Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Jonah
My roommates have done the one thing I never thought was possible. I now hate AC/DC.
“Highway to Hell” blares from our apartment—a four-plex that’s seen better days.
The cars clogging the parking spaces point to another long night.
This is the third party this week. I get it.
The weather is warmer and people are more social.
I just wish they’d go somewhere else. As I walk through the door, Brody is in the small living room doing pushups.
He’s surrounded by girls cheering him on.
I keep my head down as I pass through. Maybe no one will notice me.
“Hey…Jonah.”
The music is loud so, of course, I can’t hear him. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. I make it as far as the door to my room, reaching for the handle, when Brody grabs my shoulder. This time, he yells. “Jonah!”
Normally, nothing rattles me. But right now, I am so done. “What?”
His smile falters. “We have beer…and pizza.”
“Awesome.” And then, because I can’t freaking help it, I add, “Thanks. I’m good.”
Brody shakes his head. “Dude, you act like you’re thirty or something.”
“He’s from Nebraska,” Zee says from behind him. “Their parties consist of a beer or two around the bonfire—”
“Can you guys just keep it down?” I don’t have the energy to deal with this today. I open the door to my room, but Brody steps in front of me, giving Zee a look.
“Hang out with us, Jonah. Please?” He gives me his pouty face that used to work.
“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “I have a headache.”
Zee snickers, and Brody shoots him a look before turning his attention back on me. “We, um, need your help, dude. The sink is clogged again.”
It’s not like I thought they actually wanted to hang out. Not with me being so boring and all. What would they say if they knew the things I actually liked? I glare at Brody. “Call the sup—that’s their job.”
“Dude, they take forever.”
I let out a frustrated sound. “How is it neither of you knows how to unclog a sink?”
He folds his arms across his chest. “How is it that you do know how?”
“It’s the Nebraska farm boy in him,” Zee says with a grin.
“Both of you can fuck off.”
But I follow them into the kitchen. It’s the only way I can get time to myself. And it takes less time to fix the damn thing than it does to argue about it. “Stop pouring grease down the sink, Zee.”
He grins. “Wasn’t me.”
Once I get to my room, I slam my door shut and lock it. I’m so tired of having roommates, but I can’t afford my own place. Mule Creek is a small town, but its proximity to Kansas City drives prices up.
Living with Brody and Zee was fun at first, but I’m not good at telling people no. And people tend to take advantage of that. You’d think knowing that would make it easier. It doesn’t.
At least I’m not in Nebraska, still living at home like my stepbrother Vivian. Although, if my dad has his way, I’ll be back home someday soon, taking over the farm.
That’s not happening, but I can’t bring myself to tell him that. I hate not being honest with him. It reminds me of my mom. She pretended for years that everything was perfect. Until the day she left to focus on her dreams. I was a freshman in high school.
Dad and I got by okay, and then he met Carolynda online.
They clicked immediately and got married when I was a junior in high school.
A year later, her son Vivian came to live with us.
It’s been six years, and Vivian still has that look on his face.
As if living in Nebraska is one big punishment he has to endure.
My stepbrother is an arrogant, entitled ass, and if I hear one more person tell me he’s the most beautiful person they’ve ever met, I’m going to throw up on his Christian Louboutin shoes.
I slump into my chair and grab my PlayStation controller. It’s been a while since I’ve played. But my focus is shit, and after one round of Fortnite, I give up.
Everyone thinks I’m this quiet farm boy. What would they say if they knew the things I liked? The things I fantasized about?
I grab my laptop and get comfortable on my bed. My heart pounds faster with fear and anticipation. What if they hear me? But the music is too loud for that.
I pull up my favorite porn site. The videos I watch over and over show a submissive—usually a twink—getting dominated by a bigger guy.
Controlled.
God, I want that. Not being dominated. I want to be the one in control.
The smaller guy is on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He has dark hair—which doesn’t matter at all to me—and big eyes begging to be punished. It doesn’t take long to get off.
As I clean up, I’m left with an empty feeling. I’ve dated a few guys, but I can’t bring myself to share this part of me with my partners. Would they laugh? Call me perverted?
I shrug off those stupid thoughts. I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But knowing it and admitting it are two different things. I put on my headphones to drown out my once-favorite band and fall asleep.
I don’t sleep well, so I’m still grumpy the next morning.
Opening the fridge, I search for the ingredients I bought earlier in the week to make omelets.
But all I find is beer, leftover pizza, and a dried-up lime.
The carton of eggs I bought is in the fridge, but all the eggs are gone. There was a half dozen yesterday.
I bend over to check something in the back—a moldy block of cheese. Great.
Phweee-hwew!
My head jerks up at the whistle, and I hit the upper rack. Ow. I turn and glare at Brody.
He grins. “Nice ass.”
My roommate is straight and not funny.
“Bro. What happened to the food I bought last week?”
Zee bounces into the room. The guy has so much energy it’s exhausting. “Sup, guys.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “Feeling better, Jonah?”
I fold my arms across my chest and glare. “Where’s my food?”
“Food?” His brow crinkles. “You might need to be more specific.”
I clench my hands to keep from shaking him and turn to leave.
Zee jumps in front of me. “Hey, Jonah. Can you loan me twenty bucks?”
“You didn’t pay back the last twenty.”
Zee runs his fingers through his blond hair. “It’s not my fault. They shorted me on my hours again. I promise I’ll pay it back next week.”
I’m pretty sure my roommate has gambled away all his money. “Can’t. I need to buy more groceries since someone keeps taking mine.” And now that I’ve worked myself up, I can’t stop. “There was a gallon of milk in here yesterday, and now it’s gone, Zee.”
He grins. “That wasn’t me.”
“Didn’t you have a glass of milk with your donuts this morning?” Brody asks with a smirk.
“That was one glass. I had to drink something.”
“There’s plenty of beer,” I point out.
“Yeah. But then you’d be griping about me ‘drinking all the time.’” He uses air quotes.
I can always tell when Zee is lying, and it’s not because he’s always lying. His nose twitches. “I’m waiting, Zee.”
He rolls his eyes and throws his hands in the air. “Was I supposed to tell the girls to drink water? That’s not hospitable.”
I shake my head and leave the room before I start screaming.
“Dude,” Zee calls from the kitchen. “What about the money?”
I arrive at work with enough time to check the breakroom. My boss, Nat, always keeps it well-stocked. And today, I really appreciate it.
Bishop Fields is an event-planning business on the outskirts of Mule Creek.
We mostly do weddings, with the occasional charity gala thrown in.
People are ridiculous when it comes to weddings.
Case in point, we have an Alice in Wonderland-themed wedding in a few weeks.
But at least it’s interesting, and it pays the bills.
Between painting a giant teacup and moving chairs, I check for apartments to rent.
If I didn’t have student loans, I could have saved up the money I need.
It’s funny how the one lie I’ve told my dad keeps biting me in the ass.
But convincing him I had a scholarship so he wouldn’t use money from the farm to pay for my college was important.
He would have gladly given it to me and said my business degree would be an investment for when I took over the farm.
Which is not happening. Ever.
I have a couple thousand saved up, but it’s not enough. Where am I going to get another three grand?
My phone rings, and I answer it before Nat can gripe at me. “Hey, Dad.”
“Jonah, Maisy’s birthday party this weekend isn’t optional.”
My dad doesn’t do small talk. Part of being a farmer. Always work to get done. Maybe that’s why I’m not as chatty as my friends.
“I’ll be there.” My sister is turning four. And while I’m still not over my dad marrying Carolynda and starting a whole new family so soon after Mom left, none of that is Maisy’s fault. I’d never miss her birthday party.
“Good,” he says with a grunt. “And for God’s sake, try to get along with Vivian.”
As if I haven’t tried.
“It’s not me,” I start because I can’t help it. Why does Dad always take Vivian’s side?
His sigh is loaded with disappointment, and I stop, shame crawling up my chest. Damn Vivian for putting me in this position in the first place.
“I’ll be good—” I bite off the rest of it—if he is.