Heartless (Keeping Secrets) (6 page)

He fished keys out of his pocket and hit the unlock button on his electric-blue Camaro and then walked over to the passenger side to open the door. “Get in,” he commanded. I obeyed, sliding into the racing seat and sitting there. He ducked down and buckled me in. “Is your stuff still by your locker?” I nodded dumbly. His car smelled nice. It had that new-car smell. I liked it. “Okay.” He shut the door and took back off through the parking lot, weaving in and out of cars expertly.

He was back in five minutes, holding our backpacks and a campus pass. He threw the backpacks into his trunk and got into the driver’s side. He handed me the white pass, which I stared at. Every school has them, I’m sure. They were little notes of freedom that you gave to the security guard on your way off campus. These little notes were worth their weight in gold because you couldn’t leave campus without one.

“I told them you were sick and I was driving you home,” Tommy offered as he started the engine. It purred and I felt the vibrations through the floorboards. As we passed the mascot that was the official starting point of student parking, I was struck by the similarities between Tommy and the Erwin Warrior. Maybe it was the shock talking, or maybe it was the way he looked so cool and confident behind the wheel of his car, with his white-and-red Erwin letterman jacket. Either way, I was glad he was there.

We stopped briefly at the guardhouse before hopping onto the highway. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. I didn’t know if I had the stomach to go home right now. Jonathan would be there.

“Can we go to your place?” I whispered. He nodded and put his eyes back on the road. I was grateful for it. I settled into the seat and stared out the window.

T
OMMY
’
S
house was a pretty big Victorian over in the historic district. Not the fanciest part of town, but it was one of the most established neighborhoods. “You’ll need ice for those,” Tommy said as he unlocked the door. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but then I looked down. My wrists were already starting to bruise, the flesh turning an ugly gray color already. Cade must’ve eaten his Wheaties this morning.

I let him tug me into the kitchen while he readied ice packs for me. My brain wasn’t taking in any details. The kitchen had a stove and a fridge and therefore qualified as a kitchen in my mind. He made up the pack quickly then went through another doorway that I assumed would be a mudroom of some kind. It wasn’t. It was his bedroom.

“Uncle Mark is in and out of the house throughout the day. He bought a small art gallery downtown a few months ago. He used to be some big art dealer back in Boston so he’s downscaled a lot. He likes to come home for lunch and when the shop’s not too busy since he has someone to manage it. Uncle Charlie won’t be in until after six, though. He works at HomeTrust Bank,” Tommy said. The words were almost apologetic. Did he think that I thought he’d want something for saving me? I didn’t, but I wouldn’t have minded. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded. “Tap water is fine if you’ve got it.” He sat me down on the edge of his bed and placed the cold packs on my wrists. I stared at them blankly as he turned back toward the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back.”

It was weird being so immersed in his space. Tommy hadn’t been in this room long, if the accumulation of stuff was any indication. Normally a guy’s room is filled with crap. At least mine was. Most of the stuff is a memory of some kind, even if the memory was just a birthday. Tommy had no posters on the wall. He had three big portraits hanging instead.

They were family portraits, the kind that every “real” family got once a year to send out with Christmas cards. I’d never experienced the phenomenon myself, but Kevin complained loudly every time Tina got the itch. He’d end up dressing up in a sweater in mid-June and get dragged to the nearest portrait studio to take holiday photos with his parents because all the discounts were levied out during the summer, when no one wanted their pictures taken. They might’ve been rich, but Tina was all about saving them money, so discounts and sales got her all giddy. It was a really weird quirk, but then I thought all rich people had to be a little eccentric. The portraits were the only super personal things in Tommy’s room. There were still several stacked boxes in one corner, the remnants of the life he’d left behind. I wondered if they were memories too painful for him to take out yet.

The cream-colored wallpaper was old and flaking around the doorway. Another thing they apparently hadn’t had time to fix before Tommy had moved in. He had a cluttered desk shoved in one corner, with papers and notebooks scattered on top. He had a full-size bed with a simple gray-and-black comforter with some sort of cool swirling pattern. It was comfortable, too, and I found myself relaxing as the seconds ticked by. I wondered how she’d died. Had Tommy seen it coming, or had it been as quick as a gunshot? It was a morbid curiosity but one that I couldn’t help but have.

Tommy walked back into the room with a yellow plastic cup of water and a straw. His thoughtfulness struck me as odd. “Sorry I took a while. Couldn’t find where Uncle Mark stuck the straws.” He sat down beside me and lifted my ice packs to check my bruises. He frowned and put the ice back on. “You’re swelling a little bit, but it should be okay.” He lifted the cup so that I could drink from the straw. I did, my eyes never leaving his gray ones.

I finished sipping. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked. I had to know. I had to know what his ulterior motive was. He looked surprised by my question.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I heard you tell him to stop, and I just reacted.” I nodded. I guess that made sense. Though Tommy had never struck me as exactly the honorable type, he was probably reacting to several thousand years of evolutional programming that said men helped the weak. The thought of me being one of the “weak” did not sit well with me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at this point.

“Thank you,” I said. What else was there to say? He did save my ass. The numbness was starting to wear off now, and I was getting the shakes. I couldn’t believe what had almost happened. Tears threatened my vision again, and I let out a well-placed string of curses. I was not going to cry in front of Tommy again. I wouldn’t repay his strength with yet more of my weakness. I turned my head and stared at the wall, willing myself to get a grip.

I felt warm hands on my shoulders, and I was forced to look at him again. I stared at him in incomprehension. What did he want of me? “It’s alright, you know. It’s alright to let it out.” Just like that, the well broke and tears cascaded down my face as the fear from before caused me to sob pitifully, like a little girl. Like Cade’s tears, mine were not pretty Hollywood tears. I curled into myself, feeling ashamed. Tommy would have none of it. He took me in his arms and let me snot and cry all over his T-shirted chest. All the time he murmured unintelligible words in my ear and stroked my back in slow circles meant to ease me through the pain.

We stayed that way for about fifteen minutes, his arms around me and my head resting between his pecs. I listened to the steady thumping of his heart and smelled the clean scent of male and felt the warmth of his arms around me. It was like coming home.

“Jason.” My name was a prayer, and I loved the way it sounded on his lips. My fear and pain transformed into something else, something tender. I pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for, but there it was. I think I was sorry for everything, for the shitty thing I’d done freshman year, for the way I’d scoffed at him afterward, for hitting on his cousin, for the mess he’d had to drag me out of. I was sick to death of myself in that instant, and I wanted to apologize for my very existence.

“It’s okay.” His voice had taken on the same hushed cadence as mine. Forgiveness was so sweet when I was getting held like this.

He tilted my chin up so our lips could meet, and I can honestly say it was the sweetest kiss I’d ever been given. The mask I usually wore slipped away, and I was just Jason and he was just Tommy and the world had stopped spinning, time had stopped going forward and had ceased to exist altogether. Nothing from before was important and nothing that would come after. The only thing that mattered was the firm press of his lips to mine and the first tentative touch of his tongue. I got drunk off one taste of Tommy.

I don’t know how long we kissed. I do know that he was the one to pull back. “You don’t have to do this to thank me.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “I know that’s what you think, but that’s not what’s going on. Okay?” My eyes blinked open lazily.

“Then what is this?” I asked. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, and I was enchanted by the nervous gesture.

“I like you.” The words were mumbled, barely understandable. I couldn’t comprehend them.

“Why?”

“Because you’re sexy and smart and funny and about a million other things you don’t notice, but everyone else does.” Tommy wouldn’t meet my eyes as he made the confession. How could he think those things about me? I had done something unforgivable.

“You told me to stay away from Danny,” I said, repeating the words he’d spat at me at the drum circle. “You told me that I’d ruined your life.”

He sighed and seemed to hold onto me tighter as he spoke. “I told you to stay away from Danny because I was jealous.” My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “And you didn’t ruin my life. You hurt my ego.”

Hope pounded through my veins. Hope is an ugly thing. It’s a demon, really. It makes you think everything is going to be all right just before it crushes you. It’s the exit sign in a horror movie that the main characters are racing toward as a killer chases after them. It’s also the bag of popcorn some kid left on the floor for the protagonist to trip over so they fall just short of freedom. Their death becomes so much more tragic because of that stupid fucking hopeful sign. My thoughts raced as I took in his words. Did he understand? Did he get it? Did he want me?
Really
want me this time? I had to test it.

I forced myself to chuckle. “Hey, man, if this is about sex, I’m down. You’re hot as hell, and you know it. But I’m not into relationships.” As screwed up as it was, I wanted him to correct me. I wanted him to refuse to touch me because it would sully what we could conceivably have. I wanted him to shake me and tell me that love was not sex and what he felt for me went beyond his urge to ejaculate.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. My heart sank. Yeah, hope was a bitch. I wanted to cry all over again, but I wouldn’t. Not now. Now I was back on familiar territory.

I shrugged. The shrug meant everything and nothing. “I’m not exactly good to go right now, but if you want to pick it up in a few hours, I should be good.” Why did I do this to myself? Why? Not even I could explain. I hated myself for doing it but couldn’t seem to stop from doing it, either. I was stuck in this fucking cycle of men wanting a piece of me and me throwing it at them and relishing the fact that they couldn’t hurt me. But they were hurting me, weren’t they? My worth had been reduced to a set of well-placed orifices. I couldn’t blame them entirely. I’d done my fair share of making myself a sex object, but damn it, for once I wanted someone to see me. Maybe that was why I liked Danny. He didn’t know me well enough to eye me with that kind of hunger. Even if he did, it was an innocent lust. I envied him that.

“Jason? Are you okay?” I realized then I was breathing like I was winded. I forced my breathing to slow down. I smiled. It was more of a baring of teeth than anything.

“Right as rain. I’ve got to get going. I need to go home.”
I need to get the hell away from you and your stupid hope
. I tried to pull out of Tommy’s embrace, but he wouldn’t release me. I glared. “Let me go.”

“Stop playing your games with me, Jason,” he said. I looked at him nose to nose. I wanted to hit him.

“I’m playing games? Fuck you.” I didn’t know what was happening. My emotions were fluctuating wildly. I was drowning in the veritable toilet bowl of my thoughts.

“I don’t want this to be just about fucking, Jason. I want this to be real. Not like me blowing you in a locker room. God. You are so jaded. Don’t you feel anything?” No, I didn’t. Didn’t he know my rep? I was fucking heartless.

Chapter Six

“
H
AVEN
’
T
you heard the things people say about me?” I asked nastily. I was going to stop this before it was too late. I had to stop falling in love with him.

“They’re not true,” Tommy said.

I laughed. “You sure about that?”
Say it
, I told myself.
Say the words that will make him leave you alone.
I knew what they were, if I could only choke them out. “What would your mom say about that?” I had actually said them. He froze, his gray eyes widening in pain. Predatory satisfaction shot through me, along with every ounce of disgust I’d ever felt.

“That was low. Even for you,” he whispered. I’d hurt him. I’d hurt him deeply. I wanted to beg his forgiveness. I wanted to say I was sorry and that I didn’t mean it. I wanted to say that I still loved him even after everything that had happened. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was a coward. I was a broken fuck doll with sightless eyes and no soul.

“I should go,” I said.

“You should apologize for talking shit about my mom,” he corrected. Why wasn’t he angry with me? Why wasn’t he pounding the shit out of me? Why wasn’t he punishing me for what I’d done?

“I’m sorry.” I said the words without thinking. He’d commanded and I’d obeyed. The “I’m sorry” had been thoughtless and beautiful and right. His kindness made me want to be better than I was, better than I ever thought I could be. The reason wasn’t really important. He was being nice to me, and that was all that mattered.

“God,” he whispered. “Who broke you?” I wasn’t just broken. I was ruined. Something that was ruined could not be fixed. Something this dirty could not be cleaned.