After a nine-hour drive, we end up in Texarkana, pulling up in front of a cemetery a little before six that evening.
Honestly? I have no clue why we’re here, and we’re the only ones here.
But we get out and Carter goes to the back hatch while Jace and I stand there waiting, him holding my hand.
Carter rejoins us, carrying three shot glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Ghost and Rare. Taking point, he heads off into the cemetery with us following and, once he gains his bearings, leads us diagonally through tall, elegant tombstones to a section where small, flat marker stones with plain metal plates fixed to them identify what look to be lesser-heeled residents.
When he stops at one, Jace pulls me up short, makes me turn to face him, and holds both of my hands.
“I love you, Eddie,” he says, and I know Carter can hear him. “But nothing matters in this world except where we are now in our lives, and where we’re going. We’re putting the last ghost to bed for goodrightnow. Understand?”
I nod. “Yes, Master.” He hasn’t called me Eddie in weeks. I actually had to think for a moment who he was talking to, because I’ve accepted Topper completely as my new name. For legal purposes, he’s told me he’ll refer to me as Tom if we have to give someone a name, for example, at a doctor’s office. But just like he’s Jace, and their older brother is Park instead of Parker, Jr., my name is now Topper.
Still holding my left hand, he leads me over to the grave. Carter sets the bottle and shot glasses off to the side behind him and glances around before unfastening his fly. “Glad we got here when we did. I’m not sure how much longer I could’ve held it.
Jace releases my hand. “Me, too.” He starts to unfasten his fly, then looks at me. “Come on. You, too.”
Confused, I start to follow suit when I actually read the nameplate on the marker stone.
EDWARD ANDREW FOWLER
With his dates of birth and death. I need a second to process that and realize who he is.
My father died twenty-six years ago.
“Come on, Topper,” Jace says. “You first, buddy. We can’t hold it all day.”
I stare at those letters on the bronze plate as I let loose and my stream of piss floods over the nameplate, quickly joined by the brothers. We spray it all over the marker stone and what I imagine is the head of the grave, my anger growing and swelling even as hot tears flood my eyes and blur my sight.
“Takethat, you motherfucking chickenshit asshole,” I say.
“He was arrested twenty-two times in four states for petty crimes,” Carter says as he finishes and shakes it. “Fathered three more kids after getting your mom pregnant when he was twenty-three, two of whom are still alive, two girls, different mothers. The son died in infancy from SIDS. He didn’t raise the girls, though, because he ran out on their moms, too. Seems he had a pattern.” He zips up and pulls a package of wipes from his back pocket and uses one.
Jace finishes up and Carter hands him a wipe. “He spent a total of eight years in jail over the course of his life,” Jace says. “He died here in a homeless camp. Froze to death one night. Police found him the next morning, naked. Apparently, all his stuff was taken by others. He was identified by fingerprints. Pauper’s grave, obviously. Frankly, good riddance to bad fucking garbage.”
Numb, I finish, shake, zip, and take the proffered wipe. “Thank you.”
Carter cracks open the bottle and pours us three shots. Then, thinking for a moment, he says, “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole. I think you became a damned good man. A lot better man than you would have been had someone like him been an influence in your life.”
Jace nods. “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole. If he hadn’t abandoned your mom, we might never have met you.” He brushes a kiss across my lips. “And you are the best fucking thing in my life, baby. No offense, bro.”
Carter laughs. “None taken.”
Warm heat fills me and I haven’t even thrown back my shot yet. I stare down at the piss-covered marker. “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole.” I shoot him a bird with my free hand. “Fuck you, you goddamned motherfucker. I thrived despite you. Iliveddespite you. And if there is a Hell, I hope you’re burning there.”
“Amen,” the brothers echo.
We all clink glasses and drink. Carter takes the glasses and picks up the bottle. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take your time—I’m going to call home.”
When we’re alone again, Jace pulls me into his arms and tightly holds me. “You and me, pet. Forever. You and me against the whole goddamned world.”
“Yes, Master. Forever.”
“Love you, baby.” He kisses me and every other thought flees my mind.
He loves me.
I have no doubts about that, and no desire to run away from the brutal truth of the nature of our love.
