As I watch Tax irrigating the wounds on my knee, I try to physically see Sil. He’s transformed so much over the years, that I can hardly see it, even now that I know who he is. But I see Sil in ways that aren’t physical. Tax says Sil’s dead, that there’s nothing left of the sarcastic yet sweet boy I knew fourteen years ago, but that’s not true. I see it in small moments like this. When he doesn’t feel the need to protect himself with aggression. Tax may be hard, but he is not heartless.
“So after it all happened, you ran away?”
“Yes. We didn’t feel safe. As soon as we both could walk, we ran away while my dad was at work.”
“How did you survive?”
“You do what you have to do,” he says. “I hustled. We all did. Jude did things I didn’t want her to do. But like I said, some things change you.” I don’t ask for any details. I can only imagine what had to be done.
“How did you get from that to all this?” I ask. I have to admit, as someone who is ambitious, his tenacity impresses me.
He looks up at me from the corner of his eye. “Someone owed me,” he says knowingly. “There are many ways to pay a debt. That’s all I can say, babe.”
Babe. I love how his throaty, husky voice wraps itself around that perky word and manhandles the shit out of it.
“So, your last name? Draconi?”
“It’s my mother’s.”
“Did you ever find out the truth? About how she passed?”
“My father wouldn’t tell me. After Jude and I recovered, we ran away from home, lived on the street for years. I didn’t have the resources to investigate. But eventually I did. She did kill herself. I don’t know why my father lied. Maybe it was the one nice thing he did. Or maybe he was trying to be even more cruel. I think he was embarrassed. You know our town. Suicide has such a stigma. We were infants anyway. In either version of the story, she dies because of us.”
“Tax, postpartum depression is no one’s fault. It’s a chemical imbalance.”
“But if we weren’t born...”
“No Tax. You are here because you are meant to be. If she never had you, I would never have met the love of my life.” Oh, shit. Sometimes, I am a little too open. Tax has already shared so much, and this word, this little word can be like a bomb, even with an ordinary guy. I didn’t want to drop it like this. Not so soon after all we had just gone through.
The Band-Aid Tax is applying jolts almost imperceptibly, like the word is an invisible gust of wind. He quietly smooths it onto my knee.
I am paralyzed with uncertainty at my choice of words. They were honest, but raw. I should’ve allowed more time for those words to cure before saying them to him.
My heart races, and now it’s me who is stiff and uneasy. He turns to me, his freshly dried, soft, dark hair lays flat so that he looks almost boyish, and kisses me on top of my head. “You’re pretty fucking special too.”
14 Years Earlier
After being informed by the walking piece of excrement that is my father that I would have to tell Sheriff Tibbett a boldfaced lie, I am filled with rebellion. I don’t care if pops chokes me to death, I won’t let those bastards get away with what they did to me, much less what they did to Jude.
A doctor comes in and does a round of tests on me. He proceeds to tell me how “lucky” I am to get out of the attack with no permanent injuries, just broken bones, deep contusions, and a severe concussion. He laments to me that the lacerations were the toughest part, and when he lifts my blanket and unwraps my torso, I understand why. I look like fucking Frankenstein. There are stitches everywhere. Just the wounds on my torso required hundreds of stitches. The doc also tells me I’ll need to stay a few more days for observation, and then they’ll discharge me.
Afterward, I’m left for a few minutes alone, sobbing, Sheriff Tibbett struts into the room in his tan police outfit. He’s got that stereotypical cop stride, with his hips shifted forward and his small belly pushed out. He pulls off his aviators from his nose.
“How ya feelin’ boy?” It’s like he’s asking someone who has a cold, not someone who had been beaten with fists, bottles, boots, belt buckles and then was pissed on.
I wipe my eyes with my less fucked up arm. “Not good. I want to see my sister.”
He sighs and pulls a chair up beside my bed, grabbing a box of tissues and putting in next to me. I don’t touch them.
“She’s resting. They have her sedated to deal with the pain.”
My hands shake with boiling hate for what those animals did to her. Even Huck, that coward who fucked her while he cried. He cried. Like he was the victim. Like he didn’t hold down a defenseless four foot nine girl instead of letting her run to safety when she had the chance.
“Well then when can I see her?”
“After we talk, I’ll get the doctors in here to see what they say.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you everything I remember. And I know more now. Pettit is paying my dad to keep me quiet. The Pettit boys and Huck McKinley and Curtis Collins, they attacked me and Jude—“
“Woah, woah, woah, now slow down and take a breath here, Silvio.”
I pause, understanding he needs a chronological account of things. This includes my embarrassing letter to his daughter. But before I can even debate that internally, he goes on.
“Now, from my understanding, you and Jude assaulted your father after he told you you could not go out on a school night. Then you stole his truck and money and fled the scene. You stopped at the lake to have some beer with your sister and some passersby coming through on an early morning run came upon you two. They heard some rustling in the bushes, like some folks ran away. The runners must have spooked them. You and your sister are lucky.” I wish people would stop using that word to describe us. “We have reports of an unknown vehicle and group of men driving through town just hours before. We think that’s who attacked you.”
“No. I’m telling you I know who did it...and I didn’t steal my dad’s truck. He attacked me, we fought back. And me and Jude don’t drink.”
“I’ve seen your dad’s face. That looks like assault kiddo.”
“Anyway, I know who attacked us...it wasn’t some bandits. It was the Pettits—“
“The Pettits?” He leans back in his seat and sighs. “That’s not possible, kid. They were with their family that night. Huck and Curtis spent the night at the Pettit’s house. We’ve got several witnesses to vouch for that, including their parents. Now, you were hit pretty hard...”
“Are you kidding me? They’re lying! Can’t you test my sister? She was raped.”
“I can’t talk about those details with you, son.”
“But—“
Tibbett leans in, and almost whispers. “Listen, I don’t want to have to press charges on you and your sister. Assault and battery, grand theft auto, petty theft...”
And that’s when I realize the Pettits didn’t just stop at my dad, Tibbett has been paid off too. No one is that stupid, he’s looking exactly where he wants to look. He’s feeding me my story. Everyone who matters is in on this. Jude and I are alone. We are surrounded by people who have been paid to allow our suffering to linger.
“Fuck it,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
Using the bed remote, I lower myself, keeping my eyes trained ahead. The blank ceiling of my hospital room looks just like how I feel inside. “Yeah, it was dark. I don’t know who it was. I just remember walking into the forest and that’s it. They must have hit me right away.”
“Okay.” I notice he doesn’t write anything down, because what I have to say is irrelevant. “We’ve got a APB out for a truck that meets the description of the one seen in the area. We’ll be in touch with you and your dad with any new developments.”
I don’t look at him. I just focus on the ceiling, trying not to blink. But every time I cave in, tears roll down my temples. I wonder if god is punishing me for not praying and using him only when I needed him at the last minute. I promised if we lived,
I would make this right, but he’s going to make doing that as difficult as possible. No one, not a single damn person is going to help us. Not even the law.
Sheriff Tibbett, pushes himself up off the chair and calmly walks towards the door. Before opening it, he turns around.
“Silvio?”
I don’t respond.
“I know you’ve been working with Mia for a project. And I know that’s done now. I want you to leave her alone. Tripp told me you’ve been giving her trouble, getting the wrong idea of your friendship. She’s a good girl. She’s going to college soon. She’s all I’ve got. I don’t want her getting caught up with troublemakers. So, your visits to my home are no longer welcome.”
Look ahead. Don’t cry. Don’t let them see the pain they’ve caused.
The door closes behind Tibbett, and then I am all alone again.
My chest spasms as I let the tears flow.
I’m waiting for Mia to wake. She made me promise I would go for a run with her this morning. I usually get up around seven, and on the days I’m not strength training, throw on some running gear and head out. But this morning, I am up earlier than usual, and Mia looks so peaceful, I don’t have the heart to even touch her.
So I lie beside her, watching her stillness. She sleeps so peacefully. I remember when I used to sleep like that. Ever since Mia came along, I toss and turn a lot. Never have I had so much to lose, and so many reasons to lose it.
I don’t feel bad about killing Tibbett. He was in poor health, he traded justice for money. Aside from my own father, no one else owed me more than Tibbett. It was his fucking job to help the defenseless. But he traded in his ethics for cash. As an adult, I understand better. He had just lost his wife, he was faced with raising his daughter alone. Money does a lot to help with burdens like that. But he wasn’t just anyone, he had an obligation to help Jude and me, and he chose to side with the corrupt. I only feel bad that what I did hurt Mia. I hate that I have to keep this truth from her. But that’s my problem, not hers.
I love looking at Mia up close: her smooth skin, the softness of her curves, the way her dark hair drapes over her bare shoulders. Flashes of that body twisted around mine as I fucked her last night play in my head. Her lips: soft, plump, flush with color. They wrapped around my cock as her tongue swirled around it, making it burst. Her fat tits, with her perfect soft nipples, I love the feel of them in my mouth. Her smell, light and floral, lingers on everything so that when she’s not with me, I find myself thinking about her at unexpected moments. Everything about her turns me on, as if she was created to my specifications.
But it’s not just about sex. Because I don’t want anyone else. I never have ached before when someone walked out the door. I never felt the need to protect. I never wanted to just sit around and do nothing with someone else since the first time I met Mia as a teenager. That is, until I met Mia again.
My phone buzzes with a call from the front desk downstairs. I quietly slip out of bed. It’s way too fucking early for unexpected visitors.
“Hello?”
“Good morning Mr. Draconi. Your sister is here to visit you.”
I can hear her bitching in the background. She’s always had a free pass to come up, but now that Mia’s been spending some nights at my place, I revoked that privilege. Jude’s just too much of a hothead to randomly discover Mia at my place.
“Tell her I’ll be down, but don’t let her up.”
“Yes, sir.”
I look through the heap of clothes on the living room floor that Mia and I left behind last night and throw on a t-shirt and sweatpants. I slip out the condo and head downstairs.
As soon as I spot her, Jude looks pissed. I understand, she’s feeling shut out. That wasn’t the goal, it just had to be done.
“What’s up?” I ask. I haven’t seen her since I threw her up against her wall and threatened to kill her.
“So what’s this now? I can’t even get buzzed upstairs? It’s like that?”
I rub my temples. “No. I just want privacy.”
She sulks a bit. “Why are you doing this?” she asks, tears forming in her eyes. I look around to see if anyone notices our interaction and then pull her by the arm into a lounge area.
“Why are you here?”
“I thought about what you said, and you’re right. We need to look forward. And I was being a bitch. I’m going to give you your space, but I didn’t want to just stop talking. So, I wanted to see how you were doing. Maybe we could go to breakfast?”
“I’m glad you are starting to see my side of things. I would love to go, but I have company.”
“Since when have you ever cared about kicking out one of your hoes?”
“This is the shit I am talking about.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry!” she says. “You’re just acting weird. We haven’t spoken in weeks and you won’t even let me upstairs. Having a girl upstairs has never stopped you from letting me in before.”
“Maybe I am trying to have a healthy normal relationship.”
Jude laughs mockingly. “Okay, I can appreciate this whole new leaf you’re turning, but you’re not going to ever be Ned Flanders.”
“Oh fuck you,” I say, shoving her half playfully. “That’s not what I meant.”
“So, who is she?”
“Huh?” Just then, my phone buzzes with a text. I glance at it:
If you went running without me, you’re dead.
I slide my phone back in my pocket as inconspicuously as possible, trying like hell to hide a smile.
“I gotta go,” I stand up.
“It’s her. Isn’t it?”
Fuck. It’s that twinstinct shit.
“Jude, now is not the time to talk about this.”
She paces away from me, then sharply turns, jabbing her finger at me.
“You said you ended things with her. That was the compromise. She would be gone. You made her miserable. You made her love you and then you left. That’s the only way I can live with the compromise.”
“Not now,” I say firmly under my breath as I glare at her.
Jude snickers. “She must be something else for you to risk our relationship over her.”
“She didn’t do anything. And I’m not risking anything, Jude. It’s you who is.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“You gotta go Jude.”
“So just like that, I don’t mean anything anymore. After everything we have been through together. We used to hang out every day. You don’t need me in your life anymore now that you’re the new Tax.”
“You’ll always be my sister and you’ll always be important to me. Stop being so dramatic.”
“I hate when you call me dramatic.”
“Then don’t be so fucking dramatic.”
“You’re still a fool for her, all these years later,” she says, shaking her head.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Right back at you.”
“Well, on that note, I’m glad we’re talking again and you are willing to change course. Everything is fine. And when I am not busy, we’ll have a long talk about it.”
She crosses her arms and glares at me with disapproval.
“I’ll call you and we can hang out just you and me sometime this week. I’ll explain everything, but I need to go.”
“I can’t believe you,” she says, genuinely hurt. “It’s like you hate me now. You want nothing to do with me ever since she came into the picture.”
“That’s not true. Our issues have nothing to do with her.”
“They have everything to do with her!” she hisses loudly.
“I don’t have time for this shit. We’ll do dinner. We’ll talk. I’m not shutting you out. I promise. I’ll call you and take you anywhere you want for dinner. Maybe we go to Door Country for the weekend or something. Okay? Now I gotta go,” I say, backing out of the lounge.
Jude sulks, arms crossed. “Maybe I won’t be around when you finally have time for me.”
The aroma of coffee hits me as soon as I open the door to my place. Mia’s standing in the kitchen completely naked, waiting on the brewer.
“Well damn,” I say.
“Where did you go?” she asks, leaning over the counter. Her eyes are still puffy from sleep and her hair is a rough mess from all the yanking it endured at my hands.
“The doorman had a delivery issue. I didn’t go running without you. I always keep my promises,” I say, my cock rising as I take in the view of her naked body glowing in the morning sun.
I walk up to her and press against her. The softness of her pillowy breasts rubbing against my stomach makes my cock ache with need.
“We need to run,” she says, pushing away from me.
I grab her ass so hard she flinches. “You know what you’re doing. There is no version of a story where you walk around this condo with your tits and pussy out that doesn’t end in me fucking you.”
I spin her around and bend her over the kitchen island and she gasps as I rub my hand over her wet pussy. “Goddamn Mia, I knew you fucking wanted it.”
I slide a couple of fingers inside of her, and her creamy warmth engulfs them. My dick pulsates in anticipation of being wrapped by her pussy. But I love to tease her. Even if it’s a quickie, there are ways to make her cunt gush for me.
I curl my fingers on her g-spot and she purrs like a fucking lioness. “Stop, Tax. We never get anything done,” she moans, thrusting her hips against my finger. Her protest conveniently simulates her fucking my hand.
I glide my fingers out, they glimmer with her pussy juices and I pull her up by the back of her neck, using the slickness of my fingers to rub the tip of her fucking gorgeous tits. She curls her body against mine, groaning from the back of her throat. I grab a nipple and stretch it out as she lets out this sexy fucking whimper that makes my cock flinch.
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