26. Joel
Chapter twenty-six
Joel
The quiet in the unit puts me on edge, so much that I pull down Jeremy’s battered guitar and try out a few chords. The poor acoustic beast shrieks, so out of tune it seems he hasn’t played all year.
Mom made us do a few years of music lessons, but Jeremy was the one who took to it. I dropped out, more interested in fixing things with dad in the garage. But after I get the old girl tuned up and the soft strings fill the silence, it feels like I’ve been transported to a bygone time.
An era when things were simpler.
My head knows I can’t hide out from the world forever, but my body doesn’t care. Outside that door waits a reality that wants to chew me up and spit me out.
I should probably go visit a doctor and the youth drop-in center as well, but I can’t face their harmless but bitter-tasting questions about a fiancé I no longer have.
The phone flashes. Must be about time for Jeremy to come home, right? My heart leaps as his name appears on screen. “Hey! How’s my superstar gigolo?”
“Keep calling me that and I’ll break you in half when I get home.”
I chuckle. “Okay, sorry. When do you get back?”
“Well, about that—”
Bad news is coming. It tingles against my ears, so I set the guitar aside.
“You know how I called you that time from the hospital?”
I frown and squint at the clock. “Um, yeah. I apologized for that, you know?”
“Oh, well, the thing is, I’m back on the ward.”
I lurch to my feet. “Shit, Jeremy! Was your concussion more serious?”
“No.” His laugh comes through the line half strangled.
I pour across the flat surfaces, searching for my car keys so I can leave fast.
“So, I had an accident while on the job. It appears I’ve, ah, sprained my groin.”
I freeze, staring at the photo on the wall of us as teenagers while I process.
“You . . . sprained your . . . groin?” A laugh bubbles up in my chest. “Holy shit, Jeremy! What the actual crazy karma sutra stuff were you doing?”
“Fuck off! I tripped over the omega’s dog.”
I roar with laughter, heaving so much I grab the back of the armchair for balance.
“Har-har,” Jeremy says drily. “Yeah, laugh it up.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry man.” I wipe at my tears, still shaking with laughter. “Just let me sit down before I hurt myself laughing. Don’t want to strain my groin or something.”
“You’re a real fuck head, you know that?”
“Yes, yes, I am. I’m a terrible brother, but I really needed that laugh.” I wheeze in a few breaths, trying to contain myself, with minimal success. “Damn, Jeremy. How can I help?”
“Done laughing?”
His barely disguised irritation sends me into another fit of chuckles. He waits silently while I get myself under control, the only other sound the beep of monitors in the background.
I rub my eyes and suck in a few deep breaths. “Okay, serious now. How bad is it, and what can I do?”
“So, it’s like a tear in the ligament. I’ll be on crutches for about a week and can’t move around much. But I’ll be out of here tomorrow. Do you think you can buy the trundle bed, and come pick me up? You’re not still drunk are you?”
I scoff. “That was, like, two days ago.”
“Uh-huh.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not drunk. I can do all that. Does your workplace know?”
“Yeah, they know. Good thing is their insurance covers everything.”
“Nice. Want me to bring you pajamas and a charger?”
“That’d be great. Also, there’s one more thing. I had this friend’s place I was gonna stop by on my way home. They need a hand with some things around the office. Do you think you can go instead?”
“Sure, if it’s stuff I can do. Send me the address.”
“Will do. Take your tools.” He gives me a few more details about what he wants packed, and then we hang up. I feel a bit bad about laughing so much, but I’m oddly refreshed inside, like I’ve excised a demon. And it’s given me something to focus on.
I whip around the room, collecting the things he’s asked for, and jump in the car. On the way to the address, which sounded familiar, I grab myself a Big Mac meal.
Waiting in the drive-through for my order, a strange sense of smallness overtakes me.
My life fell apart, but out here the rest of the world carries on without a care.
Thousands of cars zoom through the streets, people get lunch and go to the gym, and businesses carry on, oblivious to the pain I’m going through.
Will there come a time when I move through the day without feeling like a piece of my heart’s been ripped out? Where I’m not mad about being conned? Here, in the middle of crowds, it seems possible.
I follow the navigator through recognizable streets, but it’s not until I pull up in front of my own electrical business that I realize exactly what that fucking brat has done.
Larry, Javier, and my receptionist Melanie all notice my van and pile out into the parking lot to greet me.
Melanie beams. “Boss! Welcome back.”
Larry slaps me on the shoulder. “We were getting worried. Jeremy said you were ill?”
I’ll kill him when I see him. Or maybe not, because you shouldn’t do that to an actual sick person. I wince and turn it into a cough. “Yeah, not been doing too well. How are things here?”
Apparently they’ve got their hands full too. The jobs are piling up, a visitor backed into the office wall, and one of the testing machines stopped working.
I can’t stay long; got an “appointment” at the hospital to get to. But since I’m all the way out here, I suppose I can pull a few hours to smooth things over. Being late will be Jeremy’s punishment for pulling a swift one on me.
I walk into the hospital room just as the sun’s setting, pausing in the doorway to observe. Jeremy sits up in bed with a cloud of pillows at his back and the rollover tray across his lap, eating supper. He watches a game on the TV while spooning up plain steamed vegetables and dried-out rice.
He looks normal enough, no casts or drips, but dark circles shadow his eyes.
While I watch, he spills some food, pursuing peas across the tray while trying not to miss any of the game.
“You gonna keep chasing that rabbit food, or you want something real to eat?”
He jumps and turns, face lighting up as he catches sight of me and the TexMex bag I hold up. I know darn well I’ve done nothing to deserve that smile, and yet he flashes it anyway. It’s reassuring.
“About fucking time! Yes, please.”
I cross the room. “But I haven’t decided if I’m gonna share or sit here and eat it all myself, not after that stunt you pulled sending me to my own workshop.”
He smirks. “How far did you drive before you realized?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “Not until I pulled into the damn parking lot.”
He hoots and smacks his fist down onto the tray.
“Ha!” I scoff. “Think you’re so clever, huh?” I drop into a chair and pull my own dinner out, cracking the container’s lid to release the black bean sauce aroma.
“Come on,” he whines. “You won’t let a patient starve, will you? I mean, look at what they’re feeding me?”
I eye him like I’m considering holding out but end up passing him the bag. “How’s the leg?”
He shrugs. “I’m jacked up on something good. Can’t feel a thing for another hour.”
“You need me to pick up a prescription?”
“On the way home tomorrow, yeah. Haven’t got it yet.”
“So, what, bed rest?”
He pulls an ice pack out from under the sheet. “Ice, on and off. Rest. Compression stockings.”
I snort and he tosses me a wry smile.
“So, a dog, huh?”
“Yeah.” He scoffs. “The big pup was so happy to see his owner after four days, he knocked her over. I dove to protect her head and tangled with my own bags.”
I shake my head and spoon nachos into my mouth. “You should just say it was kinky shit between the sheets.”
He rolls his eyes, but smiles as he digs into his bowl, pulling out corn chips covered in stretchy cheese. Humming with appreciation as he chews, my brother switches his attention to the floor by my feet. “What’s in the other bags?”
“Your stuff.”
“What about the one with a box?”
“Just some personal things I need.” The lie comes easy.
He grunts and lets it drop, stuffing more bean sauce in his mouth.
“Seriously, Jerry, how was the job?”
His gaze turns serious. “It was . . . unreal. She was so responsive.” He chuckles over a memory. “And worked me hard too.”
“Is that why you look like shit?”
He chokes and drinks water. “Yeah, well, I didn’t get much sleep.”
I study him as I load more food into my mouth. He looks different. Is this what they call glowing? Surely I must be imagining things. Men don’t glow to begin with, do they? Maybe it’s a side effect of the medication.
“Sounds like you had fun,” I mutter.
“No, it was more than that. It was . . . life changing.” He looks out the window, and I can practically see the soap opera smoke rising off him.
“Life changing? More than just good sex?”
“Yeah, it was. She was. I wish you could meet her, Joel. She was stunning, but more than that, feisty and soft all at the same time.”
Like that even makes any sense. But his words stir old memories locked deep inside, things we never talked about.
“I’d be surprised if you ever let me near another omega of yours.” I say it quietly, half hoping the game commentating might drown me out.
It doesn’t.
Jeremy drops his food onto the tray, mutes the TV, and turns his full attention to me. “Brought up quite a few memories for me too. She was the only omega I’ve been with, since . . .”
“Maisy,” I finish softly.
“Yeah.”
We never talked about her after she broke things off with us. With me, specifically. Jeremy just got caught up in the fall out. He’d been too close to the source of our girlfriend’s pain, and she couldn’t stay with him without thinking of me.
For the first time in my life, I truly understand why. I clear my throat, the words sticking. “I never meant . . . for that to happen.”
He eyes me, picking his words carefully. “I know. But you also didn’t mean to be serious.”