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“Did he tell you about his own addictions?”
He flashes me a grin. “Yeah he did, probably the reason why he feels more like a father to me than my real one,” he says, matter-of-fact, no emotion in his voice. “I got into fights on a daily basis on and off the track. Went to parties and couldn’t quit that fucking white powder.” He stops talking, not finishing his sentence.
He swallows. We’re both quiet for a while. I don’t know what to say, so I wait until he’s ready to continue.
“My anger issues became too much. I stole and got into fights, and got my ass arrested numerous times.” He pauses, pulling me into his chest. “I was a screwed up punk. I made Jay’s life a living hell. He didn’t know how to take care of me, but he made it his mission to save me from myself. Be there when nobody else had been,” he says, his deep voice soft. He turns on his side. “Not like my junkie mother or my father.”
“Where is he now?” I ask, caressing his cheek.
He sighs, picking at an imaginary thread on his black shorts. “He lives with his motorcycle buddies not so far from here, in the desert. These,” he says, tugging on the dog tags around his neck, “are a reminder to never walk down my father’s path.”
“Are those his?” I ask, staring at them.
Nodding, he lets the tags go as if his hands are on fire. “Yeah, he wore them during Operation Desert Storm, and gave them to me before he went to prison.”
Hunter
“What was he in for again?” she asks.
I swallow, trying to hold back the lump in my throat. Why I still care for my father is beyond me. “For possession, selling dope and guns for the motorcycle gang he’s still part of. For being a shit excuse for a father.”
She lays her hand on my shoulder, warming my skin. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t there for me. Jay was there. Even when I was a screwed up teenager.” I grind my teeth together.
She rests her head against my chest. “What was he like?”
“My dad? Don’t know, don’t care.” I grunt.
“And Jay?” she asks, her voice soft.
I smile, shaking my head. “The greatest. He took care of me. Bought me my first real BMX bike.” I inhale sharply. “At first, I didn’t want to ride for a living but one day I rode down the hill, and I got hooked. I found what I was meant to do.”
She touches the silver bird she always wears around her neck.
“I’m glad you’re wearing his necklace. I know it means a lot to Jay.” I say.
“This was the only thing I wanted from him for a very long time.” Her eyes find mine, a look of embarrassment crossing her face. “I used to be so angry with him. With Drew, even you.”
“With me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“Yes.” She nods. After biting her lip, she says, “I’m not angry anymore.”
I tap my fingers on my leg. “What changed?”
She diverts her eyes from my stare. “Life,” she whispers, giving me a sad smile.
I put my arms around her and pull her into my chest. We are both quiet for a while.
“What happened?” I’m dreading the answer but I need to know.
She peeks up, kissing the tattoo above my nipple, and my dick twitches against my shorts. “I can’t,” is the only thing she says after a couple of seconds. “Why did you have to become real?”
“I’m real, Shorty. Is that why you were pushing me away so hard?” I ask, brushing my lips across her forehead.
“I never asked you to go after me. I never asked you to be my friend.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I never asked for anything other than…”
“Than what, babe? You sure as fuck never asked me to fall for you, and I fell hard. What do I need to do to convince you?” I rasp, running my hand through her long hair.
