by Cameron Dane
Don’t think about that right now. Only think about the next two days here with Alex and helping him.
Hunter settled into the bench and waited.
* * * *
An hour later, Hunter watched Alex approach, his long stride and blond hair already familiar. Hunter stood, ready when Alex reached him. “It went okay?” Hunter asked, even as he fingered the tension lines bracketing Alex’s mouth.
“Yeah.” His arms crossed tightly against his chest, Alex glanced back at the prison. “It went all right. My mother seems” -- he shrugged very stiff shoulders -- “broken up about losing Mack, but okay.” As if becoming aware, Alex uncrossed his arms and rolled his shoulders. At the same time, his bloodshot gaze found Hunter’s, and held. “She says she hasn’t slipped back into any of her vices since his death.”
“Good.”
“I suppose.” Alex stood on his own two legs, but he occasionally swayed, reminding Hunter how little the man had eaten recently. Dark smudges under Alex’s eyes tugged at Hunter too. Alex’s voice cracked a bit as he said, “I really want to go home now.”
“I’ll drive.” Hunter tucked his arm around Alex’s waist and guided him toward the parking lot. He couldn’t control the ache in his heart when Alex leaned against him and didn’t fight his lead.
* * * *
Later that night, Alex stared straight up, trying to lose himself in the spinning overhead fan and the shadows the dim lighting cast on the popcorn ceiling. The air conditioning unit whirred, filling the living room with a low hum, but nothing could distract Alex from the sealed envelope he fidgeted with in his hands.
Not even Hunter, leaning against the recliner some short three feet away, drew more than Alex’s occasional glance. Even in the humidity of a June night in Georgia, the man still wore a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweats to sleep. Or when pretending to watch TV, as he did right now. Alex had yet to see Hunter naked or even just without a shirt on -- barring that brief glimpse of skin he’d gotten the night he’d witnessed Hunter burning himself. Not that Alex had made any attempt to catch Hunter in a state of undress during this time, but rather it just occurred to him right now it hadn’t even happened by accident while crossing paths to and from the shower. Nude is apparently no longer a natural or comfortable state for him.
Mack had rarely shown his lower body out in public either. At home, though, once he’d gotten used to a younger Alex tagging behind him everywhere, he’d allowed Alex not only to see where the doctors had amputated his legs right below the knee but had let him feel the ridged scars too. Mack had also shared that he’d stepped on a mine in Iraq during the first Gulf War, and that worse than the initial pain had been the insanity of waking up in a triage unit twenty hours later to find half his legs gone.
Alex squeezed his eyes shut. Mack. He covered his face with the sealed letter, as if doing so would hide from Mack the tear leaking down the side of his face and into his hair.
The blankets near Alex’s hip stirred. A moment later, Hunter broke the silence. “I could read it for you, if you want me to.” He gently guided the envelope away from Alex’s face and took away Alex’s hiding place. Hunter’s eyes held the rich warmth of dark chocolate, as they so often had these last few days. “You’ve already visited your mother, so you obviously think Mack’s letter is more than an instruction to talk to her. If you didn’t, you would have opened it already.”
Holding the letter at arms’ length, Alex put a laser stare on it, as if looking hard enough might help him glean some information about its contents. “Even if it doesn’t have anything to do with my mother, I’m still glad I went.”
Throughout his entire stilted visit with his mom, Alex could still see the pretty, young girl who’d loved her kid even if she rarely made the best choices for his safety and well-being. That young woman still called to Alex and made him want to jump on her bed to wake her up for a fun day of play. At the same time, Alex relived the days and days when she hadn’t come home, no word from her, and his teenage confusion, anger, and terror that his only legal parent had abandoned him. Both versions had left their marks in different parts of Alex’s soul and psyche. A practical adult now, Alex made the choices and ran his life, so he tried not to let those childhood voices guide his current decisions.
Alex found Hunter’s gaze and clung to it as he’d done repeatedly since learning of Mack’s death. “I don’t think my mother and I can ever be close again,” he admitted, “but she did keep a roof over my head for all the years before the gambling took over her life. Mack stepped in then -- before that, really -- and I have her to thank for that too. If he hadn’t found something about her so dynamic and compelling that he couldn’t stay away, he never would have moved in and eventually become the foundation for my life.”
“So then why are you afraid to open his letter?”
“I’m not afraid.” Alex pushed up to lean against the couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, he held the letter by the top corners, his stare locked on the tiny chicken-scratch scribble of his first name. “It’s just…” The more he stared at Mack’s awful handwriting, the tighter his chest constricted. “It’s just…” Alex found Hunter again, desperate for something solid and real. “This letter will be the last new words Mack ever speaks to me, you know? After this” -- he tapped the white envelope -- “it will all be memories. There won’t be anything new. He’ll really be gone then.”
“True. But I’d imagine if Mack took the time to write this note to you, he would want you to read it.” As Hunter spoke, a clap of thunder erupted and shook the walls. Within seconds, heavy sheets of rain battered the windows, making it sound as if thousands of miniscule pebbles hit the house. “I doubt his intentions were for you to tuck it away somewhere so you never have to hear his final good-bye.” A bolt of lightning zapped right outside the window just then, making it seem as if something otherworldly put an exclamation point on Hunter’s thought.
Alex narrowed his stare at the sudden storm outside and then dropped his focus to Mack’s note. Did you do that to make your agreement with Hunter clear? Immediately Alex chuckled. Oh God. I’m losing it now. He looked between the window and the letter. Hunter’s comments penetrated, and Alex realized he didn’t need divine intervention to do the right thing.
“You’re right, Hunt.” Alex nodded, grateful. “He wrote it because he wanted me to read it.” Biting the bullet, Alex slipped his finger under the flap and tore the envelope open. The moment he pulled out the single folded sheet of paper, the rain softened to a gentle patter. As Alex unfolded the note, he lifted his gaze to Hunter again. “May I read it to you?” he asked, a combination of shyness and pride making him a bit unsteady.
Hunter settled his elbows on his raised knees. “I would be honored.”
Alex exhaled, trying to shake the thumping, crazily erratic beat drumming in his chest. “Okay.” He saw his name at the top of the page and somehow successfully fended off a fresh set of tears. “Here we go.
Dear Alexander,
I don’t have much money, and you have too much, so I know you’ll understand why I split what I had among the veterans’ charities that do such good work for people like me. I think you would like that.
For a long time I thought the only thing I did right in my life was my time in the military. I thought that was the one thing I’d feel pride in when I died. I was wrong. I think I did right by you. You’re a fine man today, and I think maybe I had a little something to do with that. I want you to have my dog tags and my uniforms. It seems only fitting the two best things I did in my life should be together. As to the rest of the stuff, donate what you can and toss the rest. Don’t feel bad or sick about throwing my stuff away. I’ve given you the only things that mattered to me.
You know I hate mushy stuff and all that sentimental crap, but always know this: I love you, Alex. You gave me someone to care about and take care of when deep down I thought I was all used up and only fit for the trash. Your mama loves you too. She thinks about you
all the time and always asks how you’re doing. I know you didn’t want me to, but whenever I went to see her, I always let her know everything going on with you. If you feel like you can, give her a chance when you’re ready. I don’t think you’ll regret it.
I’ll be watching out for you from heaven. Here’s some more sentimental crap, except with you I’ve discovered it isn’t crap after all. No matter where I am, I’ll always be in your heart, and you’ll always be in mine.
All my love, and most importantly, my respect and admiration,
Mack
“Wow,” Alex whispered. He looked up through a blur and found Hunter wiping tears too. “So that’s what he wrote.” Possessed, Alex ran his fingers over all the words, as if doing so would allow him to absorb the sentiment in another way. “I should have known he’d pull out all the stops in the end.”
Hunter loudly cleared his throat. “That’s a good man. He put everything down on paper for you so you could read it whenever you need him.”
Staring down at this display of love slipped Alex backward in time. “He was only like this with me one other time in my life.” Alex glanced toward the hallway and could see his skinnier, younger self folded against the wall on the floor. “I did something stupid I thought would end up killing our relationship. Instead, in a weird way, it somehow made us closer than ever.”
Stretching out on his side, Hunter asked, “What did you do?”
It was the last time I took a leap without knowing where I would land.
“I was twenty and home from college for Christmas.”…
* * *
…Late into the wee hours of Christmas Eve, Alex carefully turned his key in the lock, determined to surprise Mack with his presence on Christmas morning. Alex hadn’t thought he’d have enough money for a plane ticket home, and Mack couldn’t afford to help him either. But in the last week, a side investment Alex had gambled on outside of his schooling had paid off. Alex had stumbled into a bidding war for that bargain property -- a decaying strip mall he’d purchased with a loan he figured he could turn a modest profit on at best. Now he had enough money to make a couple of good property investments next year, as well as a bit left over to modernize this house for Mack. All while still working toward his degree. He continued to excel in his courses, he’d finally bought himself a beat-up, used car…and ever since Thanksgiving, he realized he was knee-deep in love.
God. Alex breathed in and let the familiar scents of Mack absorb into his being. I missed you so much.
Alex set his bags down by the front door and moved through the house in the dark. He knew all the footpaths in this house and couldn’t wait to tweak the joint to make it easier for Mack to function. Of course, Alex would be home more to make things easier too. He had already looked into transferring to a very respected university in Atlanta. It didn’t have ivy covering its brick walls like the college he attended now did, but then again, his current school didn’t have Mack within driving distance. That’s what matters most.
Soft strains of Christmas music streamed from Mack’s room. Alex stepped over the threshold to find a side lamp still on and the TV airing a choral holiday special. He switched off the television but left the low light on. Mack liked to be able to see in case he had to maneuver into his chair to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
The man in question lay asleep on his back, and the sight of him so peaceful drew Alex to the bed. Mack’s raven hair stood out in sharp contrast to the pure white bedding, and the breadth of his thick, bare shoulders showed proudly with equal prominence against the crisp white comforter. Beauty slept inches from Alex, and Alex’s heart lurched with the need to share the bundle of new feelings living inside him. For Mack.
On Thanksgiving, Alex had looked across the dinner table -- just the two of them trying to make the day special -- and realized everything he wanted sat less than a dozen feet away. Mack had shifted from dependable and attractive to downright sexy in Alex’s eyes. For the rest of the three-day weekend, Alex had lived in fear Mack would look at him and figure out the truth. In the four weeks since, Alex had not only come to accept his feelings but embrace them. He loved Mack. He wanted a life with the man -- any kind he could get. He would accept friendship in shared quarters but just knew if he could take care of Mack and become everything he needed, Mack would realize Alex was special too and they were meant to be together.
The more Alex looked, the more his fingers itched to touch. He ached to show his love and wanted something permanent and real. Strands of dark hair fanning across Mack’s forehead called to Alex, and he needed to connect so terribly he didn’t fight it. Alex brushed the backs of his fingers across Mack’s forehead, so tentatively at first, and just sat staring in wonderment where his hand touched Mack’s silky hair. Still sleeping, Mack nuzzled into the contact, and Alex’s heart soared.
“You sweet man.” Alex grazed his fingertips across Mack’s soft lips. “You have no idea how much I love you.”
Mack suddenly gasped and blinked, revealing his pale, lovely gaze. “Alex.” He pushed up onto his elbows. “What are you doing here?”
“I came home for you.” Drowning too fast in this man he loved, but unable to stop the flood, Alex leaned in and kissed Mack on the lips. The moment their mouths came into contact -- Mack’s lips warmer and softer and more incredible than Alex had even fantasized -- Alex moaned. He slashed his lips across Mack’s again and kissed him harder, desperate to take a deeper taste of someone he loved who loved him back. Mack opened his mouth, and Alex wanted that very thing so much he shoved his tongue inside, completely not processing the mumbles coming from the man beneath him.
Mack reared into his pillow and turned his head. “Alex. Alex.” He clamped his hand around Alex’s shoulder, pushing against Alex’s attempt to kiss him again. “Stop it.”
“No, it’s okay.” Alex peppered kisses over Mack’s cheek and part of his forehead, anywhere he could peck to show his feelings. “I promise it’s okay, Mack. I love you.” Every bit of history between them welled in Alex’s heart and mind, and he blurted, “I know you love me too.”
Mack whipped his head around. “No, Alex.” Cool fire burned in his pale eyes. “Not in that way.”
Panic clogged Alex’s throat. “You can’t say that. You don’t know because you’ve never tried.” Fear of losing this relationship before it even started had Alex scrambling. “I can do things.” Always make a sound case. Just like Mack taught you to do. Use it on him. It hit Alex. Yes. Alex didn’t need firsthand experience with Mack to already know his body. “I can do things you’ll love. I know how to make you feel good.” Alex’s heart slammed against his chest, and his hand shook like hell, but he reached down between Mack’s legs. “I know how to make you come.” He dipped down and kissed Mack again just as he pushed his hand inside the man’s underwear.
Mack exploded. “Stop it!” He reared upright, but Alex stayed with him, frantic to get Mack hard so he would understand they could have passionate sex as well as love between them. Alex closed his hand around Mack’s shaft, but Mack only shoved and shouted, “Stop it now, Alex! Fucking get off me!” He rammed his fists into Alex, slamming Alex in the shoulder and chest with knockout-worthy force, and sent Alex careening over the side of the bed.
Alex hit the hardwood floor with a jarring thud. Acute, radiating fire flamed up from his tailbone and shot a line of liquid fire up his spine -- all of which thrust him headfirst back into reality. Alex blinked, first to get rid of the spots, only to then have his vision clear and see Mack on the bed, obviously very agitated, adjusting his underwear.
“Oh my God.” Alex covered his mouth, gagging as the first wave of bile threatened to come up. “You’re the best person in the world, and I took advantage of you.” Alex could still feel his fingers around Mack’s penis. Only, his brain now registered Mack beneath him, fighting him the whole way. Alex suddenly wanted nothing so much as to cut his hand off so he never again experienced phantom sensations of the horri
fic thing he’d done this night.
Alex couldn’t bear to look Mack in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.” He choked back the loss crushing his soul. “I won’t come near you ever again.” He rolled over blindly and tried to get his feet under him, but he shook too much and fell back to his knees.
“Alex!” Metal crashing into wood ricocheted behind Alex. Mack cursed and called out, “Wait!” but Alex didn’t dare obey.
I can’t. Alex crawled on all fours, the front door and the oblivion beyond his only goal. He didn’t know what he would do once he got outside; he just knew he could never come back to this house. No. Alex slipped on the slick hardwood. The second his knee went out from under him, a hand closed around his ankle and yanked him back into the hallway. Mack pushed Alex against the wall and held him there with a hand to his chest. Alex kept his focus on the floor. He didn’t know if he would survive seeing hatred or disgust in Mack’s eyes.
Mack pulled himself to sit in front of Alex. “I told you to wait, damn it.” Surliness edged his tone. “My chair got away from me, and I goddamn had to claw my way across the floor to get to you.”
“Don’t look at me.” Alex buried his face in his hands, his body shuddering with shame. “I’m disgusting.”
Once again Mack shared a string of foul words. He grabbed a tuft of Alex’s hair and yanked him out of hiding. Suddenly his stare seemed a deeper, even more piercing blue. “I don’t want to hear you saying that kind of shit about yourself.” His mouth twisted as he struggled to right himself directly in front of Alex. “You’re too smart. You know better.”
“I attacked you. God” -- Alex looked over Mack’s shoulder to the disheveled room beyond, and an awful, broken noise ripped through him -- “I might have done something terrible to you if you hadn’t stopped me.”