by Nicki Rowe
He shrugs. “Where you been anyway?”
“Ran into Gideon.”
“Ah,” he leans back and closes his eyes, “the pretty vet.”
I stay silent and drink the rest of his beer. We’re silent for a long time, the TV is the only sound in the room for a good hour. Eventually Cason pushes up from the couch and stretches.
“I’m going to bed, man. Lock up for me?”
“Sure, Case.”
He nods and goes down the hall, supporting himself along the walls. I stand and go to the couch after locking the door, and pull the blanket over my body. I hate that after all these years Cason is still hurting. I wish I could go back and keep my unit from entering that humvee, I wish it could have been me that had suffered the most, instead of Case and the others. But no amount of wishing and guilt can make that happen.
Eventually, sleep claims me and I fall into a light, fitful sleep full of nightmares.
~ ~ ~
I wake up to find Cason sitting in the armchair, dressed and holding a coffee. He seems in better spirits this morning, he’s smiling and there isn’t a hint of a hangover, despite having drank four and a half beers the night before.
“Hey, man, time to go.”
“Do I even get to shower first?”
He leans back, crossing his ankle over the knee of his prosthetic. He’s dressed in a faded tee and jeans with hiking boots. “Sure, but if you aren't’ ready in twenty minutes than I am leaving without your ass.”
I flip him off before padding down the hall to the small guest bathroom, stopping at my duffle to grab clean clothes along the way. I shower and change quickly, and when I come back into the living room I find Cason piling bags, a tent and other camping gear into the back of his old Tacoma.
“Get a move on, old man!” He hollers as he straps a tarp over the gear. “Daylight’s burning!”
“How?” I ask, stepping out of the house with the bags that wouldn’t fit into the bed of the truck. “How are you so cheerful this morning? Did you take uppers?”
“Har har, Wal, you’re so funny.”
I chuckle. “Sam’s coming to pick up my bike, but we can go. He should be here in a few minutes.”
“You sure the kids are going to be fine while we’re gone?”
I chuckle, remembering when Cason had first started calling the employees at OMS our kids. Doris had always gotten a kick out of it. “They’ll be fine. They run things every year, and they haven’t blown anything up yet.”
“I hate that we’re leaving Mike right now.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck and lean against the truck to look at him. He’s looking up at the sky, his eyes hidden behind aviators. “Do you not want to go? You’re probably right, it’s not a good time to leave.”
He looks back at me and runs a hand over the short light bristles on the top of his head. “Nah, I’m just worried about Mike, but they’ll be fine. There’s still cell reception at the campgrounds, Sammy will call us if anything is wrong.”
“Okay.” I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. “Let’s get this very much deserved vacation on the road.”
Cason chuckles and slides behind the wheel; the old truck starts with a cough and then a roar. “So, Wal, tell me about this pretty vet. What’s going on with you guys?”
I look out at the passing houses, but don’t answer. I can’t explain the feeling I have about Gideon, especially after only playing one scene with him, but I’m very excited to see where this thing was headed.
Chapter 9: Gideon
I look up from my phone, the message from Wally glaring back at me.
Can’t wait until you return.
I spent most of my trip with Cason thinking about our next scene.
Wally had sent the message right before I had gotten on the plane to head to Baltimore. Now, I’m sitting in my old bedroom on a four poster bed where I had spent most of my teenage years dreaming about my crushes and becoming a vet, but the room feels cold, isolated. There are no touches of my childhood in here anymore: the books on the shelf had been replaced with leather bound hardbacks no one has any intention of reading; the furniture is the same, but it doesn’t hold the same warm feelings it had held when I was growing up; the trunk at the end of the bed no longer holds my toys or trinkets, now it holds blankets and pillows.
I don’t know when this big room--which was nearly double the size my apartment in Seattle--had stopped feeling like my sanctuary. When I was younger this room was the only place in the house I felt safe from my parents’ disappointment. Now, it’s just cold and empty.
I pick up my phone and type out a response.
What do you have planned?
I set my phone on the king sized mattress next to me and lay back to stare at the wooden beams above. I glance over when I hear the heavy wood door open, and smile when my sister comes in.
Amber is the smartest of the three of us, she graduated a year early, but doesn’t have much drive for anything more than fashion. She wants to be a designer, even when she was little, a seven-year-old with blond braids and missing teeth, she had been inspired by Vera Wang and Alexander McQueen. She has pin straight hair and the same dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. The only difference between her and I are the color of her eyes, they’re brown like our mother’s. She’s dressed in a short Burberry skirt and a white blouse, her silver locket hangs just above the top button of her blouse. I had given the necklace to her for her sixteenth birthday, and she’s worn it everyday since.
“Mom said you were up here sulking,” she says as she crawls on the bed next to me. She sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “Are you sulking?”
“Not sulking.” I turn my head and look back up at the ceiling. “Just staying out of the way.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “I’m so excited to come live with you in Seattle! I never had plans to go to New York, even if it has the best fashion design school. I want to do things for myself, and I feel like if I enter than it will because Mother and Father know the dean.”
I look at her. Her eyes are big and bright, and for a brief moment I am reminded of her as the little girl that followed me around the yard as I kicked around a soccer ball.
When had she grown into this young woman? I think to myself. “What do you plan on doing in Seattle?”
She shrugs. “I have a lot of money saved, I copied you and asked Aunt Noreen to help me open my own bank account, but I was thinking I could go to school up there and get a job. I just don’t want to live the life Mother and Father picked out for me.”
“I understand that, Ames. It’s why I went to Boston.”
The door opens and Benjamin enters. I frown at the sight of my brother dressed in his high end suit with his blond hair slicked into place with too much product, but I do take a certain satisfaction at seeing the bags under his eyes.
“Hello, Benji,” I greet. His face pinches even more at the nickname. “What can we do for you?”
Benjamin straightens his tie and looks at Amber and me with an air of authority and pretension. “Mother and Father request your company.”
I roll my eyes and Amber giggles. “Why?”
Benjamin’s face pinches even more. “As it is the last night Amber will be in the estate, they wish to spend the evening with their daughter.”
I hate it when Benjamin calls the house ‘The Estate’. I also hate it that Benjamin and I look so much alike, that people often mistake us for twins despite the fact that he’s three years older.
I look at Amber. “What do you think, Ames? Should we grace Mother and Father with our presence?”
Amber, who has always delighted at the tension between Benjamin and me, sits up and pulls me from the bed. “I think we should, brother, before Benji blows a blood vessel.”
Benjamin huffs. “You two are incorrigible. I am going to be glad when this weekend is over and the two of you go to Seattle.”
Amber skips over to Benjamin and kisses his cheek. His
features smooth out, he can never stay mad at Amber for longer than five minutes at a time. Though, Benjamin and I never get along, I have never wanted Amber to feel like she’s had to choose between us. I have always wanted Amber to choose her own path, whether it was to follow the family or go her own way. Secretly, I’m glad she went with the latter.
The three of us descend the grand staircase and head into the large formal dining room, where we find our mother and father are already sitting at the table. Mother is dressed in her usual attire of semi-formal dress with pearls and Father is in a suit and tie, and his thinning hair is combed over to hide the bald spots.
Myrtle, our maid, is already serving dinner. All weekend I have been subjected to dinners where my parents poke and prod at my lifestyle--not me being bi, they never mention that--but about the fact that I’m living in a modestly sized apartment in Seattle and making an average salary. They had been appalled when I told them about buying Paws and Whiskers, but even more appalled when Myrtle had complimented my shirt and I told her I had gotten it at Target.
I play with the braided cuff on my wrist, the supple leather providing me with a sense of security. I liked having something around me that I could touch when I was feeling anxious, which was usually all the time when I’m in Baltimore.
“Son, I wish you would put more effort into your appearance,” my mother gripes before I even have a chance to sit down.
I look down at the polka dot printed shirt and my mint green chinos. I was wearing brown loafers and had even styled my hair to match Benjamin’s. I tried to put as much effort into looking the way my parents wanted without changing who I was.
“These are the nicest clothes I own, Mother.”
She looks up with a upturned nose, and her eyes glassy from whatever number of pills she had taken throughout the day. “Maybe you should invest in some better clothes, Gideon. I’m sure you can find a decent dinner jacket on your . . . salary.”
“Thanks for the subtle dig, Mother,” I grumble, mentally reminding myself that I only need to endure twelve more hours of this torture. “How are things at work, Father?”
He barely looks up from the paper his nose is buried in. “We just purchased the St. Ellis Distillery in Birmingham.” My father glances up from the paper long enough to ask, “Would I be able to persuade you to run things in Alabama, Gideon?”
“Hell, no.”
“Watch your mouth,” my mother says coldly.
I roll my eyes and Amber giggles.
“Oh!” Our mother proclaims as if this thought just came to her. I brace myself for what is to come, all of my mother’s matchmaking schemes start with a ‘Oh!’ “Annabeth Murphy from down the lane--you remember her? Long hair, kind of plump--just broke up with her boyfriend of seven years.” She smiles at me, it’s the only time my mother ever smiles at me. “I told her you were single--”
“How do you know I’m single, Mother? You never even asked.”
“Are you seeing someone?” Amber asks, spooning soup into her mouth. “You didn’t tell me!”
“It’s nothing official,” I say into my soup, aware that everyone in my family is looking at me. “We’ve only hung out once,” there’s no way I’m telling my family anything more than that, “but we’ve been talking every day since.”
“What’s her name?” my mother asks.
Again, I talk to my soup, it’s less judgy then my family. I hate that being back home makes me feel like a child. “Walter, but he goes by Wally.”
Mother clears her throat. “Myrtle, I think it’s time for the next course.” The table is quiet for a long time. Myrtle comes back with our lamb and potatoes before my mother speaks again. “I’m going to give Annabeth your number.”
I sink into my chair. I can’t bring myself to argue with her, this night has already been painful enough.
Amber leans across the table and whispers, “I think it’s great you found someone, Giddy.”
I smile. “Thanks, Ames.”
We tuck into our dinner, all of us quiet and lost in our own thoughts, except for Amber who talks endlessly about how excited she is to move to Seattle. I can’t help but smile at her, she has always been the peacekeeper in the family.
~ ~ ~
The plane ride back to Seattle is better than the one to Baltimore, especially with Amber talking my ear off, even when we land Amber’s still droning on about the difference between Baltimore and Seattle, and airplane food.
“Ames,” I finally say as the Uber pulls into my neighborhood, “I love you, but if you don’t shut up, I am going to stitch your mouth shut.”
She swats at my arm. “Rude! Anyway, so I was totally thinking they should give more than just peanuts on a flight that short. I mean we’re still flying for like five and a half hours, I want more than salty ass peanuts in that span of time.”
I shake my head at her. “How is it that you eat more than I do, but stay as thin as a rail?”
“I work out, Giddy. Duh.”
The driver laughs.
The Uber pulls to a stop outside my apartment. Amber and I climb out and gather the few bags we had been able to bring back with us; our parents were shipping over the rest of Amber’s stuff when she finds an apartment of her own.
“Marshall!”
My head whips around at the sound of Alex’s voice. Alex and Anthony are coming towards us with the rest of our friends trailing behind. My heart beats double time at the sight of Wally. I had been dying to see him all weekend. My cock had been hard nearly all weekend with all the wicked images his texts had planted in my brain.
“Which one is Wally?” Amber asks.
“The one in the leather vest with all the tattoos.”
“He’s . . . um . . . older than I thought he would be.” She tilts her head like she’s studying him. “Hot though.”
“Gross,” I reply. “I don’t want to hear you call people hot.”
“So, I can’t say that the guy behind Alex is totally drool worthy?”
I tear my gaze from Wally to look at the man walking behind Alex. He’s a little younger than me, but definitely older than Amber with a swimmer’s build and spiky brown hair.
“Amber!” Alex exclaims when the group comes to a stop, scooping Amber into a hug. “It’s been years. You were, what, eleven when I saw you last?”
Amber swats his arm. “I was fourteen!”
Alex laughs, ruffling her hair. “You look good, munchkin.”
“Ugh, don’t call me munchkin anymore, Alex. I’m eighteen now!”
Alex claps me on the back. “What’s up, dude? How was home?”
“Same old. What is everyone doing?”
“We just saw Diabolic Divas 2.”
“Haven’t you already seen that three times?” I ask; we had just gone to see it when it first came out three weeks ago, and he had taken Declan and Lucky to it twice after that. “You have a problem, dude.”
“I do not! It’s the last week it’s in theatres, I had to see it again!”
I laugh at his outburst. “You’re a freak.” I side-step Alex who is talking to Amber again and go to Wally who is standing off to the side. “So, how did you like the shitty sci-fi flick?”
“I hated it, but my nephew, Justin--” he points to the man with the spiky hair who is now looking at my younger sister with stars in his eyes; I frown at him “--wanted to see it.”
I nod, still glaring at his nephew since he’s still staring at Amber. “Are you still free after your shift tonight?” I ask, turning back to Wally.
“Shouldn’t you hang out with your sister?”
“Please,” comes Amber’s voice from my right. “I just spent seventy-two hours and a five hour plane flight with him. Take him. Take him right now.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I’m Amber, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
He shakes her small manicured hand. “You too. Gideon’s told me a lot about you.”
“It’s probably all lies.”
I shove
her shoulder, but then loop an arm around her neck and pull her closer. “Are you sure you don’t want to hang out tonight, Ames? We can order a movie off Amazon and eat our weight in Chinese.”
“No, really. I probably won’t be much fun anyway. I just want to take a bath and go to sleep.”
I kiss her temple and turn back to Wally. “Midnight, right?”
“That means a booty call, Rhodes!” Alex yells from behind us.
I flip him off.
Wally nods. “I’ll see you then. We gotta get back, Justin’s here for only a few days, and I wanted to show him the Space Needle.”
“You wanna come, Marshall?” Alex askes, wrapping an arm around Anthony and Sam’s shoulders.
“Nah. I think I want to unwind for a bit.”
Wally shakes Amber’s hand again, and then leans in and kisses me sweetly before leaving Amber and I to our afternoon of unpacking and sleeping off our jet lag.
Chapter 10: Gideon
At midnight I head over to Wally’s in my beat up jeep, the smell of my favorite body wash and shaving cream fills up the small space, and I had worn my most comfortable pair of jeans and my old Kappa Phi Nu shirt from college.
Wally smiles when he opens the door, a dark eyebrow arching as he glances at my faded navy shirt. “Of course you were in a frat.”
I make a face at him, but smile to show that I am only joking. “You have a problem with frat houses?”
He laughs. “No. Some of the best parties were at frat houses when I was in college.”
He moves to the side and I step into the house, smiling when our chests brush. “Where did you go to college?” I ask.
“UCLA. Went for business.”
We head to the playroom, everything looks pretty much the same, except Wally had laid out everything we would need for the scene: rope, a gag, a butt plug. Shivers go up and down my spine, my cock jerks at the images the items evoke.
“Strip, Gideon. I want you ready for me when I return.”
“Yes, Sir.”
