The Arrangement (19 page)

Carter opened his laptop and attempted to work on the new Chop to It account, but his mind refused to concentrate on salads and juices. How could it, when he wondered what Reed was doing tonight and if he had started seeing someone else yet. The thought of someone else touching him, never mind fucking him, nearly blinded him with a wave of pain so strong he physically felt it in his chest. The screen blurred before his eyes, and he wanted to throw up. What the fuck was wrong with him? It had never been difficult to walk away from any other man without a second thought. But Reed was nothing like any other man.

Different from his usual pick-ups, Reed had neither the swagger of the sexually confident serial clubber nor the polished appearance of the urbane, Upper East Side sophisticate Carter typically bedded. But none set his blood on fire like Reed did, his sleepy golden eyes heavy with lust as he took Carter deep inside his body, or gazing up at him from his knees while he sucked Carter off, his glistening lips wrapped around Carter’s cock.

What Reed had said to him in his office was the truth: Reed was by far a better man than Carter and much less of a coward. But fuck it, he had reasons. Reed couldn’t know the fruits of Carter’s three-year-long journey sat in front of a computer tonight having the time of his life. None of that would have been accomplished if Carter hadn’t been there every step of the way, being there for Jacks, protecting him, and always loving him.

Jacks’s brilliant smile alone made every sacrifice worthwhile.

An hour later, Carter shut his laptop and stretched. “Okay, buddy boy, time for bed.”

Usually amiable, Jacks scowled. “Not yet. I’m still playing.”

Remembering what Jacks’s doctor and Helen had said, that defiance was normal and even good for Jacks, Carter remained firm yet calm. “It’s a school night, and we both need to get some sleep. Say good night, and you’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

Jacks stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “We were in the middle of something.”

The full conversations he and Jacks now had disconcerted Carter a bit; Jacks had gone from mostly silent and agreeable to talkative and recalcitrant. Carter understood testing limits came naturally to a child and wondered if this was a precursor to the rebellious teenage years. He gazed longingly at his liquor cabinet.

“I said now. Let’s go. It’s already past nine, and you should’ve been in bed already. Shut it down yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

They glared at each other for a second; then Jacks relented and slowly typed out a message to one of his friends and powered the computer off. Without a word, he stood and walked away.

“I hope you aren’t mad at me, but if you’re going to start using the computer, we’ll need to set some house rules for its use.” Carter followed Jacks up the stairs and to the bathroom, where Jacks wordlessly took his toothbrush and began to brush his teeth.

“I’m glad you’re making friends, Jacks, but I’m not going to let them change our schedule and way of doing things around here.” Carter sat on the edge of the bathtub while Jacks spit and rinsed his mouth, then washed his face and hands. “We can adjust things, but that doesn’t mean you get to decide how and when you do your homework and therapy and go to bed.”

“Everyone else goes to bed later; why can’t I? I’m going to be eleven soon.”

The doctor had told him Jacks’s independence day would come, but living it far exceeded the anticipation.

“We haven’t really talked much about these new friends of yours. You’re having fun, right?”

The smile lighting up Jacks’s face told Carter everything he needed to know, yet he wanted to hear the words from his brother’s lips.

“So much fun. Henry’s my best friend.” Jacks turned to meet his eyes. “And he said I was his yesterday at school.” He bit his lip. “I never thought I’d have any friends, ’cause I’m so short and didn’t talk a lot.”

Everything Carter had worked for these past three years couldn’t have prepared him for this moment. It was like a punch in his stomach to hear his brother’s voice, still somewhat babyish yet struggling to find its strength.

“What made you start talking?”

“I wanted to make friends. I wanted the kids to like me.”

All along, Carter had been living a lie because he claimed to never be swayed in matters of the heart. But listening to Jacks talk proved him wrong. The pain in his chest could only be caused by his heart breaking.

“So you always could talk, you chose not to, huh?”

After a split-second hesitation, Jacks nodded.

“Why, buddy? Do you feel like you can tell me?” Carter didn’t want to push, but he wanted to know.

Jacks didn’t answer for a moment. “Cause Mommy said I shouldn’t. I was really sick when I was little and missed lots of school. She’d get so mad at me when she had to take me to the doctor all the time and get my medicine. Lots of time she forgot and then would get mad when I’d get really sick and have to go to the hospital.”

Spots danced before his eyes; only then did Carter remembered to breathe.

Jacks continued in a monotone voice. “She told me I was too much trouble and to shut up, that no one wanted to hear me complaining if I didn’t feel good, especially her boyfriends.” His voice got small and tight, as if he fought not to cry and it took all of Carter’s fortitude not to hug him close and make the pain go away. Instead he continued to listen to Jacks’s poignant story.

“We moved so much and I used to get scared going to new schools, but she and her boyfriends would make fun of me. When I stopped talking, she stopped yelling at me, so I figured it was better that way. After a while, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. None of the kids I ever went to school liked me anyway so it didn’t matter.”

“But,” Carter prodded gently, “how come you didn’t start talking when you came to live with me?”

When several seconds ticked by and he didn’t answer, Carter squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Mommy said I shouldn’t. That if I was loud or got in your way…” Jacks’s voice trailed off and he traced the drops of water in the sink with his fingertip.

“What?” said Carter. “I won’t get mad, promise.”

“She said you’d get mad and send me away to live with a strange family.”

Goddamn her.

“Even after all this time you think that?” Shocked, Carter turned Jacks around to face him. “You know I love you, don’t you? I love you more than anything. More than myself.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that at first. You were always tired and upset, so I stayed quiet. I wanted to stay so bad but I didn’t know you. So I didn’t talk. I was used to it, so it was easy.”

Taking a deep breath, Carter took a moment to gather his thoughts.
Easy now. This could mean everything.

“Oh buddy, you can be as loud as you want, if you keep talking. Don’t hide how you feel from me. You can tell me anything.”

He hugged Jacks close, loving the little boy smell of him.

Jacks gave him a hug back, then unzipped his jeans. “I have to pee.”

“I’ll be in your bedroom with your pajamas.” Carter hurried out of the bathroom to Jacks’s room and smiled when he saw Helen had already set out a pair of pajamas for Jacks. He heard the toilet flush and the water in the sink run and thanked God he ingrained proper hygiene practices in Jacks. Watching Jacks dragging his feet as he entered the bedroom, Carter bit back a smile. God, he loved this kid so much.

“Here you go, buddy.”

“Thanks.” Jacks took off his clothes and put them in the hamper at the foot of his bed, then slipped on his pajamas. Carter noted he still had the skinny, wiry frame of a little boy and recalled the physician making a point at his last checkup that a bone-age test should be done to see if Jacks was delayed in that respect. Before he forgot, he pulled out his phone to make a note, then slipped it back in his pocket.

Jacks had already climbed into bed and lay snuggled in the pillows, his eyelids drooping, half-lidded with impending sleep. “Henry asked me again if I could sleep over this weekend. He’s having a party, and I really wanna go. Please, can I, Carter? I promise to go to bed on time from now on.”

Despite knowing it would be good for him, Carter still hesitated but couldn’t pinpoint why. Was he afraid of letting go because it meant possible hurt for Jacks, or was he being selfish to try and keep Jacks close to stave off his own inevitable loneliness when Jacks was gone?

“Please?”

Resistance proved futile under that sweet pleading.

“Okay. Tell Henry tomorrow you can go. I’ll bring you over on Saturday.”

Jacks flung back the bedcovers and hurtled himself in Carter’s arms. “Thank you. I love you.”

Dazed and holding back tears, Carter hugged Jacks tight. “I love you too, buddy. So, so much.”

*     *     *

It felt strange
to be without Jacks on a Saturday evening. He’d dropped him off around lunchtime and made sure to speak with Michelle, Henry’s mother, about his medication and gave her his cell phone number.

“Don’t hesitate; if you need to call me, it doesn’t matter what time.”

“Don’t worry, Carter. Go have fun with your boyfriend.” She gave him a wink. “Maybe you can have a sleepover too.”

“We broke up.” Damn. What was it about this woman that he kept revealing pieces of himself to her?

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, that offer to fix you up with my brother still stands.”

“Thanks, but—”

“You miss your boyfriend. I saw how much you cared about him when you mentioned him weeks ago. It showed in your eyes. Well,” she said with an impish smile, “now you have the whole weekend to try and get him back. If that’s what you want.”

He had no fucking clue what he wanted anymore.

Carter spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Michelle’s words run through his mind. Giving up all pretense of finishing the work he brought home on Friday specifically to keep him busy on Saturday night, Carter vacillated between going to Reed’s bar, plunking himself down and refusing to move until they talked it all out, or downing the bottle of vodka staring at him from atop his liquor cabinet and passing out on the sofa.

“Fuck it,” he said and grabbed his leather jacket. Before he could change his mind he shoved his keys and phone in his pocket and ran out the door, hearing the lock click behind him. He walked the two blocks to where the stores were and only had to wait a few minutes before a cab came by with its light on.

“52nd and Seventh,” he told the driver, and the cab sped off. Traffic was a bitch as usual, especially getting through the mess in downtown Brooklyn, but soon they were over the Brooklyn Bridge and heading north on the West Side Highway. For about the tenth time Carter checked his watch and saw the time hadn’t moved much past the last time he looked at it. Still not yet eleven p.m., and Saturday night in the city barely got its feet wet to party at this time. He wondered how Jacks was doing and checked his messages. The last picture he’d gotten was all the boys in the basement, having pizza and ice cream.

Jacks looked so happy Carter’s heart squeezed. Never having had this as a child himself, it was what he worked so hard for these three years to accomplish. Still, he couldn’t help but worry, and the fact Michelle sent updates every hour made him her number one fan for life, even with her well-intentioned nosiness.

Forty-five minutes later the cab pulled up in front of Reed’s bar. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Carter swiped his credit card and slammed the car door behind him. For a moment he stood on the sidewalk gathering his wits, heedless of the annoyed glares from the passing crowd, getting bumped by various elbows. What was he thinking? He had no right to come here when he wasn’t any more certain things had changed from the last time he saw Reed. Yet that didn’t stop him from walking in and pushing his way through the crowd until he reached the bar and spied Reed chatting up a good-looking man drinking a beer from an iced glass.

Fucking poser. He ground his teeth and sidled up next to the preppy douche who, from the smirk on his face, thought he had Reed in the bag.

Think again, asshole.

“Hi.” He leaned on the bar. “Can I have my usual?”

“He’s talking to me. Wait your turn.”

Carter flicked his gaze over the man as if he were nothing more than an annoying fly. “I wasn’t speaking to you; I was talking to Reed.” He turned his attention back to Reed who hadn’t moved and stood staring at him, white-faced and trembling. “I really want to talk to you. Can we…later?”

“Wha-what are you doing here?” Reed gulped out his words. His hands nervously played through the thick strands of his hair, and Carter wanted to bury his fingers in those curls.

Fuck, he had it bad.

“Things have…changed, and I needed to see you.” By this time the other guy had lost interest and walked away with his drink. “I have tonight free and tomorrow too.”

“So you came here thinking I’ll go to bed with you because you made time for me one night?” Reed’s mouth was set in a stubborn line, and a muscle ticked beneath the fine stubble covering his jawline. Carter recalled its roughness against his stomach, the hot, wet suction of Reed’s mouth sliding up and down his cock, and his hunger for Reed had Carter throbbing painfully in his jeans. He discreetly pressed the heel of his hand against the zipper, welcoming the painful yet arousing burst of pleasure.

“No, I’ve been thinking about what you said in my office, and you were right.”

Never one to make it easy for him, Reed crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Go on. I don’t have all night. I have work to do.”

The other bartender glanced their way, frazzled by the crowd. Carter didn’t wish for either Reed or the other man to get in trouble. “I’d rather talk to you alone, so if you want, I’ll wait for your shift to finish.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be best. I get off at one.”

“I have no other plans.”

With a troubled glance, Reed went back to serving the people while Carter stayed at the bar, sipping the drink Reed eventually placed in front of him. Carter spoke to no one and nibbled at the dish of peanuts and pretzels to stave off his hunger. With all the excitement over Jacks’s first sleepover, he’d forgotten to eat dinner himself. He wondered if he could order something at the bar.