The First Three Rules (14 page)

Jon put the washcloth aside with the soap and made Ellis turn around. His eyebrows formed a V over his nose. “Ellis?”

He would have run if he thought he wouldn’t fall. But all he could do was say, “I don’t know.”

Jon’s expression crumbled. He cradled Ellis against his chest, and Ellis buried a sob against Jon’s shoulder..

“Ah, damn, I’m so sorry.” Jon kissed Ellis near his temple. “Shhh. It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” Jon petted the back of Ellis’s head.

There was nothing for Jon to be sorry for. It wasn’t his fault Ellis didn’t know about life beyond buying the groceries, paying the bills, and making sure Rudy was taken care of.

When the worst of the crying faded, his black eye throbbed and every inhale sounded like percolating coffee.

Then Jon picked up the washcloth. But his heated touch had turned clinical, leaving Ellis

amazed at how quickly a person could go from desired to unwanted.

Jon dried Ellis off and wrapped him in a towel. His gaze remained wide and hollow. Like he’d gone to some dark place inside his mind.

Wherever it was, Jon had put him there. Guilt made it hard for him to lift his head.

It never occurred to him Ellis might be inexperienced. Especially with the way he’d sucked the pizza sauce from his thumb. At first, Jon thought Ellis’s shyness held him back, then perhaps a need for someone else to be in charge. Or being purposely hesitant to make Jon work for it.

Then Ellis had said he didn’t know.

The tremor in his voice, the fear coating his words, told Jon exactly what Ellis meant.

It made sense. Ellis had been twelve when his parents died. Gilford wasn’t tiny, but it was small enough that it would make it difficult for a gay man to find a lover.

Jon wasn’t even sure if Maysville, located thirty miles south, was big enough to have a gay bar or, at least, known hangouts. And with Rudy there would be no way for Ellis to go anywhere alone.

Ellis went to the chest of drawers and got out a clean pair of underwear. For a long time he held them like he’d forgotten what they were. Jon resisted the urge to help him and put back on the pajama bottoms he’d borrowed. He left off the shirt because he was sure he’d rip out the seams if he moved the wrong way.

When he turned around, Ellis sat on the edge of the bed staring at his hands. The dark green pajamas he wore made him paler. “I’m sorry about that.”

Jon started to sit beside him but decided that wasn’t the best choice right now. “What are you sorry for?”

Ellis’s right shoulder went up and down. “Are you going to leave now?” He almost turned but only made it halfway.

“Do you want me to leave?”

The “No” was small but steady.

Hope flickered in Jon’s chest. Maybe he hadn’t completely ruined this. Ruined Ellis. He did not want another failure on his hands.

Again, Ellis nearly looked at him. “Please stay.”

Jon decided to risk it and sat. “Where do you want me to stay?”

“Here.” Ellis made a half hearted wave, indicating the other half of the bed. “Here. In here. If you want to. If you don’t…”

Jon laid his hand on the back of Ellis’s neck and worked his fingers against the tight muscles under his palm. Ellis dropped his arms into his lap.

“I should have asked you,” Jon said.

Ellis shook his head. Then he laughed. It sounded like it hurt. His expression suggested it did just that. “How could you know the closest I’ve ever come to having sex was the handful of trashy romance novels I’ve read? And you know, none of those were…” He made a rolling motion with his hand like he was stirring his thoughts.

“Two guys?”

He nodded. There was another long pause and then Ellis said, “I wish…”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish things were different, you know? I wish I had a life. I wish I had dreams.”

“And you don’t?”

“I used to. But now, there’s never any time.”

“Then we’ll make time.” Jon kissed Ellis on the side of his head.

After a moment or two, Ellis brought his gaze around. There was reluctant hope in his eyes.

“C’mon.” Jon moved over and slid under the blankets. “You want to get the light?”

Ellis turned it off, leaving the glow of the full moon to carve Jon’s silhouette with silver lines and paint the rest of the room in layers of gray. “What if I don’t want to sleep? What if…”

“There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.” And he didn’t want Ellis to do something he wasn’t ready for.

After a long moment Ellis climbed in next to Jon. He moved around like he wasn’t sure where to put his limbs. When he rolled over on his side and took up his usual position, Jon moved up behind him. Ellis didn’t pull away, so Jon slipped his arm around Ellis’s waist.

He touched Jon’s wrist, then Jon slid his fingers between Ellis’s. The action seemed to catch him off guard, then his grip tightened and he swiped his thumb back and forth over Jon’s hand.

After a while, Ellis fell still and the last bit of tension left his body in a sigh.

It had been a long time since Jon held anyone like this. Only, that wasn’t right. He’d never held anyone like this. He’d never held anyone so raw and open. Someone who wore every thought and worry like a frown or smile. Someone who could trust him after what he’d almost done, and then choose to let him stay, leaving himself vulnerable in Jon’s arms.

He promised himself he would not betray Ellis’s trust. He would not fail to keep him safe. It seemed ridiculous at first, but then Jon was still alive because now he had a reason to be.

But you don’t deserve to live.

Jon concentrated on the feel of Ellis in his arms.

Get the gun, put the barrel in your mouth, and pull the trigger
.

The single shot rang in Jon’s ear. A searing point smashed the roof of his mouth, burrowed through his skull, and shattered the back of his head.

In his mind, brain and blood fanned across the wall.

Barbs of guilt pierced his muscles and threatened to eat him up from the inside. If the pain didn’t kill him, the bleeding would. The only way to get rid of it would be to cut it out.

End it.

Only he didn’t want too. For the first time in almost a year, Jon did not want the void of nothing. He wanted this; warmth against his body, the smell of contentment on another person’s skin. The knowledge he was wanted—no, needed. It gave him purpose. It weakened the voice in his head from a booming thunder to a shriveled whine.

Jon didn’t have much to offer Ellis, but he would give it to him.

You don’t deserve this.

Maybe not, but he’d been numb for so long, and this…this was something he could feel.

Ellis shifted in his sleep. He no longer hugged himself as much as he held Jon’s arm over his ribs. Jon pressed his face to the back of Ellis’s neck. Locks of damp hair brushed Jon’s lips.

Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove?

Jon had no idea.

You’re nothing. No one. An empty shell.

He couldn’t argue. But maybe with Ellis, Jon could fill it?

The floor boards creaked and Ellis put his hand on the empty sheets beside him. They were still warm.

The grainy light of predawn filtered through the curtains, giving just enough light to reveal Jon standing at the end of the bed.

“Jon?”

He held his arms out in front with his fists curled and took a wide exaggerated step, almost losing his balance. Ellis turned on the bedside light.

Jon took another step, stopped, and then stared at the floor, with a pinched expression.

“What are you doing?” Ellis got out of bed.

“I’m stepping over the bodies.” He said it like a man pointing out the obvious. “I’ll never get the blood out of my shoes. I think they’re ruined.” He lowered his arm.

The hollow void in Jon’s eyes vanished. “What are you doing up?” He yawned. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Uh…” Ellis glanced at the bedroom door. “I was going to get up and make some coffee. Rudy will be up soon and I don’t want him to wander around the house.”

“I’ll get the coffee.” Jon scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Morning already?” He squinted at the window. “You rest. I’ll bring you a cup.”

“I’m tired of resting.” Ellis searched Jon’s face, but there was nothing left of whatever had possessed him.

“What’s that look for?” Jon put his hand under Ellis’s chin before he could drop his gaze. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

“Do you think you’d be up to making breakfast?”

Jon cocked his head. “That’s what you were thinking about?”

Ellis pulled away. “I’d really appreciate if you could. Rudy will just eat oatmeal but I’d like some eggs and I don’t quite trust myself yet around anything that requires fire.”

“Sure.”

At the top of the steps, Jon put an arm around Ellis’s ribs. “Let me help.”

“I’m okay enough to walk down.”

“Then indulge me.”

Ellis gripped the railing and let Jon lead him down the steps. Jon didn’t let go until they reached the dining room table.

“Eggs right?”

Ellis nodded.

“How many?” The fridge door rattled. From his seat, Ellis had an unobstructed view into the kitchen where Jon was bent over. The seam in his PJ’s threatened to snap right down the ass crack. He stood and Ellis whirled back around. “How many eggs?”

“Um, two…no wait, three…or maybe just one. I bought bacon the other day. If it didn’t ruin I’d like some of that.”

“The bacon was cured so it’s okay. The ice cream was toast though.”

“I expected that.” Ellis moved the salt and pepper shakers around on the table. The condiments in the fridge door rattled again. He risked a look over his shoulder.

Jon stood with his elbow propped on the door, grinning.

Ellis clenched his eyes shut and turned away.

“How about two eggs,” Jon said. “And a few strips of bacon.”

Dishes clanked and the cupboard doors opened and closed. There was a moment of water running.

“Does Rudy take milk in his oatmeal?”

“Just a little. Put some brown sugar in it too. It’s over the stove. Top shelf. He’d eat the stuff by the spoonful if I let him.” As if Jon needed to know that. Wanted to know it. Ellis bounced his legs and adjusted the napkins in the holder.

“So how are you feeling this morning?”

“What? Oh…fine.” He touched the set of butterfly stitches above his eyebrow.

“Do you need any more pain killers?”

“I’m good.”

“If it hurts, it’s okay to admit it.” That coming from a man who probably ate buckshot with his cereal.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Jon walked up and put a glass of water and two painkillers down in front of Ellis.

“I told you I’m okay.”

“Humor me.”

“I would if I knew any good jokes.”

Jon laughed as he went back into the kitchen. “Take the pills. Your eggs are almost done.” Glass on glass was followed by shifting metal. “Is there anything particular you need me to do today?”

“Like what?

“The usual house type things; laundry, sweeping, mopping.”

Was the house that bad? There were a few blades of dried grass by the back door and a spider web in the corner of the dining room, but it was passable. At least until he was able to do it himself. “Uh, no. Sometimes I take Rudy to the park when it’s nice, but he can wait.”

Ellis pulled a napkin from the dispenser and wiped down the faint dust marks left when he moved the salt and pepper shaker around.

“I didn’t mean to imply the house was dirty.” Jon set a plate of eggs down in front of Ellis.

“It’s not that…I just…” Ellis crushed the napkin in his hand.

Jon squeezed his shoulder and went back to making breakfast. “Do you like sugar and cream?”

Ellis cleared his throat. “Uh…I take both.”

Jon returned and put Ellis’s cup next to his plate.

“Is the coffee all right?” Jon said.

“It’s fine.”

“You haven’t tasted it.”

Ellis did. “It’s good. Thanks.”

Jon walked to the end of the table.

“Wait…” Ellis startled at his own voice. “I mean…” He pulled the chair out beside him. “Please sit…with me. If you don’t mind.”

Jon stayed where he was and Ellis stabbed at his eggs. Maybe Jon didn’t want to be around him. Was it because of what happened last night? It had to be.

Why did he have to chicken out?

Jon sat.

“Thank you,” Ellis said.

Jon smiled around the edge of his coffee cup.

Was this ever going to get easier? Ellis went back to assaulting his eggs.

“I met my end of the deal and made you breakfast, now you have to eat it.”

“Sorry.” He took a bite. “It’s good. Thanks.”

Jon set his coffee cup on the table and traced the rim with one of his fingers. The memory of his touch played over Ellis’s flesh. Would Jon want to try again?

And did Ellis want to?

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I…” Ellis pushed the plate away then pulled it back. “About that. This morning. Something…”

He took a sip coffee. “I didn’t really want breakfast, I just needed to talk to you.” He sagged. Why did things have to be so hard around Jon?

“I told you, it’s okay to wait.”

“No, not that.” Ellis’s cheeks burned. “This morning when I got up you were walking around the room and when I asked you what you were doing you said…” He took a breath. “You said you were stepping over the bodies. You said your shoes were ruined and you had your hand up. It looked like you were holding something.”

“A gun.” Jon put his elbows on the table and folded his hands. His forehead came to rest on his fists. “I’m sorry you saw that.”

“So, it’s happened before?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you sleepwalk a lot?”

“More than I’d like.”

“What are the nightmares about? I mean, they’re nightmares, right?”

“I think nightmares are a walk in the park compared to these.” Jon dropped his hands. “Remember how I told you I retired?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not exactly true.” Jon huffed a sigh. “I was listed as disabled and forced to retire.”

“Were you shot?”

“I had a nervous breakdown. On the day my partner needed me most, I cracked and I wasn’t there to help him. He died. A lot of people died.” Jon turned the coffee cup around a few times before he took a sip. “I was spared by the draft, only to wind up on the battle field in my own backyard. I have PTSD, at least that’s what the paperwork reads.”