mind her.
His feet hook on the edge of a booth, but Noel kicks them free. I pull him into the kitchen. The staff back away from the abrupt ruckus and gawk.
It all happens so fast. Ten seconds, maybe.
Fueled by adrenaline, I grab his hand and shove it into the fryer.
Gabe screams bloody murder while Noel helps hold him in place. After a few seconds, I let him go. He flings himself backward onto the floor, screaming and holding his forearm just below the blistering skin.
“Go touch her with your slimy hand now,” I growl.
I hardly notice people screaming. Even Morgan’s frantic cries are muffled.
Because a thought flickers as the world around us fades back.
Tommy.
“Come on,” I order, and Noel follows on my heels. People record on their phones. We snatch Tommy and fly out of the door.
In the parking lot, I start the car and slam into reverse, squealing onto the street.
Noel catches his breath in the backseat.
“Fuck yeah!” he huffs, and checks for police behind us.
I grip the steering wheel and take a sharp corner.
What have I done?