Caught in the Middle

by Kira Barker

  “Do you think you’re the first of his subs who cracks and ends up falling for him? I’ve seen this exact thing happen more than once. Don’t believe me? Ask him. Ask him what made those girls lose it in front of a room full of strangers, or what turned moderately confident women into clingy, weepy shadows of their former selves. And while we’re at it, ask yourself why you give me those wide eyes whenever I mention the attic. Is what you have right now really a strong, healthy relationship? You did call me first.”

  For several seconds flat, all I could do was stare at him, and just as I found my voice again, he suddenly reached across the table and caught my hand, his fingers warm and gentle. From one moment to the next his face crumbled, clearly visible pain replacing his arrogant jeering from before.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you with what I said. I know, I acted like a stupid prick last week, but you should have seen yourself. You were completely out of it—shell shocked, your eyes all red and blotchy. And then I saw the marks, and I pretty much lost it. I’ve been along for a few of his sessions and I know what it takes to leave bruises like that. Seeing you like that scared the shit out of me. I don’t know why I said what I did yesterday. I guess I was still pissed at your for being so dense. You’re not like this normally, and you wouldn’t even hear me out, so I figured maybe giving you some of your own medicine might finally wake you up, make you see him for what he is and what he isn’t. I know that Simon is a good guy at heart, but that side of him turns him into a misguided—”

  He stopped himself there, and the sigh he added was almost a hint too theatrical, yet the pain in his eyes was real.

  “I just can’t stand the thought of you becoming like any one of those girls. I get that after years of sexual frustration, everything you do with him is exciting to you, but in the long run, do you really need that? Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who’s here for you any hour of the day, any day of the week, without any rules or reservations?”

  With my thoughts reeling, and not just from confusion, it was hard to find an answer, particularly when he was still turning those puppy dog eyes on me.

  “You mean someone like you?”

  My voice was hoarse and unfamiliar in my ears, and sounded strangely hollow. Jack’s answering smile warmed something deep inside of me that had been in turmoil for the past days, but it also made me want to pull my hand out of his and wipe it on my pants leg.

  “For instance,” he offered, but it came out with enough satisfaction to leave no room for guessing.

  In more ways than one I felt like someone had sucked all of the air out of the room, leaving me gasping for breath without being able to draw any oxygen into my lungs.

  “Jack, I…” I started, but trailed off when words just didn’t want to come.

  His smile turned a little sad, but there was still a hint of satisfaction to his face that was so at odds with everything else.

  “I don’t need an answer right now. I don’t need an answer, stat. Just some food for thought. Maybe now that you understand where I’m coming from, you can see things a little more clearly.”

  I understood nothing, but I didn’t say that. I was both relieved and sad when he let go and settled back more firmly into his chair. Feeling like things weren’t right between us had upset me, but listening to his reasoning now didn’t help me sort things out. That he had dropped a few bombs in there that I absolutely didn’t want to think about only made it worse.

  “Are you going to keep this up now? Voicing your misgivings, I mean, whether anyone wants to hear them or not?”

  He made a face, but didn’t look away.

  “Would it make a difference if I did? Trust me, I’m not particularly fond of pissing you off, or Simon. You’re my friends, but that’s why I care. And I have nothing against you getting your rocks off in whatever way, but I don’t want you to get hurt. Do you really get that much out of being his plaything? You weren’t quite so out of it when you kept things on a more random basis, like when you started out.”

  “That I’m a little under the weather has nothing whatsoever to do with Simon, or what we do in the attic. And you haven’t exactly helped yourself.”

  “You certainly weren’t this strung out when we were fooling around on the lake.”

  “I didn’t know back then that I was losing that fellowship I’ve been working toward for years without having any idea of how I’ll provide for myself once my residency is over!”

  Jack’s mouth snapped shut, and for a moment, he looked genuinely guilty.

  “Seriously? That’s the fellowship you’ve been talking about for ages? Hasn’t your boss told you on various occasions that you’re her first choice?”

  “Doesn’t really matter when they’re booting my boss, too, now, does it?”

  “Shit,” he agreed. “And if you apply for a fellowship at another hospital? Or skip a year?”

  “If they change half the staff, they won’t be happy to have anyone they want to be rid of hanging around. I called a couple of hospitals today, some still take applications, but I’m late. I can maybe, temporarily, moonlight in their ERs, particularly on weekends and for the night shifts, but like any temp job, that’s hell. And I really need that fellowship to finish my trauma care specialization, or I might as well throw in the towel.”

  “Did you tell Simon?”

  That question surprised me, and I shook my head after only a moment’s hesitation.

  “Not yet. It’s my job, my life, and I’m not obliged to tell him about every single detail of it.”

  Jack didn’t react for a second, then offered me a concerned if warming smile.

  “If you need anything, you know that you can always count on me. I don’t really have much cash stashed away, but I can help you if you need some to cover the rent. Or, you can always move in with us for a couple of months—it’s not like we actually need all that space in the house.”

  “Count on you to be there for me like I could count on you yesterday?”

  On some level I was grateful for his offer, but the simple fact that I might even have to consider it made me desperately defensive.

  “If you would have called me a second time, I wouldn’t have acted like such an ass.”

  That irritated me even more.

  “Like what, first you let me down, then you count on Simon to let me down, too, so you can swoop in and collect the shattered bits and pieces? And you still have the gall to accuse him of pulling a number on me?”

  Some of his previous arrogance resurfaced, but Kara chose the very best moment to return, with Simon trailing behind her. That made me wonder if they’d had a conversation of their own, but as long as this evening would be ending soon, I didn’t care. Thankfully, Kara had had about enough of awkward interactions for the night, and less than twenty minutes later, we left the venue. I half expected Jack to go home with her, but she informed me with a wink that she was dropping in on Dan for a surprise visit. Apparently his country club membership still trumped broody sex, or maybe she’d had enough of Jack for the week.

  Simon looked at me expectantly then, and I couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his uncommonly uncommunicative behavior. I was used to sifting through possible insults from him; silence wasn’t anything I was familiar with.

  “Look, I know we still have to talk—” I started, just as he said, “Are you going home, or do you want to come back with me?”

  I blinked, not sure if I’d actually heard right, or if this was just another case of him meaning something completely different than the rest of the world understood. I considered for a moment, but shook my head.

  “I’m tired, and it’s a lot closer from my apartment to the hospital than from your house. Rain check?”

  He didn’t look particularly disappointed, which made me guess that he’d intended it as a jovial offer of companionship rather than anything more intimate. So much for wishful thinking.

  “You’ll call me?” he asked. “Or just come over so we can s
it down and talk.”

  That sounded kind of ominous, but then I had been a little flaky on my replies the past couple of days.

  “I will.”

  I wondered if I should have added that after next Friday I would have more time, but it was bad enough that I’d already lamented to Jack. Simon nodded and looked away for a moment, as if trying to remember something.

  “About next Friday,” he began and scratched his head. I felt something in my stomach knot. Did he know? I was sure that I hadn’t randomly babbled about it last night, and he’d been away from the table when I blurted it out earlier.

  “What about it?”

  He seemed a tad irritated, probably at my tone, but then offered me a cute, boyish smile.

  “You remember—my book launch party is in the evening? I asked you a couple of weeks ago if you’d come, but you didn’t have your schedule yet. So, can I count on you, or do I have to fend off the spitting critics all on my own? The official launch may be four days later, but I’m sure that my publisher has been giving away review copies like candy.”

  That rang a bell, and made me feel guilty for completely forgetting about it in the first place.

  “Of course I’ll be there. I’m on for night shift that entire week, so it should be no problem.”

  “It’s in the evening,” he pointed out, sounding a little as if he was explaining something to a small child.

  “And I don’t work Friday night, just the night before that. I might even be moderately awake for it. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, suddenly standing a little too close. Not that I felt like protesting, but with Kara and Jack only a few yards away, talking quietly between themselves, it was strange somehow.

  “So I guess I’ll walk you to your train, then?”

  “I’ll take the bus from here—it’s faster. And I’m not that tired yet, so I think I can find my connection,” I huffed. “I might look like a zombie, but I’m actually still moderately alert.”

  Why that gave him pause, I didn’t know, but the moment passed and he shrugged.

  “As you wish. Guess this is goodbye, then.”

  Now he was really starting to freak me out.

  “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

  That I had the urge to ask that unnerved me, and Simon seemed perplexed himself, which in turn made me relax a little.

  “Why are you asking?”

  I was probably just paranoid, and the way Jack kept gloating from behind Simon’s back made it worse.

  “Forget I said anything. I’ll call. Promise.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  I nodded, then wished both Kara and Jack a good night. I didn’t miss the look on Simon’s face, but as I really didn’t know what to make of it, I had no intention of obsessing over it. Likely, this was all just in my head, anyway.

  But, try as I might, and I did try, the entire way home I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d somehow missed something incredibly important.

  Chapter 15

  As my last morning in the hospital rolled in, I had to admit that I was somewhat underwhelmed. Not that I’d expected anything spectacular to happen—or for anyone to organize some kind of “we’ll miss you, the time together was awesome!” bash—but something should have been different. Not just the same routine of checking one last time on my patients, of making sure that the day shift people knew what to do with the patients that had come in during the night, and topping up the coffee depot as a small thank you to the nurses. Sure, I got a smile or two and had to promise to come visit in the future, but by 7:30 a.m. I found myself holding a box containing the meager belongings I’d kept stashed in my locker, and not even a T-shirt saying, “all I got for my trouble is this lousy T-shirt.”

  Besides the typical fatigue after spending most of the night on my feet with only two half-hour breaks to catch some shut-eye in between, it could have been any other morning. My bed certainly sang its usual siren song, but I decided that instead of heeding its call, I went to a coffee shop, ordered the largest foamy atrocity on the menu, and sat down to browse the emails Kara had been flooding my inbox with during the night. The first critiques of Simon’s book were online, and what better way to start the day than by amusing myself with someone else’s shit-shoveling?

  About half an hour in I had to stop, mostly because I’d spilled coffee over my hand and shirt twice, laughing so hard it wasn’t funny anymore. I hadn’t read the final version of the book but spent enough time around Kara and Simon’s near endless discussions of the different drafts, so I thought I had a pretty good grasp on both the story and the utter lack of a message Simon had intended to impart with it. As he’d claimed on more than one occasion, it was simply a story he wanted to tell, full of sordid details and characters who excelled at making the wrong decisions. Half of the reviewers now lauded it because it supposedly settled the score with society in a most acerbic way. Others called it pretentious bullshit. Knowing Simon, he would roll his eyes at the former, get angry at the latter, and not let any of that actually affect him. I knew I would have been pissed if I were him as one of the reviews actually made me want to email the critic and ask him what had crawled up his butt and died there. Guess there was a reason why I had a job where my work was judged by the patients’ survival rates, not whether I’d made an artistically valuable incision.

  It had been three days since I’d last had a chance to touch base with Zoe, and things hadn’t looked particularly good back then. She’d promised again to get back to me as soon as she had something for me, but that was all I got. One of the hospital admins from across town had gotten back to me about moonlighting in their ER or clinic, but their budget cuts had boarded up that possibility for the time being, and there wasn’t much hope for that to change by the time I finished my residency. They’d need someone to draw blood and change bedpans, but would prefer a qualified nurse instead of an uppity surgeon for that. Not that she’d told me this in so many words, but it had rang true. The worst thing about it was that three times already I’d gotten the same reply—if I’d applied three months ago like every other soon-to-be-finished resident, they could have easily found a place for me. I’d gambled without even realizing just how high the stakes were, and I now found myself sorely wanting to kick my own ass.

  Eventually my coffee was finished and all the reviews were perused, and I found myself with nothing but time on my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had no clue what to do with myself.

  I considered hitting up Kara, but the last social media update from her was only hours old, so she was likely asleep, and unlike me she didn’t perform particularly well running on caffeine alone. Besides, I had a certain feeling that I’d need booze to get through the book party tonight, and Kara was the kind of woman who thought last days at work warranted mimosas for breakfast, and I couldn’t do that to my liver right now.

  Marcy was at work, and I didn’t particularly feel like calling Jack. We’d sent a few texts to and fro over the past couple of days, but I couldn’t just swallow my misgivings about him like that. He was enough like a brother to me that I’d already forgiven him his brief, misguided stunt as wannabe knight in shining armor, but that didn’t mean that I felt like being around him so he could continue harassing me.

  It was kind of sad to admit, but that left Simon as my last remaining social contact, provided I didn’t want to ring up family, which I certainly didn’t. It bothered me that calling him felt like a last resort, but we still had that outstanding talk to get behind us, and even if he was busy, I could always catch up on sleep on the couch while he was working. If I was physically around, I was sure that eventually, temptation would become stronger than his need to hit his daily word count, and maybe that would make me feel a little less like I was floating in a vacuum.

  I wasn’t overly concerned when he didn’t pick up and decided to just try the house. I knew where the spare key was should no one be at home, and the guys ha
d never complained about me crashing there—on the contrary. I still grabbed a box of bagels, just to make sure that my welcome would be a warm one.

  Half an hour later, I strolled up to the front door and found it unlocked, a very promising prospect.

  I was surprised when I heard voices in the kitchen, but then it was late morning only, and sometimes Jack worked from home, thanks to his company’s dedication to always abuse their employees wherever they may roam. It made me doubly glad that I’d brought my offering of food with me.

  That was, until I walked into the kitchen and felt as if I’d been sucked into an alternate reality.

  At first glance, everything was harmonious and nice. Jack and Simon were both busy preparing breakfast, chatting amicably while cutting this or fetching that. As befitted what could have been a lazy morning, they were both dressed casually in shorts and T-shirts, with Jack, as usual, having to show off while Simon seemed to have grabbed the next best clothes that weren’t in too dire a need of washing. In short, your typical bachelor roommate situation.

  Except that it was not. Something felt way off, and before I’d even kicked off my shoes and set down my bag and box, my mind started collecting clues.

  The first thing that tipped me off was that they both looked fresh out of the shower, hair still damp. For Jack, that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, but Simon was not a morning person, and unless Jack had somehow forced him into joining him for a run, I doubted that anything could have made him shower just because most people thought it part of their morning routine. The only exception to this that I knew was a session up in the attic, as apparently sex trumped morning grumpiness any morning. I sincerely doubted that Jack would go anywhere near the playroom, though, and the idea that Simon had somehow pulled a new sub out of his imaginary hat wasn’t even anything I considered.

  Clue two was that neither of them seemed particularly wary around the other, which was definitely an improvement from the dinner of awkwardness Wednesday before last. I had to admit that they’d had more than a week to patch things up between them, and while Jack had proved that he could be a first-class asshole, I doubted it was his goal to drive a wedge between him and Simon over something that I denied was even an issue.