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His fingers clawed at the bed at his sides as he stared at me. He made a fearful whine as he struggled against me again. I decked him across the face with the fist that wasn’t holding him around the neck, and his head jerked to the side.
“When I ask a fucking question, I want an answer.” I seized his face and turned it back toward me. “Did you tell your parents Jonas is gay?”
He whimpered and nodded, tears dripping down his flushed cheeks. His bottom lip wobbled and he let out a short cry. “I’m sorry. I was scared.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a fucking coward, you know that?”
“You don’t know my parents.” He stilled and lay limp under my rough hold.
“And you don’t know whatI’mcapable of doing to you.” I punched him in the gut again, and he yelled, trying to curl in on himself, but I wouldn’t let him. He didn’t deserve to escape my wrath. “It’s one thing to out yourself, but it ain’t fucking cool to out your friend.”
He blinked at me. “Why do you care about Jonas?” Then, his eyes went wide again. “Are you...?”
My fist connected with his jaw and spit went flying, along with blood and a tooth. He cried out, and I didn’t fucking care. I’d done enough damage. I shoved myself from the bed and stood beside it as he grasped his cheek, crying. His nakedness did nothing for me, but that wasn’t exactly surprising. I fucking hated cowards, and they weren’t attractive. Jonas, on the other hand, I would fuck into oblivion.
Chet’s shoulders shook and he cried harder.
“This is what you’re going to do, Chet.” I smirked and made a point of glancing at his cock. It was dismal, to say the least—not as long or thick as mine—but that wasn’t to say it was small, exactly, just not interesting. “You’re going to tell your parents you were lying. Tell them that Jonasisn’tgay, and you said it because you were afraid of coming out by yourself. Make them believe it.”
“Wha—”
I slapped him this time and another cry left his lips. I didn’t care. I wasn’t a nice person, and I wasn’t going to pretend I was. Fuck that. This fucker got to live in a nice house, and I lived in a trash can I called my trailer. When the river flooded, so did my home. He didn’t get to act like a victim.
I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Tell your parents you lied about Jonas. If I hear from him that you didn’t by tomorrow, I’ll come back and finish the job. Trust me, I’m not one of your religious neighbors.” My gaze slid down to his cock, still hard and standing at attention. I snorted. “You’re not so wholesome, either, are you, Chet?”
Rolling my eyes, I straightened and backed out of his room as slowly as I could, taking the door this time. I walked down a fancy hall with the walls draped in family photos that reminded me of those template pictures already placed in frames at the store. Everything about this place wastoonice, with clean lines and floral patterns that made me want to puke. It definitely had aModern Familyvibe, and I didn’t like it at all, especially after how Chet’s parents apparently treated their son after finding out he was gay. They were all family oriented until their child came out of the closet. Sounded right to me and didn’t surprise me one bit. Fuck these assholes. After Chet cleared Jonas, I was coming back here with Murph and messing this place up, rules be damned.
Something sparkly caught my eye on a small, narrow table beside the front door. I smirked at the sight of a gold watch. I grabbed the jewelry, slipping it into my pocket before I left. Even if they realized the timepiece was missing, they wouldn’t know I’d been here, and I bet I could sell it for a good chunk of change. Hell, even a couple of tens was more than I had to start with.
I moved swiftly across the street and toward the river, taking the rocks over to the trailer park side. Once I was home, I glanced over at Jonas’s house, staring at the lone light on the second floor that I knew was his room. I’d seen him standing in the window many times, and I’d stared at him for too long, but this evening, his curtains were closed and I couldn’t see a thing.
I smiled anyway and walked toward my trailer, which sat on the edge of our row, close to the river. When I reached home, I paused. Tavish Greer sat in one of the flimsy green lawn chairs we often used to drink beer in front of his home. He lived in the trailer next to me, and I liked him. He was much older than me, with blond-gray hair and a square jaw, and he and Leo had been friends before Leo went to prison. After Leo was sent up, Tav had watched over me, a lot like my big brother should’ve been.
“What are you doing?” I asked, grinning as I walked over to him to take the second lawn chair beside him.
He had a beer in each hand and passed me one, and I nodded in thanks. “I could be askin’ you the same thing. Saw you over on the other side of the wee river. What were you doin’?”
I shrugged and flicked the can open before taking a sip. Wincing, I glared at the beer. Fucking shit, but he already knew what I thought about the stuff he drank. He was born in Scotland and raised in America. His dad had gotten him into the Scottish beer, and I couldn’t say I was a fan of it.
“You stalkin’ that lad now?” he asked with a hint of teasing.
I snorted.
Tav was the only one, other than my brother, who knew I was gay. He’d “sensed it” when I was younger—probably caught me staring too long at the wrong type of ass—and confided in me that he was gay, too. He’d had a partner once, when he was around my age, who he’d loved. The fucker broke his heart, of course. I didn’t know the details, and Tav never offered them. He wore a bracelet made of shells, and Leo had told me Tav got it from the guy who’d destroyed him. It was Leo’s way of convincing me that relationships weren’t worth it, and it was better to fuck my way through life in secrecy.
“I’m not stalking him. That’s not my thing.”
Tav raised his eyebrows at me in disbelief and took a sip of his beer. Leaning back farther in his seat, he kicked a leg over his knee and sighed. “If you’re fuckin’ him, you need to be careful, Shep.”
His accent wasn’t thick, but the twang of his Scottish brogue filtered in sometimes, and he used words we didn’t say here, but he’d learned it from his parents—or so he’d told me when I’d asked as a kid.
“I’m not fucking him. Not yet, anyway.” I stared down at the red aluminum can and ran my finger over the large redBon the Bonnybridge Ale. “Planning on it.”
He laughed. “He finally notice you, did he?”
“Yeah. Murph lost it and was going to beat him up. I stepped in.”
Tav nearly spat out the sip of beer he’d just taken. “Fuck off. Murph did? Shite.” He shook his head and stared up at the dark, cloudy sky. It looked like it was trying to rain, and I could smell it in the air. We would have a storm tonight, I was sure of it. “He’s pushing the rules, isn’t he? Why’s he suddenly got a wish to be homeless?”
