by Alice Shaw
Most of the time, the going was tough.
“I can get through this,” I whispered. I always had. People came and went all the time. But Holden… fuck.
I laid in bed for hours like that, just staring at my ceiling. I attempted to count sheep, but my mind was racing too fucking fast.
“No, he can’t leave,” I decided, albeit selfishly.
At about four in the morning, I scratched the back of my head and made the decision. I jumped off of my mattress and walked over to my small safe. I clicked the numbers in place, popping the tiny door open.
I didn’t have much to my name. I had just two thousand dollars in savings. Every extra cent I made went toward my dream of owning my own restaurant. I used to watch cooking shows, back in the pen. We all did. It was the only program everyone could agree on watching.
Anthony Bourdain was our favorite. He’d travel the world, eating the best food. He was respectable. He did things from the heart. I wanted to be like that.
Eventually, that’s what pushed me to make the giant leap forward. I would travel and eat the most delicious food in every city that I could. Somehow, I ended up in Belleview Bay. This wasn’t the place I pictured, but it was a safe spot for travelers. Plus, I figured I’d get out soon enough.
Three years later, I was still there, still in this shitty trailer. I was chasing a dream that felt on the verge of collapsing. What was I going to do? Give up? Fuck no.
I knew what I could do. I could give some of this money to Holden. He needed it more than I did. I had a strong feeling that his family wasn’t so understanding of who he was. When he’d return home, they’d scold him. They would put him to work. His dreams would end.
I, on the other hand, had some luxury. I didn’t have any family to answer to. I had the freedom to choose, despite my financial situation. So, why shouldn’t I have helped someone like Holden out?
I grabbed a small stack of bills, amounting to five hundred dollars. I counted each twenty, carefully folding them inside my palm. I quietly walked out of my room and into the dark living room.
I saw Holden sleeping, clutching the blanket against his chest. He was trembling in the night, but it wasn’t cold inside at all. He was having dreams I’d never know about, dreams that rocked him to the core.
“I hope this helps,” I whispered, but it wasn’t loud enough to wake him up.
I set the money on the table and wrote a short note. “For your travels. Skip the bus. Get your truck back.”
Holden seemed like someone who might deny the money, even if he urgently needed it. At least this way, he couldn’t say no. If he decided to leave the money, I’d pay to take off his truck’s wheel clamp, and I would find Holden myself.
I stepped outside and anxiously searched the horizon. There was nowhere to go, except the opposite end of the bay, where all of the travelers usually ended up. There was the rich side and there were the poor on the other side of the water. Same old story that I didn’t ever find amusing.
I wouldn’t be going there tonight. Instead, I walked into the cold desert. I thought about my own past, and how I managed to end up here. It wasn’t just about food, admittedly. It was about so much more.
I grew up pretty hard. My family tried to give me the world, but there was something inside of me that pulled me downward. I wanted more. I wanted better. As cliché as it was, I wanted a way out of the status-quo.
At an early age, my uncle taught me the way of the land. He showed me the other side of life in our city. He taught me the power of money. He taught me about the power of getting what I wanted.
Slowly, but surely, he took me under his wing. My parents, of course, had no idea. They thought I was just hanging out with friends. At thirteen years old, I should have been. Instead, I was on the streets, scoping businesses out and figuring out the how the “real world” could affect their television sets.
When I turned seventeen, I had new things, all within my grasp. Or so, I thought. Truly, I had nothing. I had cash, but no one wanted to be seen with me. I had material possessions, but I had no one to talk to. When my uncle asked me to do another job for him, I agreed.
It was going to be much bigger than anything I had done for him. I was going to rise up in the ranks. I’d make a shit ton of money. “Anything you want. Enough to retire,” he said. Those words still echo in my head to this day.
My uncle put the nine millimeter in my hand. He curled my fingers around the handle. He told me to rob the liquor store on South Hendricks street.
I knew exactly where that was. It was where all the big players went. “I know the guys running the place. Don’t worry. It’s safe. Everything is set up for you,” he told me.
So, I went. I went with a fucking smile on my face and dollar signs in my eyes. I remembered feeling the cold wind brush against my facemask.
Just as I was about to step inside, I caught eyes with someone I knew. A classmate. Someone who was never to be trusted. I smiled and gave him a slow laugh. That’s when I kicked the door and pointed my weapon, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Power. Real power. And it was all mine.
“Get on the fucking floor!”
Gun pointed, circling the room. My maniacal laughter. I think back on it, and I can’t even recognize myself. In one single moment, I turned into a monster.
I don’t remember the hit, but when the metal pipe hit the back of my skull, I fell to the floor. Next thing I knew, I was in the back of a police car. The next few days were blurry, but I knew that my life was over.
I was set up by my own uncle, and I was completely devastated. I trusted him, but I was always the guinea pig, always disposable after a few runs.
Handcuffs. Mugshots. Prison sentence for one year. The whole fucking thing.
I couldn’t get a job, obviously. No employer wanted to hire me. My parents didn’t want anything to do with me. I was at my lowest point in my life.
I lost it all. One second turned my home into dust. My parents never spoke to me again. And when they passed five years later, I felt like leaping into the bay.
Every single day, I asked myself, “When they let you out, why didn’t you talk to them? Why didn’t you say you were sorry?”
I was once their pride and joy, their fucking everything. After that, I was just their embarrassment. They died with that idea of me. Now I’ll never be able to turn that around.
The only luck I found was some parole time, and a quick release. I was given a second chance.
Did I know a thing or two about loss? Yeah. I knew enough to make me want to start helping people. I didn’t want to feel that low ever again.
That’s why I left. That’s why I came here. Belleview fucking Bay. It wasn’t too bad.
As the darkness filled the desert landscape, I turned back to my trailer. I walked inside, quietly tip-toeing toward my room. I felt a calming hand on my back.
I turned around. It was Holden.
Chapter Five
Holden
When I opened my eyes, I reached for my bag. I threw on my shoes on in a hurry and ran toward the door. That’s when I looked back and saw the note with the money clipped to the end.
Slowly, I took a step back. I read the note. “Get your truck back.” I sighed and waved the folded up cash in front of me. It felt heavy. I hadn’t held that kind of money in my hand for a long time.
I couldn’t leave him. Not yet, anyway. There was too much back home that I didn’t want to face. And this act of generosity left me absolutely floored. There were good people out there. Riley was maybe one of them.
“I can’t believe you stayed,” he whispered.
I cleared my throat and shook my head with confusion. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the right words. Instead, I threw my arms around him.
I whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”
“Whoa there.” Riley laughed and clasped around me tightly. Yet, it was platonic in nature. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright
.”
I finally let go, breathing hurriedly. Though, a smile was glued to my face. When I looked at the folded lump of cash, I took a step back and bit my lip. “You’re sweet. But I can’t take this, Riley. It’s way too much money. You need it, not me.”
I took Riley’s hand and felt his quickened pulse. He shook his head and pulled away. “Don’t you dare give me that cash,” he said. “It’s yours. I don’t need it.”
“But your restaurant,” I said. “You do need it, Riley. You can’t stay in this trailer forever.”
“You mean in the palace?” Riley leaned against his bedroom doorframe.
He looked so hot at that moment, and I could tell he felt good about giving me the money. “I can work an extra three hours and make it all back.”
I sighed. “Are you telling me the truth?” I asked him.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
I stared at him with urgency. “It matters to me. I don’t like having debt on my conscience. I already have enough,” I said.
Folding his tongue underneath his bottom lip, he thought intently for a moment. Finally, when an idea came to mind, he smacked the wall with his palm. I nearly jumped back with fright.
“How about this. You get some more rest. We’ll wake up at seven, right when the sun is just starting to shine. You can work for me,” Riley said with a sly smile. “I’ll teach you how to run the place.”
I put out my palm and spit into it. I couldn’t deny a job. “Deal,” I said.
Riley looked down and sneered. “Good. But I’m not shaking your hand when it’s full of spit. Get some rest. In the morning, we work,” he said.
I blushed, but I felt good. Not only was I going to get my truck back, but I had a job. A real job, not like the ones shoveling shit at the ranch back home. I could learn how to cook and make my way for myself. And, fuck. Maybe I was a natural chef.
The next morning, we woke up bright and early. Riley walked out of his room, hair unkempt and sticking out, off to the side. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I look like a clown. Don’t I?”
I tried not to laugh, but it was nearly impossible. “Not exactly,” I said, smirking. “You look like a punk rocker.”
Riley signed the devil horns and stuck out his tongue, face turning red. “It’s nice having you around. You at least have a sense of humor,” he said.
“When you’ve been by yourself for so long, you learn to develop one,” I admitted.
On those long highway drives at night, I would put on old comedy cassette tapes. I’d laugh endlessly at their outdated jokes. It was the only pleasure I could get sometimes.
“Okay. First things first. When was the last time you showered?” he asked.
“Rude,” I said, frowning. “Okay, it’s been about a week.”
“No judgment. Been there before,” Riley said. He handed me a towel and pointed toward the bathroom. “Feel free to make yourself at home. When you’re done showering, the coffee should be ready.”
“Coffee,” I moaned, eyes glazing over. “My one true weakness.”
“We’re two birds of a feather, you and I,” Riley said.
I smiled and walked into the bathroom, quietly locking the door. I turned on the water and waited for it to heat up. Two birds of a feather. Well, we did feel like a team.
The more I spent time with Riley, the more I wanted to get to know him. There was already so much depth to him. Like, how did he start cooking? What was the first recipe he fell in love with? And what was his childhood like? For some reason, that was what I wanted to know the most.
I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes, falling into the pleasure of the water’s warmth. It was embarrassing to look like this. When you passed people on the streets, they looked at you like you were filth.
I lathered my body up, running my hands across my body. The soap smelled like Riley, that alpha scent. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I imagined his hands around my hips, cradling me against his strong chest.
Truthfully, I hadn’t had a real boyfriend in years. I hadn’t felt that type of love since, well, forever. I never had someone tell me they loved me. I hadn’t felt close to anyone I slept with. Once they came, I always felt a lingering suspicion that they were unhappy.
They always left, but it wasn’t because of the act. At least, that’s what they said. There was too much going on in their lives. They were going off to college, or they had a work opportunity in a bigger city. They couldn’t stay with someone like me. Most people were just passing through.
Riley was a stranger, no doubt. But he was someone I could spend more time with. And even though I knew our time was fleeting, I wanted to feel close to him. Truth was… I wanted all that he could offer.
I glanced down as my cock began to rise against the hot streams of water. I turned the nozzle off and counted to one hundred, trying to calm myself down. I couldn’t stop imagining his hand coiling from underneath my body, fingers trickling from my cock to my taint to my—
“Everything okay in there?” Riley asked, knocking lightly.
I jumped back in shock, slipping on the smooth shower floor. I tried grabbing something, anything that could keep me balanced. Of course, I couldn’t find anything time. Before I knew it, I was tumbling out of the shower.
First, I knocked my head against the hanging light bulb. Pain shot through the side of my skull, reverberating to my temples.
“Shit!” I cried out, instantly covering my mouth. My shin scraped against the floor. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out in pain.
“Uh, yeah, all good!” I announced after a full ten seconds.
With one hand, I held my head. With the other, I checked myself. Well, I wasn’t hard anymore.
I stood up slowly, glancing at my hazy reflection in the mirror. Even though it was fogged up, I could still see how red my cheeks were getting. A trickle of blood fell from my thigh.
“Sorry to knock. Coffee’s gettin’ cold,” Riley said.
I threw the small towel around my waist and quickly exited the bathroom. “No worries. Sorry that it took so long,” I said.
I tried not to limp, but it was almost impossible. Plus, I could feel the lump on my forehead start to grow.
“Jesus, what happened?” Riley lurched forward and placed his warm palm against my wound. He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Holden, you slammed your head hard. One second. Let me get you something.”
“No, it’s fine. I—” But Riley had already ran to the freezer to grab an ice pack for me. I felt utterly embarrassed. Not only did he give me money, he gave me wound-assistance too.
“Hey, no worries. You’re my worker-bee now,” Riley said. “A boss has to take care of my workers.”
I tried not to blush any more than I already was. Riley walked around the counter with an ice-pack in hand. “Here we go,” he whispered, placing it lightly against my flesh. His left hand cradled the back of my head, warmly. “Feel better?”
I nodded. “I’m a little clumsy, I guess,” I said, laughing awkwardly.
“I think I’ve slipped on that same edge there, maybe five times myself,” Riley said. “It’s not too sturdy in there.”
“Right.” I chuckled, humiliated. “The edge. My toe just grazed the damn thing.” I felt the blood trickling down from my leg to my ankle. I tried not to look, but Riley saw it within a second.
“Fuck!” Riley cried out in horror. “Oh my God. Honey. You’re bleeding.”
Honey? Did he really just…
“Yeah. I’m sorry,” I said, wincing. The pain was starting to sting more now that I could see the actual blood.
“Don’t apologize so much. Here, hold the ice-pack. I’m getting you a bandage,” Riley said.
Again, he ran toward the kitchen. He opened a set of drawers until he finally found a first aid kit. He calmly walked toward me, unraveling the gauze wrap. I was just trying to hold the ice-pack to my head, while clutching my towel in place.
“Oka
y, I’m going to put some alcohol on the wound. It’s going to sting a little, so brace for it,” Riley said, grimacing.
I looked down, but not fast enough. He put the alcohol on the wound. Immediately, the stinging sensation seemed to swell. I staggered back. This time, I was able to balance, but my hand let go of my towel. I lurched back in shock and horror.
Riley’s eyes widened as I dropped back onto the couch, legs spread. His pupils seemed to grow, and he wasn’t looking away. My mortification was through the roof. This was worse than any nightmare I had as a child of going to school without any clothing on.
Riley finally closed his eyes. He put his palms in front of his body. “I’m not looking. I didn’t see anything,” he said.
My hands flung toward my cock. To my dismay, my shaft was pushing high up into the air, hard as a thick arrow. How much did he see?
The whole thing, probably. Now, the mystery was gone. There was no going back from this.
I grabbed the towel and sat back down on the couch. I placed a pillow over the center of the fabric and took a few deep breaths. Riley slowly opened his eyes. “All good?” he asked.
“Sure. All good,” I said, annoyed.
“I promise you. I saw nothing,” he said, trying not to smile.
“I know what you saw,” I said, eyeing him very carefully.
For a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he whispered, “Well… what did I see then?”
I gulped. Suddenly, my throat felt heavy and tight, like I had just swallowed a boulder. I hesitated before choking out the words, “My… my…”
Oh, God.
“Cock,” Riley said, slowly. The harsh clicking “ckkk” sound, coming from his tongue pushed against the back of his mouth. It sent shivers throughout my body, and I was unable to sit still.
“Give me that,” I said, taking the gauze and wrap from his hand. I applied the bandage myself and carefully dug through my bag, still holding the pillow firmly in place.
Riley merely laughed, a hearty chuckle resonating from the center of his manly chest. Yes, he saw me, but part of me wanted to smile back. I wasn’t as confident as Riley, and I didn’t know how to go about this.