Jesse threaded his earbuds up under the cap, clicked Precious’ leash in place, and locked the door behind him, slipping the single deadbolt key into the zippered pocket of his pants.
The sky was silver today, and the snow that had unexpectedly fallen last night after midnight stuck steadfastly to the ground and rooftops, even though it had disappeared off the sidewalks and roads.
He ran farther and faster than he had before. The music pounded in his ears, his feet beating the pavement into submission, and next to him Precious kept the same beat, the same long stride, and same steady rhythm of breath. He savored the burn of his muscles, pushing himself forward, skating the thin edges of his limits. Of his stamina. Of his sanity. Each mile brought him more clarity. A cold, transparent clarity that matched the biting winter air.
He wasn’t going to lose his job—not quite yet. But whether or not he kept it depended on the outcome of his trial. The media coverage, what little there had been so far, had told the story of a brother protecting his sister. It helped that Emily was small and blonde with wide eyes. It also helped that Ian had a criminal record that included a history of abuse against Emily and other women.
Jesse dreaded the scrutiny. For himself—he had too many secrets that needed to stay buried—but more for Emily. Her years of systematic torture at the hands of her father didn’t need to be known by anyone, let alone the public. The story had died down in the weeks after Emily’s attack—the twenty-four-hour news cycle moving on to the next big, bloody controversial thing—but the start of his trial would reignite interest. There was no doubt about it.
His attorney had warned him to be ready.
The only way he was going to be prepared was if he kept himself sober and sane. To slide into the abyss was way more tempting than he wanted to give credence to. But he wouldn’t. Giving up on his sobriety was a betrayal of everyone who loved him and continued to support him despite the horrific things he’d done.
If nothing else, they deserved more from him.
Chuck’s words had been ricocheting around his head since Chuck had walked out of his door weeks ago. You need to do it for yourself. It wasn’t lost on him that his therapist had given him the same message.
That was easy for them to say and, Jesse had thought, nearly impossible for him to do.
But what did he have to fear more—success or failure? What happened if he didn’t get better? Or what happened if he crawled out of his hole, did the hard work, and actually made himself proud?
That answer was easy.
So Jesse ran.
He had three months until the Brighton Marathon. He didn’t know if it was too late to get a spot in the actual race, but it really didn’t matter if he actually ended up there or not. Jesse was going to run that marathon—in Brighton, in Kensington, or in jail if he had to. He was going to do all twenty-six point two miles.
That gave him three months to do something for himself.
For Emily.
And also for Chuck. Whether the man wanted it or not.
Jesse sucked in a deep breath and picked up his pace.
February
Chuck furrowed his brow as Ryan walked into the club and immediately headed for Kam’s office.
It was the first time Chuck had seen any of the Kensington boys at the club in weeks. Between everything with Jesse and the depths of a winter that was ending up grayer and colder than expected, it seemed as if most of the city had gone into hibernation mode, not just the boys. Chuck resisted the urge to hide away as much as he could, spending more and more time at the club, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Ryan showing up here meant that something had shifted.
That wasn’t information for him to be privy to anymore, though.
He pushed all thoughts of Jesse aside and refocused on the weight training regimen they’d implemented at the gym this week because of new equipment. He lost track of time ensuring that he captured all the kids at some point in their routine, and that he didn’t get in their way in the process. When he finally stepped aside, almost an hour had passed and the gym would be closing soon. He flipped back through the pictures and froze, scowling at his camera screen and forcing himself not to delete the picture he’d landed on.
At some point, Kam and Ryan had made their way back into the gym, and he’d caught Kam mid-laugh, his arms crossed and head thrown back as Ryan leaned forward, gripping Kam’s bicep and a genuine smile on his lips. The kids and coaches fuzzed into a background of camaraderie and hard work.
It was one of the best pictures he’d ever taken of Kam, but Ryan’s presence in the frame made his finger twitch over the delete button.
While Ryan hadn’t thrown any other slurs in his direction since that first night, he hadn’t really spoken to Chuck at all. And tolerance didn’t equal acceptance.
But maybe spending time in this club could help bring on a change for Ryan.
He’d seen it over and over again on the faces of potential funders in the last five months. When anyone spent time watching and really listening to the kids, they walked out of here with more confident posture and wider eyes—as if they really were seeing the world in a whole new light.
These kids were inspiration personified.
All he could think about was Jesse when one of the kids said or did something spectacular. He wanted to share everything he was learning with Jesse. He wished Jesse could see these kids and learn from them too. Fear didn’t stop them, because it had existed as part of their world since the beginning. It was a constant rather than a threat. Chuck had initially thought that would’ve made them harsher and uncaring, but, instead, their innate fear came with a countering surety that they would survive—no matter what.
At thirty-three years old and after dozens of tattoo sessions, that was a lesson Chuck was just starting to learn.
“Excuse me, Mr. Dunn. You got a minute?”
Ashton’s voice broke Chuck out his introspective funk. He kept the picture of Kam and Ryan and focused on the scrawny kid who was almost eye level with him. “Yeah, Ash. What’s up?”
“Can we…. Can we talk?”—he motioned around the gym—“Somewhere else?”
“Let’s take Kam’s office.”
Chuck led Ashton back to the office and gestured for him to take a seat. He surveyed the hallway and made sure they had privacy but kept the door open. He took a seat facing the hallway so he could see if anyone came by.
“What’s going on, Ash?”
Ashton crossed and uncrossed his legs, finally settling forward with his arms braced on the chair. “Coach Kam said I could talk to you. That you might be able to, um, help.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll help however I can.”
“I think….” He stitched his eyebrows together, then lifted his chin to look Chuck directly in the eye. “Are you gay? I mean, Coach Kam said you would be someone I could talk to and I didn’t think you…. But maybe. I’m sorry, Mr. Dunn, that was really rude.”
“It’s okay, Ash. Yes, I’m gay. I’ve been out for a long time so Kam isn’t spilling any of my secrets.”
“That’s good. I’m sorry. I don’t mean any disrespect.”
“None taken. Tell me what’s going on up there.”
“I think I might be gay.”
Chuck tried to contain his reaction in the enormity of the moment. He remembered the first time those words had crossed his lips. How it had been almost physically painful to say them out loud because speaking them gave them power. And Ashton was trusting him enough to put that pain and hope in his hands and help him find the form in it.
Chuck chose his response carefully. He knew even one wrong word could send Ashton running when he needed understanding. There was a question in his eyes, a fear that Chuck understood at a visceral level. He sat forward in his chair and kept his eyes locked to Ashton’s. “That was scary as shit to say, wasn’t it?”
Ashton broke into a nervous laugh, the set of his shoulders easing. “Yeah.”
“I’ve been t
here. You have to give yourself room and time to think about it. It’s okay to do that.”
“I don’t think I need time. I’m pretty damn sure I’m gay. Sorry. I’m pretty darn sure I’m gay.”
Chuck snorted. All the kids attempted—and failed on a regular basis—to curb their language in the gym, an insistence of Kam’s. “All right then. What do you need from Coach Kam and me? We’ll support you no matter what. I hope you know that.”
“I think I do. Now, I mean. I think I can trust you.”
“You can. Are you worried about the other kids in the club?”
Ashton shook his head. “Not really, but kinda. More the kids at school and in the neighborhood. They don’t know for sure, but there are rumors….”
Chuck ground his jaw. “Has anyone tried to hurt you, Ash?”
“They’re just words, Mr. Dunn. I know that.”
“Sometimes those can cut just as deep as a physical wound.”
Ashton bit at his lip, nodding.
Chuck took a deep breath. “You’re already aware of prejudice and I’m not going to lie and tell you that being a gay man is easy. You have to hold onto your strength and know your heart. You’re a strong kid and you’re doing right by yourself. You keep working hard and we—Coach Kam and me—will do everything we can to help fit the other pieces together with you.”
Ashton tapped his fingers against the armrest. “I think I might want to tell some of the guys here.”
“Then that’s your choice when you’re ready. You tell us and we’ll do what’s most comfortable for you. Listen. Take my cell number. You ever need to talk—about anything—call or text me.” Chuck took one of Kam’s business cards and scrawled his cell number on the back.
Ashton flipped the card nervously in his hands. “Thanks.”
“It’s going to be okay, Ash. Believe me. Not easy, but eventually okay. You have a ride home?”
Ashton nodded. “My mom.”
“Does she know?”
“She’s not aware of me most days. Too busy with work.”
Chuck’s chest constricted. He and Ashton had completely different upbringings, and yet their societal differences didn’t change the dynamic of being a lost child, begging for the attention of the people who were supposed to love them the most in this world. “I’m aware of you every day. So is Coach Kam.” He pointed at the business card. “Call or text me anytime. I mean it.”
“Ash! Your mom’s here!” a voice called from the gym.
“At least she remembered me today.” Ashton gave a sad smile. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Dunn.”
Chuck bumped his knuckles against Ashton’s outstretched fist.
Kam stepped into the office as Ashton exited. He glanced into the hallway then shut the door behind him. “We got a problem?”
Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Far from it. What made you think so?”
“That’s the most scared I’ve ever seen that kid.”
“He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”
“Are you okay? Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up, but Ash kind of came out of nowhere.” Kam grimaced. “God, I totally didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
Chuck smirked. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him—it’s not going to be easy for him, but it will be okay. And I told him that you and I have his back. I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous.”
“It’s cool.”
Chuck eased back and slung his arm over the back of the chair. “You know that you and I have never actually talked about me being gay.”
Kam arched an eyebrow. “Is that a conversation we need to have?”
“Hell no. I’m just surprised you sent Ash my way since we haven’t talked about it.”
Kam sank down into the chair across from him. “Well, everything was kind of confirmed by Jesse. You know, when he was in jail.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s never bothered you, though?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Chuck.”
“And Jesse?” Chuck pressed.
“What about him?”
“Does it bother you that Jesse might not be straight?”
Kam leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. He looked as if he was reining in his anger. “Did you hear me say don’t be an idiot? Jesse is my best friend and a Kensington boy. I’ll stand by him no matter what. That’s the only story that matters.”
Chuck wasn’t surprised by Kam’s answer, but he hadn’t been prepared for that strong of a reaction. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
Kam ran his hand over his mouth, then eased back into his chair. “Let me tell you something, Chuck. I know you didn’t spend too much time with the boys before”—he waved his hands—“whatever happened. But Kensington boys don’t turn their backs on one another. Ever.”
“Jesse doesn’t seem to think that’s true.”
“Yeah, well he also thought that pulverizing his sister’s husband’s face was a good idea.”
Chuck frowned. He wished Jesse would think about having this type of conversation with Kam—that Jesse could’ve found the strength to do it before “whatever” happened and he’d fucked over his life. “The trial starts next week, right?”
“Monday. It should last two to three days max. Ryan just let me know that the prosecution brought him an offer for a lowered sentence and he refused to take it.”
Chuck tapped the pen in his hand on his thigh. “They’re never going to acquit him.”
“That’s not the point anymore,” Kam said. “Not for Jesse and not for his sister. They want everyone to know that what happened to Emily is not okay. Jesse’s ready to take his punishment. The best we can hope for is leniency from the judge during sentencing since the jury is going to have to find him guilty. Self-defense doesn’t stack up when you drive to the man’s house then pummel his face in even though you weigh almost twice what he does.”
“Jesus, he’s going to jail for this.”
“I don’t see any other outcome,” Kam said, his voice going soft—ragged.
“Do you think I should call him?”
Kam glared at him, then grabbed the pen out of Chuck’s hand and set it on the desk. “No offense, Chuck, but fuck no. He’s getting his shit together. He’s more of a man now than he has ever been. And that’s partially because you walked away from him. I like you, but I love Jesse and I want to see him get well. Getting back together with you right now would probably make him regress twenty years.”
“What the fuck—” Chuck started to protest, but Kam cut him off.
“If you haven’t noticed, us Kensington boys like to be coddled. Give us an inch and we’ll take the whole continent. We know how to work the system to our benefit. Out of all the Kensington marriages, the ones I can see lasting are the ones where the wife is willing to walk away if there are any shenanigans.”
Chuck wasn’t following. He and Jesse were over, and, “I did walk away.”
“But Jesse’s eyes aren’t open enough yet for him to realize why you had to do that, let alone what he has to change to never be that awful to you—or himself—ever again. You two get back together now, and it won’t work. Believe me. I’ve seen this pattern too many times with too many of the boys—even me.”
“I just asked about calling him,” he defended. “Not getting back together with him.”
Kam tipped his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.
Chuck huffed. “Am I really that transparent?”
“You didn’t use to be. You were so closed off that I couldn’t figure you out for a long time. But this last month I’ve been watching you and you’re changing too. The way you interact with the coaches and the kids is different than it was in the beginning. You’re opening yourself up to all of them finally. The kids notice that stuff, Chuck. Before, you were an outsider they had to deal with, now these kids consider you another mentor. Look at Ash. Five months ago, if I’d suggested he come talk to you he would’ve laughed in my face. I don’t know if you and Jesse will e
nd up back together, but maybe that doesn’t really matter. You came into each other’s lives at a point where you needed the other person. Like a catalyst—mix, stir, and see what pops. The reaction may be explosive, it may fizzle, but both chemicals will be altered in the process.” Kam chuckled. “Sorry, I used to teach Chemistry before this gig. Does any of this shit make sense?”
Chuck let out a long breath. “Way too much.”
Kam slapped his thighs and stood up. “Well. This has been fun. Ryan and I are heading to the bar now to meet up with some of the other boys. Do you want to go get a beer and not talk to each other at all while we watch football?”
If it had just been him and Ryan, Chuck would’ve politely refused. But with the addition of others, maybe even Matt and Danny, he didn’t want to say no. “I’m in.”
“I’m going to make sure all the kids make it home. See you at McLoughlin’s in thirty?”
Chuck started for the door. “I’ll be there.”
“And, Chuck? I know you didn’t ask, but Jesse won’t be there. The trial, bond, recovery, and all…. I figured you’d want to know.”
“Thanks.”
Chuck gathered up his equipment and said goodbye to the coaches as they cleaned up the gym from the training session. He climbed into his truck and turned toward McLoughlin’s for the first time in almost two months—now officially longer than he’d been with Jesse. And yet it was strange to know he would be there and not see Jesse.
He twisted Kam’s words around in his head, examining them. That Jesse was most likely going to jail didn’t surprise him, but he was surprised at the churning sense of unfairness that settled into his gut.
The more time he spent apart from Jesse and had time to think over the weeks they’d spent together, the more he was sure that Jesse was a good guy with a dark streak. A dark streak dangerously aggravated by alcohol and self-directed anger. But if he was getting help—like Kam had said—then Chuck didn’t doubt that Jesse would be okay someday.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be around to see that day.
16
Out of the Shade Page 19
