by Anders Grey
“What are you saying?” I asked, dreading the answer.
Ms. Walker exhaled softly through her nose. “There were some requirements that needed to be fulfilled before you received access to certain things, such as parts of the house and other items in the will.”
“What kind of requirements?”
The lack of transparency was killing me. I wanted to demand all the answers from her like a child throwing a tantrum, but I held myself back. If she was an agent of my parents, then I needed her on my side.
“Johnathan, let me ask you something,” she began. “Why do you need the key?”
“This office is part of the house–my house,” I said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And if I’m gonna sell this place, then I need to be able to open the door, don’t you think?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, Ms. Walker’s expression changed. She gave me a small nod. “I see. You’re interested in selling the house, then.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “I don’t need all this space, and it’s just…” I cut off, realizing I didn’t need to explain myself to her. “So I need the key. Please.”
“I’m sorry, Johnathan, I really am. But I’m afraid I can’t give it to you.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
Her mouth was a thin line. “I’m under strict orders from the late Hunters not to give you the office key if it appeared you were interested in getting the house off your hands.” She gestured around the hall. “There’s no personal touches here, nothing that makes it seem like you’re here to stay. They didn’t want you to treat this estate like a hotel or an asset to be liquidated, but as your home.”
At first I was so full of disbelief that I barely breathed, but once the reality hit me, my blood boiled. I ground my teeth together.
Of course. Of course they would do something like this.
My temper flared, and all the bitterness and resentment I’d felt towards my parents exploded.
“It’s not their house!” I cried. “They’re dead, for god’s sake!”
Ms. Walker just nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. But these are the instructions I was given, and I must follow them.” She turned to leave, then hesitated. “I hope you don’t think too poorly of me.”
I didn’t reply, too consumed by my emotions. Then I called out, “Wait. What am I supposed to do? Just go on with my life until I’ve passed some kind of checklist they left behind?”
Ms. Walker offered me a polite smile. “Just live your life, Johnathan. Focus on your job. Make new friends. Maybe find a girlfriend.”
When she said that word, my eyes widened. She lingered on it, like she was dropping a hint. Had my parents said something about that specifically to her? Did my parents tell the lawyer how disappointed they were in their gay son?
Give me a fucking break.
“Life goes on, Johnathan,” she said. “Give me another call in a few weeks and I’ll check up on your progress. We’ll talk then. Good luck.”
My jaw tightened, and I didn’t reply as Ms. Walker politely said goodbye and disappeared down the stairs. I watched her go, feeling numb the whole time. When the door shut behind her and I was alone in this empty house again, my knees began to shake.
I was stuck. Stuck with this house that I couldn’t sell, stuck without the big break I thought I’d been gifted, stuck in this shitty neighborhood with its shitty people. Stuck in the past and surrounded by all the bad memories in this place, like ghosts that continued to haunt me.
After Mat’s suggestion, I’d briefly thought of this mansion as a blessing, but now I knew with certainty that it was a curse. My parents wanted their iron grip on me even after their death. It was a sick joke.
Everything crumbled and I sank to my knees at the top of the stairs, hugging them like I was a child. I’d never felt so utterly alone.
10
Cain
Just as the sun rose and cleared the early morning mist from the clean-cut lawns, the heavy sleep I’d fallen into helped me come back to my senses. It was a new day and I was done feeling sorry for myself.
I took my time with my morning routine. I cuddled with Roxy in bed, then took a steaming hot shower and sat down in front of the vanity mirror to do my hair while the scent of strawberry shampoo wafted in the air. We shared a light breakfast of granola and dog food–mine and hers, respectively–and took a brisk walk in the sunshine.
The darkness of the previous day was gone and replaced by optimism.
Why? Because I was done with Johnny Hunter.
I spotted Kaitlyn down the sidewalk, who was in the middle of an exercise routine. She wore a couple of single-pound weights strapped to her ankles and walked at a pace not quite fast enough to be considered power walking.
Usually I wasn’t one to initiate conversation with any of my neighbors, but I was feeling upbeat after my decision to forget Johnny and I thought this would be a good change of pace. I smiled and greeted her.
“Oh, Cain!” she said. “Good morning! Oh, did you get that invite? I went and talked to Cherry for you.”
“You did?” I asked, genuinely surprised. I knew she mentioned it, but I wasn’t expecting her to actually go through with it.
“Uh huh. You know, I think it was supposed to be a girls’ night party, but I pulled some strings with Cherry and got her to invite you.” She giggled and playfully elbowed me. “Now it’s a girls and gays night.”
I was taken aback. I didn’t think Kaitlyn cared enough to go to all that effort. Moreover, I hadn’t known it was supposed to be a women-only event. I thought back to the scene I caused with Cherry and Johnny the other day and felt an immense sense of shame. Why had I made such a big deal out of it? I’d embarrassed both of them when I didn’t even know the full story.
“Sorry,” Kaitlyn said when I didn’t reply, her brow furrowed. “That’s not offensive, is it?”
“No, no,” I said, quickly putting on a smile. “I was just thinking about something dumb I did the other day.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re not dumb,” she said, waving a hand. “Anyways, we’re gonna have so much fun. Just us girls and you with no silly straight men to annoy us! Now I’ve gotta keep up my workout, I’ll talk to you later.”
I watched her go with a cloud of confusion over my mind. Why had Kaitlyn done such a nice thing for me? She didn’t have to go out of her way like that for my sake, but she did. And to repay her, I’d caused a big scene with Cherry, who was only trying to be nice.
Ugh, what is wrong with me?
After returning home, I picked up the party invitation and opened it for the first time. I frowned, feeling even more guilty when I saw the luxurious quality of the paper and envelope, and the fact that the invitation itself was handwritten in Cherry’s cursive scrawl.
I felt like an idiot, but I knew the only thing I could do was suck it up and attend the party and hope Cherry didn’t think too badly of me for acting like a child. I made a mental note to bring a nice bottle of champagne as an apology. Maybe even two. Would three be overkill?
Besides, the party would serve as a good distraction from Johnny. But before then, I had something very important to do.
I placed the envelope delicately on the counter, then marched over to my neighbor’s house. On the way I noticed with a twinge of irritation that he’d forgotten to water the flowers in the front yard. Only the wild phlox wasn’t wilting beneath the sun, continuing to grow like the weed it was.
Whatever. They’re not my responsibility now that Johnny’s running the place. If the plants die, it’s his problem.
I knocked firmly and waited, but nobody came to the door. I noticed that the door was slightly ajar, as if the person who used it last didn’t fully close it.
I frowned. What I had to tell Johnny was incredibly important, and if that meant entering his home, I’d do it. If he had a problem with it, I could always snark that he should do a better job of shu
tting his own front door.
I stepped inside and called out, “Johnny? Are you here? I have to talk to you.”
My voice echoed in the halls, sending an unnerving chill down my spine. Even though our homes were roughly the same size, his seemed strangely empty, like an abandoned model home. Not somewhere somebody actually lived. I childishly wondered if the late Hunters were still haunting this place.
On that note, I nearly leapt out of my skin when I heard a low moan coming from the upper floor.
Given that it sounded familiar and masculine, I ran up the stairs, banking on the chance that it was Johnny and not a murderer.
“Johnny?” I called again.
There was a lump huddled low against the wall. I recognized the figure as Johnny. He slowly raised his head, his face shadowed, his dark hair mussed up and his eyes glinting like dull knives.
“What do you want?” he asked. There was a crack in his voice like he’d been crying.
The sight of him like this startled me. I was expecting to waltz in here, tell him off, and dramatically walk away, never to see him again. But something about seeing him in such obvious pain softened my anger. I approached him cautiously, like he was a wounded animal.
“What happened?” I asked.
But the dagger-like glare of his eyes sharpened as I got closer. “I thought I told you to back off, Cain.”
Slumped against the wall like that, he didn’t seem in any shape to follow through with threats, but I stopped anyway. I didn’t want to press his buttons.
“I came to talk to you,” I said slowly. “But maybe this isn’t a good time.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
He didn’t respond. He got to his feet, and I saw that his eyes were rimmed with red, and there was more hurt in them than anger.
“Whatever you want to say, just say it,” he muttered.
I chose my words carefully. “I really don’t think it’s appropriate, given your state.”
“Cain.” The way he said my name–softly, yet also sharp as a razor’s edge–sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m not in the mood for any more secrets. Just say it.”
He was serious. I knew I wouldn’t do him any favors by lying, and I didn’t know if I could work up the nerve to do this again. I swallowed hard.
“I was going to say… I think we should cut ties.”
“Fine.”
His answer was so quick that I nearly missed it. I blinked, confused.
“But,” I added, “maybe not now. Maybe–”
“Maybe what?” Johnny interrupted. “Maybe we’ll make up? Maybe we won’t hate each other someday?”
His words were like a slap in the face. After all I’d done for him, that was what he thought of me? My temper flared, not willing to sit idle and take it anymore.
“I don’t hate you, idiot,” I snapped. “I don’t care if you hate my guts, but I’ve never hated you, so don’t put words in my mouth. And besides, if I hated you, why the fuck would I help you over and over? Sorry for trying to be nice!”
Johnny leapt at me like a predator. He grabbed the front of my shirt and slammed me up against the wall, making the air in my lungs rattle. I was aware of my feet dangling a few inches off the ground. Johnny pressed in closer, using his weight to pin me. My heart hammered between my ribs, and with his chest pushing into mine, I realized I could feel his heart, too–and it was just as fast as mine.
But I wasn’t scared.
“Don’t bother,” I said calmly. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
Mild shock crossed Johnny’s expression before twisting into anger. But by now, I’d seen enough true anger on his face to realize he wasn’t angry with me right now. He was upset and torn by grief. He was scared and lonely, and I was the only person he could take it out on.
“Just do whatever you want,” I said when he didn’t speak. “Since I already know you’re not gonna ruin my handsome face, just say whatever hurtful things you want to say and get it out of your system.”
He stared at me with an expression I could only describe as lost. It seemed like, for a single moment, Johnny didn’t know who or what he was. His fists loosened in my shirt until I slipped lower and my feet touched the ground.
“I don’t want to say anything like that to you,” he mumbled.
I would have crossed my arms if Johnny’s fingers weren’t gripping them to hold me still. “Are you sure? Because you won’t get this opportunity again. Let it all out.”
“I’m serious,” he said, a little harsher. “I don’t… I’m not going to stand around and insult you.”
“But pinning me to a wall is okay.”
He furrowed his brow and shot me a guilty look like a dog who’d just put his teeth around the family rabbit.
“How do you know?” he asked softly.
“Know what?”
“Know I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Without meaning to, my lips split in a wry smirk. “Because as rough and callous as you are sometimes, you’re not a bully. You’re the guy who saves other people from bullies.” When he didn’t reply, I went on. “Remember? High school? You and me and that Lucas guy?”
“Yeah.”
A strange silence fell between us. I didn’t like it, so I spoke again. “I admired you back then. I thought you were really cool.”
His expression took on a wariness that wasn’t there before, as if trying to decipher if I was lying. But whether he believed me or not, my words were genuine.
“I didn’t know that,” Johnny said.
I brushed off the front of my shirt, getting rid of the creases. “Well, now you do.”
“Why did you come here?” he asked. “Just to tell me we shouldn’t see each other anymore?”
I almost laughed. He made it sound like we were having a lovers’ spat–which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Basically, yes. I was embarrassed about my behavior the other day in front of Cherry. Not just towards her, but you too.” I rubbed my arm. “So, sorry about that. I was gonna say, next time I won’t force you into anything, but… I guess there won’t be a next time.”
That awkward, tense silence fell again, and my skin itched. I suddenly wanted to leave–not because I felt uncomfortable but because being around Johnny made me want to stay, and that frightened me.
When I turned to bolt, I felt his hand close around my wrist.
“Wait,” Johnny said. “Don’t leave.”
I stopped mid-stride and turned to face him. Loneliness and grief rolled off him in waves.
“I have to go back home,” I said, but it was a weak excuse.
“I don’t want to be alone right now, and I don’t want to be in this house.” Johnny’s voice was pleading, and with every passing second, I forgot the anger that followed me here in the first place.
As I stared into his harrowed and desperate face, I realized he had nowhere else to go, no one else to stay with. All his friends were back in the city and he had no other family here.
I couldn’t say no.
And worse, I didn’t want to say no.
Maybe despite my better judgment, I said, “Okay. Let’s go to my place. But for the love of god, Johnny, water those plants in the garden before we leave.”
11
Johnny
I expected Cain to refuse. Hell, I would have. After yelling at him and pinning him against the wall like a schoolyard bully, I deserved it. But instead, he told me I wasn’t a bully. That I’d been the one to save him from the real ones.
I’d almost forgotten that time in high school where I found Nash’s stepbrother Lucas about to pummel Cain. The mental image of Cain a decade ago almost made me snort. He wasn’t a particularly large man even now, but back then he was roughly half the size, a skinny blond twig who looked like a stiff breeze would push him over. I thought nothing of it at the time, but apparently Cain did. It surprised me that he spoke of the event with such fondness, even ten years la
ter.
I also didn’t know what I was thinking, begging him to let me over to his house. If I wasn’t so fucking emotional, I would’ve holed up in my own bedroom and waited for the storm to pass. But the ordeal with the lawyer and learning that my parents didn’t trust me even in death was more than I could handle.
Even if Cain was an annoying, untrustworthy brat, he was still a better distraction than anything at home.
At his insistence, I brought out the watering can for the garden. If I was honest, the garden was one more responsibility I didn’t want to deal with, but I also didn’t want the flowers to die. There had been too much death lately. I didn’t need any more ghosts haunting me.
Cain sighed and brushed aside a long-stemmed phlox plant with a frown. It grew wildly, pushing two meticulously placed rose bushes out of the way in an unruly, defiant fashion.
“You can pull these, you know,” Cain said, gesturing to the phlox. “They’re weeds.”
“No way,” I growled. “I like them. Don’t touch them.”
He blinked, taking a second look at the white and pink pinstriped flowers blooming at the top. “Okay, I won’t. I mean, I guess they’re kind of cute.”
I raised a brow, thinking it was odd for a straight man to call a flower cute, but didn’t comment.
After watering the garden, we cut across the lawn to Cain’s place. By now the sun had disappeared behind overcast clouds, coating everything in grey light. When the rain finally broke, we were safely inside.
Cain’s dog greeted me like she’d known me her entire life, her body trembling in a full-body shake. I knelt down to pet her, noting the juxtaposition of the silky white hair on her head and her hairless body. Despite my sour mood, I couldn’t help but smile while petting her. She didn’t have a care in the world, living in this mansion like the princess she was, having her every whim catered to.
I almost snorted thinking that Cain cared more about his naked little dog than my own parents cared about me.
