Trembling like a leaf in the wind, I cough again with the need to rid my lungs of all the liquid. Breathing is not easy, and hurts like hell, and the place between my shoulder blades throbs. I’m sure tomorrow there’ll be a bruise there, just like the one I’m going to have in my chest.
Father grabs my chin and pushes my head up until our eyes meet. Have his eyes always been so cold and lifeless?
“Boy.”
I tremble in his grip. I’m not small by any means, but my dad has a strength that comes from a hard life. A life where he had to fight with claws and teeth to get everything he had.
“You better be cured by tomorrow, or you’ll be out on your arse. I want no sissy in my house.”
I look at him without blinking, but I’m sure he knows nothing of what they did has cured me. There is no cure, I was born this way, and nothing is going to change that.
His grip loosens, and my head falls, tears filling my eyes. I don’t have any fight left in me, and what’s the point when it would only lead to my death. I hear them walk away, leaving me on the floor, wet and scared and aware that my life is going to change forever tomorrow.
I didn’t know at that moment just how much it was going to change.
I take a sip of my drink just to realise it’s all gone. I must have drunk it while lost in my past. I wave at the bartender to bring me another one, and I watch my hands shake. I turn them into fists but I don’t know how to stop them. I wish I knew how to turn back time because I want to recover what I lost.
A shadow appears on top of my empty glass, but I keep my head down, until the sound of a chair scratching on the floor fills my head, followed by the presence of someone sitting down in front of me.
Between the memories and the loss of something precious to me, my temper rises like lava inside a volcano ready to erupt.
“What the f—“ I restrain myself from blowing up, but I’m ready to go on a rampage and take my pain and sorrow out on whoever the fuck has the audacity of sitting in front of me. I can already taste the satisfaction of reducing his face to a pulp, just to have some relief from the rage mixed with pain raging inside me.
Those are my thoughts before I meet his eyes, because once I do, I’m struck. They’re the most beautiful green colour I’ve everseen. It’s like looking at a forest while the sun shines through it. They speak of a lake on a stormy day, changing from green to grey as if following the weather’s mood.
His eyes grow bigger in surprise, as if he just realised what he’s done. His hand comes up as if trying to calm me down or ask for forgiveness.
I open my mouth, ready to bite like a deadly snake, but something stops me. Something that goes beyond his raised hands, something that’s simmering inside those eyes, and the pain of those memories is like a knife repeatedly driven inside my chest.
I’m sure he knows that kind of pain.
And I don’t know how, but I’m sure he knows the agony that comes from betrayal.
CHAPTER 4
Jay
It’s a dull night until my eyes land on someone. He’s sitting at the far end of the place, away from all the ruckus happening because people don’t know when to stop drinking.
I should be happy about it because that’s the moment when they seek me—us—out, and I get to put some money inside my pocket. Not for long, though, as most of it goes to Dick. But at the same time I’m not, because when they’re like this, they don’t refrain from roughing me up and inflicting pain.
Before that, we spend hours moving from one table to another, flirting and teasing and allowing people to grope us, but not too much, otherwise they won’t pay.
But since my eyes landed on him, I’ve avoided any contact with the other patrons. Maybe, I’ll be lucky tonight and get to have something I’ll enjoy.
I’m so taken by the guy that my body moves before I think better of it, and in a few strides I find myself standing next to his table.
In my line of work, I’m used to being forward in approaching people, but this is beyond my usual behaviour, especially when I’m here, because while I want people to notice me, I don’t want anyone to call the police and have me arrested because I’m soliciting customers in a public place.
Something in him is calling to me, digging deep inside to unravel hopes and dreams I’ve pushed down, making them a distant memory, so I could survive this life.
I spotted him when he entered the place. Tall, wide shoulders, a well-kept beard, and smartly dressed. Like you are for weddings or funerals. From the scowl on his face I bet he lost someone. Either they married someone else, or they’re beyond reach.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice his tattoos as soon as he shrugged off his jacket. And I’d be lying even more if I said I didn’t want to lick them one by one and follow their intricate designs until they were imprinted on my mind, body, and tongue.
Maybe what attracted my attention was the aura of sadness surrounding him, pulling at those strings inside me. The same strings that recognise in him a pain I live with every damn day of my life and want to soothe it away. No one else seems to notice, but for me it’s easy, because the same agony greets me every morning in the mirror. Or it’s discernable when I look at Jeremy.
I can’t stop my legs from taking me across the room, until I’m standing in front of his table. I’m not allowed to approach anyone, but I ignore the rule. Aren’t they meant to be broken anyway?
