Page 72 of His Holy Chaos

"Daddy, I have to be there now." I stop. "I would walk into a burning building for Alfie and not think twice about the fire. I need to do this. He needs help."

"Text me the moment you get there," he says. "I mean it. I will text Martha and Rose to come watch Angel." I try to say something, but he stops me. "Don't argue with me on this."

“Yes, sir," I tell him. I kiss him. Fast, hard. The truth is that I'm afraid of Carlos too. He's much bigger than us, and he was violent. He is violent.

I drive. I remember the bruises. The ones that weren't part of any scene. The ones Alfie hid under long sleeves in summer, under turtlenecks that didn't suit him, under lies that got thinner every time.

I remember the night he called me from a parking garage, his voice so flat it sounded automated, and told me that Carlos had choked him during a scene and hadn't stopped when he safed out. And the silence that followed when I asked him why he hadn't left yet. The silence that meant because he told me I deserved it, and I believed him.

I remember rebuilding him. He disappeared for a couple of months. Being hurt by someone you gave that level of trust to… it breaks something different. Watching him flinch at raised voices for a year. Watching the flinch slowly, slowly, slowly recede.

And now Carlos is back.

Alfie's townhouse appears at the end of a quiet street. I pull up to the curb and my headlights sweep the scene and my stomach drops through the floor of the car.

He's already here.

Carlos stands on the sidewalk in front of Alfie's door, pacing. He's bigger than I remember. Tall, broad-shouldered, thick through the middle, his arms sleeved in dark tattoos. His dark hair is buzzed close to his skull, and his jaw is clenched tight. He looks angry.

My hands are shaking. My stomach is twisting. But I need to be brave for my friend. I need to protect him. I type the text with thumbs that don't want to cooperate.

Carlos is here. Outside Alfie's.

I attach my location. I hit send.

I get out of the car.

My body knows this is a terrible idea before my brain catches up.

"Hey," I say, and my voice comes out bright and steady. I don't want him to think I'm here to threaten him. "Time to leave, Carlos."

He turns. He recognizes me. Of course he knows me. I'm the one who convinced Alfie to leave. I convinced Glynn to ban him from BratWorld. I'm the voice on the other end of the phone calls that pulled his property out of his hands.

"This isn't your business," he says. "What the fuck are you doing here, Jude?"

He steps forward. We're close now. His chest is broader than mine by a wide margin. I swallow hard and pray he doesn't see that I'm shaking.

"You should get back in your car," he says. "Before I put you in it."

"Compelling pitch. But I'm going to pass."

"Your mouth is writing checks your body can't cash. As usual."

"Alfie doesn't want to see you. He didn't want to see you eight months ago, he didn't want to see you yesterday, and he definitely doesn't want to see you now, standing on his sidewalk like a restraining order that learned to walk."

"You don't know what Alfie wants. You never did. You're the one who poisoned him against me."

"I didn't poison anything. I just showed him that love is consensual. Revolutionary concept, I know. Takes some people longer to learn."

The flicker of the porch light catches movement behind Carlos. Alfie. He's wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, no jacket, his arms wrapped around himself. He's nothing like the Alfie he usually is.

"Jude," he says, and his voice is barely there. "Don't…"

Carlos turns. The pivot is fast, predatory, his attention swinging to Alfie. "There you are. You think you can just walk away from me? After everything I gave you? Everything I—"

I step between them. I don't think about it. I just move.

"Don't talk to him," I say, and now my voice has lost its brightness. "Don't look at him. Look at me."