“And so they march past my room to the bathroom down the hall, and I hear them laughing.” I shivered suddenly. “They had come to clean up. Our apartment had been the closest place to do that after…” I swallowed hard to keep the bile down. “After they ‘showed that queer what he had coming.’”
“Jesus, baby…”
“I knew who they were talking about. It was this middle-aged gay man who ran a bar on Dad’s turf. He’d probably been slow on payments or something, you know, protection money.”
“Your dad does sound like the mob.”
I guffawed. “He fucking wishes.” I shook my head as much as I could lying down. “He’s…”
“Mob adjacent?” Jack asked in a tone that suggested someone else had said it first. “The hacker,” he added as an explanation.
“Yeah, that’s the closest way to describe it. Like…they wouldn’t trust him, but they can work with him. Never made any sort of inner circle or hell, any circle. He does well at what he specializes in, so there was always money. Occasionally someone tried to pin something on him, but they never could. Sometimes someone got killed or went away for a while…”
After a bit of silence, Jack prompted me again. “So, they talked about what, attacking the gay barkeep?”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah.” The next bit was…rough. “And then they joked some more about how my dad didn’t even know his own kid was a fucking queer, and how did I think I could get away with it. Like…my dad was always about saving face, keeping up appearances. Having a queer kid would be a blow.” I felt Jack press a kiss on the top of my head again. “Then then one of them replied that if my dad wanted to give a lesson to this queer, he’d surely do that and more to his own offspring. Because no way could he have a faggot for a son.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. Nobody should have to hear something like that.”
“The thing is, the guys left, and eventually I went to use the bathroom. They hadn’t really paid attention, so there were still blood stains on the sink and a towel. This poor gay guy’s blood who deserved none of it.” I realized I was speaking in this monotone, probably because the shock of that day tried to make a reappearance.
“Okay, come here,” Jack said and grabbed my forearm, then tugged me until I was literally on top of him under the covers. “I don’t want to suffocate you so I won’t flip us over, but here. Maximum skin contact.”
I found myself lying on top of him like some sort of a puppet with cut strings.
“I packed a bag and left for school next morning, except I didn’t go to school at all.” I snorted softly. “And I got so anxious to get away that I forgot the bag.”
Jack’s soft chuckle rocked his body and mine. “Jesus. You’d be the worst street kid ever.”
I guffawed. “Holy shit, I so would!” Then I realized we couldn’t be loud because Mona was asleep and hiccupped out a laugh.
“If you wake her up, Madden will come here and smother you with a pillow,” Jack warned me, grinning as he knew where my thoughts had gone.
Somehow, I managed to keep my hysteria-tinged laughter quiet. Then I slid off Jack’s body and cuddled up next to him again.
I fell asleep and woke up to him moving.
“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m going to go start the day.”
“Okay…”
* * * *
I woke up and wandered into the bathroom, then to get dressed in my room. My Instagram post had a few more likes now, which only showed how few people still cared about me back in Brooklyn.
“Morning, baby.” Jack smiled warmly when I came down to the kitchen.
I went to hug him from behind and willed myself to wake up properly. I’d already slept longer than normal.
“I think he’s going to be here before lunchtime, or midday at the latest,” I murmured against the back of Jack’s chef’s jacket.
He picked up a knife from the new roll and started to slice some fruit.
“That’s okay. If he’s negative, we’ll tell him he’s not welcome.”
I laughed through my nose. “Yeah. I don’t see him being positive.”
“We’ll see.”
