Alex (Striking Back #4)

by S. M. Shade

  Mason smiles. “I understand. We want you to succeed, Kyle, not just survive. You can still go to college and make something of yourself. I understand you want to work and make money of your own, so I have a proposition. Spend the mornings at S.B. with the tutor and you can work at the new shelter in the afternoons. Earn some pocket money.”

  Dazed by the new offer, Kyle turns to me. “And this is okay with you? Me staying here?” He regards Ian. “And you?”

  “Was my idea,” Ian replies with a smug smile.

  “I want you to stay with us, but you have to understand you can’t tell anyone the things you learn about S.B. Obviously, we stray outside the law when we have to. If you tell anyone, a friend or girlfriend, it risks our whole operation and lots of people will be hurt. Understand?”

  “I’ll never say a word, but, who should I say I am? I mean, neighbors might ask or something.”

  Smart kid. “You’re my cousin. You’re eighteen and have come to help us at the gym. Any other questions?”

  “When can I start the classes and work?”

  Mason laughs and claps him on the back. “Tomorrow. Alex can drop you at S.B. in the morning and you can ride to the shelter with me after class.”

  “Thank you.” Kyle looks from Mason to me to Ian. “Thank you so much.”

  Ian

  The arrangement with Kyle has been working out well the past few weeks. Alex drops him at Striking Back every morning and Mason brings him home in the evening. We either make or order dinner and play video games for a few hours. It’s good to see the kid put on some weight.

  Kyle and I are ass deep in dead zombies on Friday night when Alex flops beside me on the couch and picks up a sketchbook from the table. “Do you mind if I have a look?” he asks Kyle.

  “Sure, but it’s just doodles.”

  I’ve seen his work and it’s far from doodles. He’s incredibly talented, especially considering he hasn’t had any training or art education. His drawings are lifelike and hauntingly beautiful. Alex gazes at a sketch of an empty street littered with trash where a lone boy sits on the center line, his legs drawn up, forehead on his knees. “Kyle, this is amazing.”

  Kyle shrugs off the comment just as he did when I tried to admire his work. “Have you ever considered going to art school?”

  “Sure,” he scoffs. “After I hit the lottery and marry Mila Kunis.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass. You can be anything you want to be. If drawing is something you enjoy…”

  “It’s what I love best, but my dad always said there’s no money in it. Plus, he didn’t want a fruity artist for a son.”

  Alex shakes his head. “Fuck what your dad said. What do you want?”

  Kyle considers it a moment. “I don’t know. I love to draw, but I’ve never really got to try anything else.”

  “You will. You’ll get a chance to try lots of new things. Don’t let your dad’s or anyone else’s opinions sway you. Just think about it, okay?”

  “Sure. I have like five months before I can go to school anyway, right?”

  “Yeah,” Alex agrees. “Time to look around and see what interests you.” The expression on Alex’s face is telling. He’s up to something, but lets the subject drop, and Kyle returns his attention to the game.

  The next morning, a bleary eyed Kyle shuffles through the living room to the kitchen to grab a pack of toaster pastries and juice. “I never thought I’d meet a worse morning person than Alex,” I remark as he flops on the couch beside me.

  “Nothing to do today,” he mumbles. “I could go back to bed.”

  “Or you can come with me. You need to learn to drive. Just because you can’t get your license until you’re eighteen doesn’t mean you can’t learn.”

  His eyes brighten. “What if we get pulled over?”

  “We’ll go out by the new S.B. shelter and practice on the country roads. Unless, you know, you’d rather go back to sleep.”

  He’s awake now. “Give me ten minutes. Is Alex going?”

  “No, he has something to do on Saturdays.”

  “Oh, yeah, he visits his dad in prison.”

  I’m a little surprised he told Kyle, but I’m sure he didn’t tell him why he goes. “Yep, we’ll meet him at Mason’s later. If we survive.”

  Swallowing the last bite, he scoffs, “Please, you’ve seen me play Grand Theft Auto. I’m a great driver.”

  “As long as you don’t run anyone over or pick up any hookers.”

  It turns out, he isn’t a complete terror behind the wheel. Extremely cautious and a little jumpy, but for his first time driving, I imagine that’s normal. After cruising up and down the twisting road that surrounds the new Striking Back grounds, I motion for him to take a right. “Head back toward Mason’s. Everly invited us to lunch and Alex will be there soon.”

  “Can we do this again?” I can only imagine the plethora of girls who will someday swoon at that puppy dog look.

  “Of course. You don’t learn to drive in a day.”

  “Tomorrow?” he asks.

  His excitement is amusing. When was the last time I felt really excited about something? I honestly can’t remember. “Okay.”

  Alex is just climbing out of his car when Kyle slowly pulls up beside him. “Am I too close?”

  “You’re fine. Let’s go eat.”

  Alex shakes his head as we meet up with him. “You’re aware he doesn’t have a license.”

  “That’s why he needs driving lessons. Don’t worry, Dad. We stayed on the property.” Alex flips my ear, and I try to punch him. It never works. He’s a black belt. Bastard blocks without even thinking about it.

  “Stop fighting and get your asses in the house,” Ev insists, swinging open the front door. “Cody’s about to pee his pants waiting for Kyle.” She turns to him with an apologetic look. “He wants you to help him on Minecraft.”

  Kyle grins. “No problem, I love Minecraft.”

  “I’ll call you when lunch is ready!” Ev calls as Cody drags Kyle upstairs to his room.

  I join Ev in the kitchen while Mason pulls Alex into the den. “How is everything going?” she asks. “Alex seems to be doing better.”

  “He is. Having Kyle around has helped, I think. Distracted him.”

  Ev wipes her hands on a dishtowel and faces me. “How do you feel about having Kyle around?”

  I grab a soda from her fridge. “He’s a good kid. Hasn’t been any trouble. Mason says he works hard and won’t have any trouble passing the GED and college entrance exams when the time comes. You should see his drawings, pup. I’ve never seen such raw talent.”

  “Mason showed me. He’s amazing.” She ladles steaming chili into a large bowl. “Chili’s done. Take this bowl to the table,” she orders, grabbing a plate of cornbread and following me into the dining room.

  After lunch, Everly takes Cody upstairs while Alex, Kyle, and I join Mason in the den. Mason regards Kyle with a smile. “I’ve seen your drawings. You are an extremely talented young man.” He produces a shiny brochure and hands it to Kyle.

  “This is an art school run by a friend of Striking Back. They teach many different types of art, along with music and drama. I’d like to know what you think.”

  Kyle flips through the brochure and replies, “It looks like a dream come true, but the loans I’d need to attend a school like this must be astronomical.”

  Mason lays a hand on his shoulder. “No loans, son. Like I said, the school is owned by a friend, and when I showed him your work, he offered you a full scholarship. Four years. If this is something you’re interested in pursuing.”

  Kyle looks like he’s going to cry. “I can really go here? Free?”

  “It’s a rigorous program, and you’ll have to work your ass off,” he warns.

  “I can do that.”

  “I know you can. You can start Monday if you want, or if you need some time to think about it, that’s fine too.”

  Kyle’s mouth drops open. “But…won’t the state fi
nd me if I enroll?”

  “No, my friend will enroll you under a different last name until you turn eighteen, then correct it. I’ve assured him you’ll have no problem getting your GED then as well. We can straighten it all out later, but in the meantime, you can become a student.”

  He peruses the brochure a little more. “It’s three hours away. Would I live there?”

  “You’d stay in a dorm through the week, and come back to Alex’s on the weekends.”

  Alex looks him in the eye. “We aren’t trying to get rid of you. If you aren’t ready to do this, it’s no problem. You can stay with us and keep taking your GED classes and working at the shelter.”

  Kyle gnaws his lip and the corner of his mouth tips up. “Are there girls?”

  The room fills with laughter and Mason replies, “It’s co-ed, yes.”

  Mason stumbles when Kyle throws his arms around him in a fierce hug. “Thank you. I won’t screw up this opportunity. I swear.”

  “I know you won’t. Now, you’d better get to packing. I’ll drive you up to the school tomorrow evening and get you settled in.”

  Kyle smiles and says, “I need to go say goodbye to Cody and Ev.” I can feel the excitement humming through him like he’s giving off an electric charge as he rushes from the room.

  “Are you sure this isn’t too much too soon?” Alex worries. “He’s still adjusting.”

  “If he isn’t happy there, he’s welcome to come back. Let’s give him a chance,” Mason advises.

  “I’m sending him with condoms,” I announce.

  “A shitload,” Alex agrees.

  * * * *

  Alex and I ride with Mason to take Kyle to his new school. Kyle is quiet through most of the drive. “You nervous?” I ask.

  “A little,” he replies with a shrug. “I’ve been to the same school my whole life.”

  “Well, take it from someone who changed schools two or three times per year, you won’t be the new kid long. Just join in and act like you know you belong there, because you do.”

  “And you can call if there are any problems,” Alex adds.

  The Danfield School of Visual and Performing Arts has a wide, sprawling campus. A light snow covers the grounds and bundled up students rush from one building to another. The Men’s Dean is waiting for us in the administrative building.

  “Mason.” He shakes Mason’s hand. “Good to see you again. This must be Kyle. I’m Dean Bradley.”

  Kyle extends a hand with just the slightest tremble. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too, son. Now, let’s get you settled in your dorm, then we’ll get your class schedule worked out and give you a tour. You’ll start classes tomorrow.”

  We follow Dean Bradley across the lawn to a large stone building that looks ancient. “This is the Men’s Dorm. You’ll be rooming with Joshua Hufton on the first floor. Everyone is at dinner right now, but he’ll be back shortly.” He opens the door to a spacious sitting room, complete with sofa, television, and an overstuffed chair. A mini fridge and microwave rest on a counter in the corner and a large T.V. hangs on the wall.

  “This is the common area you’ll share with Joshua. Your room is on the right.” Kyle’s eyes widen when the dean opens the door to an average sized room. It’s furnished with a full sized bed, dresser, desk, and nightstand. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

  “It’s great,” Kyle exclaims.

  Mason chats with the dean while we get Kyle’s stuff moved in and organized. When everything is set, the dean turns to us. “If you’d like to say goodbye here, I’ll show Kyle where the cafeteria is so he can grab a bite and meet his roommate.”

  “Good luck,” Mason tells Kyle. “Call us if you need anything.”

  Alex hugs him. “Anything,” he adds.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kyle laughs, embarrassed by the attention.

  “See you Friday.” I slap him on the back, and we make our way to the car.

  “I feel like we’re abandoning him,” Alex confesses as we pull away, and Mason laughs.

  “He’s almost eighteen years old. He’ll be fine. Wait until you have to drop a six year old off at Kindergarten.”

  A few hours later, Alex flops beside me on the couch with a sigh. “It’s too quiet.” It seems I’m not the only one feeling a void. I got used to having the brat around.

  I end my video game and switch to Netflix. “He’ll be back next weekend.”

  “No, he has to stay the first weekend for some orientation deal.”

  “Are you okay?” I know having Kyle around distracted him from thoughts of Cooper. Kept him busy and his mind focused on other things.

  “Fine,” he murmurs, but loneliness creeps into his features.

  “Here.” I hand him the remote. “Find a movie and I’ll grab us a beer.”

  A few drinks and two comedies later, he’s in better spirits. Yawning, he hands me the remote. “I’m going to crash.”

  “Just turn it off. Linda is on her way for a little late night bang.”

  “Whore.”

  “Jealous.”

  “Someday you’ll realize I could suck it so much better,” he laughs.

  “No whiskers on my nads, dude.”

  “Nads,” he snorts, and heads off to bed.

  I asked Alex to live with me because his boyfriend, Cooper, died, and I knew his brothers and their girls would smother him when that wasn’t what he needed. I figured he’d stay a few months until he was ready to move on, but I didn’t expect to enjoy his company as much as I do. I’ve always lived alone. I have to admit, it’s nice to come home and have someone to hang out with, have dinner with.

  I’ve never been interested in a relationship. It just seems like too much drama and trouble when it won’t last anyway. Maybe if I met a woman I enjoyed being around as much as Alex, I’d consider it.

  Linda shows up a few minutes later, dressed in a tiny skirt with thigh high stockings. I swear the woman can read my dirty mind. She squeals when I throw her over my shoulder and smack her ass on the way to my room. Standing at the end of my bed, she releases her bra and firm tits bounce in front of my eyes. The stress of the day fades as I bury myself in her silky skin and sweet scent.

  Her voice moaning my name pulls at something inside me I don’t have the words to describe or the intellect to understand. She wants me. Right now, she wants only me. I take her in every position we can think of, until we both lie sated and exhausted.

  Our hands still roam one another’s skin when she asks, “Have you been tested, lately?”

  Frowning, I roll to face her. “Of course. I get tested every four months. We used a condom, baby. What’s your worry?”

  Her hand guides mine down to my balls. “You have a lump here.”

  She’s right. There’s a small painless lump on my right testicle. Shit. Have I caught something? I always wrap it up. STD’s cause sores, not lumps under the skin, right?

  Her voice is soothing. “It’s not a wart or anything. I’ve seen those before,” she confesses with a shudder. “Probably just a cyst or something, but get it looked at, okay?” She fondles me. “Don’t want this beast out of commission.”

  I smile, despite the cold fear overtaking me. “Will do, baby.”

  After she leaves, I lay a mirror on my bedroom floor and kneel over it, terrified at what I might find. All those STD film strips from school are playing in my head. But the mirror doesn’t show me anything. Whatever the problem is, it’s beneath the skin and can only be felt. I’m tempted to go to the emergency room, but I don’t want to overreact. I’ll call my doctor in the morning. It’s going to be a long night.

  After tossing and turning all night, I feel like a zombie when I park outside my office. The doctor couldn’t work me in until after lunch, so I worry my way through the first half of my day. Ev calls as I’m clearing off my desk. “Hey loser. Want to meet me for lunch?”

  “Sorry, pup. I have a meeting. Maybe later this week.”

  “What’s
wrong?” Shit. How does she always know?

  “Nothing’s wrong. Just buried in work and trying to catch up. I guess I’m a little stressed.” I hate lying to Ev, but there’s no way I’m worrying her with this.

  “Well, don’t overdo it.”

  “Yes, Mom. Do you know if Alex went to the gym today?” Maybe I can change the subject.

  “He’s there now, working with some students.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “He’s really getting better, isn’t he?”

  “I think so. I didn’t have to drag him out of bed this morning, so that’s a good sign. But he’s a little bummed about Kyle leaving, so I wanted to make sure he wasn’t wallowing at home. Listen, I’ve got to go. Call you soon, okay?”

  “Kay. Love ya.”

  “Love ya, pup.”

  After what seems like three days, the clock reads twelve-thirty and I head to my doctor’s office. I’ve never been so glad to have a male doctor when he begins to examine my balls. The last thing I want is for any chick to know my junk is diseased. “Just tell me it’s not herpes or HPV,” I beg, and the doctor shakes his head.

  “It’s not an STD. When did you first notice the lump?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Well, you did good getting in quickly.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “We’ll need to run some tests to figure that out.” He scribbles a few notes and then hands me a sheet of paper. “Take that to St. Vincent’s Hospital. They’ll get you in for an ultrasound, so we can see what we’re dealing with.”

  “Is it a cyst, maybe?”

  “It’s possible, but it doesn’t feel like a cyst.”

  “A tumor?” My voice is barely audible. The word cancer beats in my head.

  The doctor closes my file and gives me a grin I’m sure is intended to be reassuring. “Try not to worry. We just don’t know until the tests come back. My nurse will be in shortly to draw some blood, then you need to head over to the hospital. They’ll be expecting you.”

  So I go from a doctor playing with my junk to an ultrasound tech slathering my balls in goop and running a wand over them. Not my proudest moment. The good thing about an ultrasound is that there isn’t a long wait for test results.