Broken Rules

by Jade Buchanan

  I will not see you again, my son, but I go to Christ now, and I will intercede on your behalf to him. I would give up my life for yours, you are the flesh of my body, and I will love you until the end of my days and beyond.

  Do not hate me, please. Do not look on me with disgust or with anger. I know that I failed you, but I feel that I have earned my punishment. God has punished me for my sin against you. For my sin is, and always will be, worse than yours. You were still a child when you turned from God, but I turned from my only son. That sin has always been mine. Forgive me, I beg you.

  Do not hate your father, either. The wound has already been delivered,

  but you must rise above it. The hate will only fester inside you, and you are a greater man than that. You will do great things, I know it. You are perfect the way you are. And I will always love you.

  Mom.

  chAPteR eight

  Through the closed door he heard the sounds of voices. Sounded like more people were here. He sat down on the bed, the note futtering to the ground.

  Someone knocked on the door. "Jonah? Buddy?" Henry's voice was soft, concerned.

  He couldn't breathe. Shouldn't this hurt? What was he supposed to feel right now? Grief ? Anger? Sorrow? Nothing? He felt nothing. It was like his heart had just been carved out of his chest and it was lying on the ground… crushed beneath the last words of his mother. He couldn't deal with this, couldn't even think about it or he would crack.

  Jonah cleared his throat. "Be right out," he called out to Henry.

  Looks like his time was up. Finding another shirt, he quickly pulled it on, smoothing it down his chest. Taking a deep breath, he met Henry outside the door.

  "You okay?"

  "Stop asking me that." He rubbed his chest. He still felt empty; how long would this last?

  "Right, forget I said anything. Okay, go get 'em kiddo."

  Jonah laughed, probably exactly what Henry was trying for. He had to act normal, didn't want anyone to suspect. What was he supposed to say anyway? "You're an idiot."

  "Yep. Don't know why Rita married me. I swear."

  "Jonah, you poor poor thing. How are you doing, sweetie?"

  Tensing, Jonah resisted the urge to finch. Great, he didn't want to deal with his Aunt Louise right out of the gate. He was supposed to warm up to the trouble relatives.

  "Aunt Louise!" He was immediately immersed in a cloud of perfume and soft woman.

  "You poor child. How are you handling yourself ? I'm just devastated, devastated, I tell you."

  He glanced at Henry, looked behind his cousin-in-law to see Neil come in the door and spied his escape. "Yeah, me too. Aunt Lou, Henry here was just saying he wanted to show you the house."

  Henry jerked, wide-eyed.

  "Oh, you poor thing, Henry. How are you holding up?" She turned her embrace onto Henry, squeezing him tight.

  Jonah tried not to laugh, but the glare Henry was now sending him over the shoulder of Jonah's great-aunt was nearly priceless.

  Neil steered clear of Aunt Louise as she passed him in the hall with a death grip on Henry's arm.

  "That was mean." Neil's voice was flled with suppressed laughter. They both watched as Henry tried to extricate himself from Aunt Louise while he showed her into the living room.

  "Hey, when times are desperate, you do what you gotta do."

  They both grinned at each other, moving into the kitchen. He looked around for the beer he'd abandoned before going into his room but couldn't fnd it anywhere. He wanted to get drunk. Rip roaring, stinking drunk. Tabarnac, that was his dad, right there coming in the back door. Fuck, he didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to see him. His dad—the reason he was forced to leave. The reason his mom had… no. He wasn't going to think about her. Not tonight. Not ever.

  "Jonah, how are you?"

  Jonah turned at the voice, seeing his cousin and his wife. He hadn't seen them in so long. "Comme ci, comme ca. Neil, you remember Baubrey and Aub?"

  Neil snorted, quickly covering it up with a cough. Jonah thought back over what he'd just said. Tabarnac.

  "Hey there, Aubrey, nice to see you again. Barb, you look good."

  "You charmer, Neil Brogan. Just the same as ever. Why, oh why, hasn't some sweet girl snapped you up, yet?" Barb practically attached herself to Neil's side, smiling up at him.

  "Oh, you know me, Barb. One of these days, maybe. I'm having too much fun right now to settle down, though. Too young, you know."

  Jonah smiled wanly, listening with half his mind to Neil's chit chat. He didn't want to be here. Fuck ostie, he didn't want to be here. Neil touched his arm, capturing his attention. Barb and Aubrey had already made their way past them. He hoped they hadn't said anything else to him that he'd ignored. Although, Neil would have saved the day, if they had.

  "Please tell me I didn't call them Baubrey and Aub."

  Snorting again, Neil shook his head. "I can't do that, buddy. Did you see the look on his face?"

  "Crisse, every time. Every time I see him… he must think I'm an idiot."

  Throwing his arm around Jonah's neck, Neil hugged him close. "It's okay. You're a cute idiot, so people make concessions."

  Jonah shivered at the feel of Neil so close to him. Snapping out of it, he threw a punch at Neil's side, shaking his head when his friend dodged him, laughing like a loon.

  Glancing up, he caught the tail end of his father's glare. He could practically hear the censure in the old man's gaze. Shrugging off the look, he gave his father his back.

  Neil sobered up, studying him intently. Jonah had the urge to fdget. "Seriously, you okay?"

  "I can't be here."

  "Okay. Let's go out back."

  And just like that, Jonah felt the pressure in his chest ease. Neil led him to the sliding doors in the kitchen, picking up two beers before they both stepped out onto the back porch. It was dark out, the lights turned off. Closing the door behind him, Jonah sighed at the instant peace as the noise from inside was muted. He made his way over to where Neil had lowered himself to the deck, his feet dangling off the edge. Sliding down beside him, Jonah accepted one of the beers, popping the top and taking a long swig.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "Not really." He didn't know what to say to him anyway.

  "Do you remember when we were little?" Neil's voice was pitched low.

  "What?" He kept his gaze on his hands.

  "We used to come over to your house, and your mom would herd us into the kitchen and make us help her prepare dinner."

  "I remember." Of course he remembered, shit, his mom had brought it up in the letter, hadn't she? Apparently it was one of the reasons he'd turned gay. At least, it seemed that's what his mom thought.

  "I used to be so jealous of you."

  "What?" He didn't know what Neil was talking about. Turning, he faced his friend.

  Neil smiled gently. "My mom did everything for us, but she never let us in the kitchen. I used to be so jealous that you got to help your mom out like that. She was so cool about it. Remember when she let us make mystery drinks?"

  "I remember."

  "Whatever she did, Jonah. Whatever happened… she loved you. Don't ever think otherwise."

  Jonah sniffed, wiping a hand over his suddenly watery eyes. "You don't know what…"

  "I don't need to, unless you want to talk about it. But, I know what I saw back then, and I know what I saw in your mom's eyes every time I saw her since you left."

  Words came bubbling up inside his chest. He wanted to say something, wanted to confde in Neil so badly. But he couldn't. What could he say? He didn't dare tell his friend the truth. Neil wouldn't understand, and what if it made him turn from Jonah like his parents had? He wouldn't be able to bear it.

  Jonah stared into Neil's eyes, captivated by the strength he could see in the other man. He wanted that, wanted that assurance that everything really would be okay. Neil seemed like he had it all together and here Jonah was completely falling apart. He wanted to
forget it all for just one perfect moment in time. He leaned forward, closing the few inches separating them and laid his lips gently against Neil's. Moaning at the burst of pleasure inside his chest, he deepened the pressure, slanting his mouth over his friend's. Neil tensed, one hand coming up to press against Jonah's chest before his lips frmed.

  Oh! Oh, merde. What had he done? What had he just done? Tearing his mouth away, Jonah sputtered, trying to come up with something, anything to explain away the kiss.

  "Jonah—"

  "Damn beer. God, man, I'm so-sorry b-bout that. I… uh… I have to…"

  "Jonah?"

  He fed back into the too bright house, past the streams of people trying to give him their condolences. He couldn't take it. He didn't want to… What the fuck was wrong with him? Tabarnac! What was wrong with him? He knew better. He really did.

  "Jonah? Hey, Jonah, you okay?"

  Panicked, Jonah whirled away from the steadying hand, spying Henry to his left. "Fine, I'm fne."

  "No you aren't, cuz. Come on, let's get you out of here."

  Jonah let Henry lead him to the master bedroom, sitting him down in the chair at the foot of the bed. "Now, you stay in here." He turned on the TV, handing the remote to Jonah. "No one will bother you, I swear. Holler if you need me, okay?"

  "I will. Henry?"

  Henry turned back, his hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

  "Thanks."

  "Don't mention it. Now, you get some peace and quiet in here. I'll let you know when they all leave, 'kay?"

  Jonah nodded, distracted. When he was fnally alone, he lifted his hand to touch his still tingling lips. What was he going to do now?

  chAPteR nine

  Neil touched his hand to his lips, staring after Jonah's retreating fgure. What the hell had just happened? Had he leaned in or had Jonah? Was that… Jonah was gay? Or, had that just been a mistake? Had he meant to do that? What the hell?

  He stood up slowly, trying to fgure out what to do next. He didn't know what he was feeling; he was uncharacteristically frozen, unsure. That was Jonah, his buddy Jonah. Was the kiss just because of the beer? Hell, he didn't know how much Jonah had had to drink, so maybe it was because of that. He hadn't smelled like alcohol, though, and Neil had seen enough drunks over the years to see the other signs.

  Was Jonah just stressed? Confused? Reaching out to anyone to make him forget what he was going through? Or was that because he was attracted to Neil in some way?

  Running a hand down his face, Neil decided he was cutting himself off from the booze. He needed a clear head for this. He should go after Jonah, but he still wasn't sure what to say to him. Did he even need to say anything? Would it be better to just let it go and see if Jonah said something to him? Yeah, that seemed like the best idea… but Neil wasn't going to let this go. They may not have seen each other in ten years but they'd been best friends growing up. You didn't just forget a friendship like that, and Neil wasn't going to let Jonah go without a fght this time.

  Maybe that was it. He was still pissed Jonah had just disappeared. Obviously there was more to the story than he'd realized at the time, but friends just didn't take off without a word of explanation. Neil was starting to see a different picture now, and he wanted to know more. He needed to know more.

  Mind made up, Neil opened the screen door, making his way back into the house. He nodded at a few familiar faces, craning his head to see if he could spot Jonah in the crowd. The little house was packed with people, both locals and family that had driven in for the funeral. It was still a couple days away but he couldn't blame them for coming up early to grieve together.

  A quick glance around the kitchen and living room showed his quarry had disappeared. The place was still packed so he was fnding it more diffcult than he'd thought it would be. Who knew he'd lose someone in this tiny house?

  Winding his way back to the kitchen, Neil gingerly stepped down the stairs leading to the basement. He had to place his sock feet in between the dozens of shoes lined up at the small landing by the back door. They had spilled up the four steps leading to the kitchen and about halfway down the stairs to the basement. He had to shake his head. The sight of all those shoes lined up at the door brought back so many memories of when he was a hell of a lot younger and Jonah and he would sneak around at their parent's parties, trying to match up the shoes to their respective owners.

  Reaching the basement, Neil sighed. No Jonah. Okay, where the hell had Jonah gone? Had he gone back to his room? Okay, maybe it was time to give up his search and just fnd Jonah tomorrow. As long as he tracked him down before he left for Calgary. Neil was bound and determined to sit Jonah down somewhere and fnd out the truth about his friend. He didn't care if Jonah was gay, hell, it wasn't like Neil hadn't been with men, but how was it possible that he'd never known? When did Jonah come out? Was he out? Groaning, Neil pushed open the bathroom door, quickly turning on the tap and running his hands under the spray of water. He splashed his face, leaning over the sink for a moment.

  He needed to talk to Jonah before this weekend was over. If Jonah knew Neil was bisexual maybe it would make a difference. If all of this was because Jonah was gay then a simple discussion would fx everything, wouldn't it?

  Reaching for a hand towel, he straightened, his head marginally clearer. He just needed to sit somewhere and think about what this all meant. He'd enjoyed their kiss, he wasn't going to lie. But what did that mean for him? For them? He wasn't going to lose Jonah again. He didn't care if Jonah went back to Calgary, Neil was going to keep in touch this time. Whether Jonah wanted it or not.

  "So, you a fag too?"

  What. The. Hell? Neil turned toward the door, surprised at the sight of a very drunk Michel Chevalier. Christ, he didn't need this. Wait, what did he just call him?

  "Excuse me?" Neil straightened fully, crossing his arms over his chest, not even bother to hide his scowl.

  Michel listed to the side. "Want to fuck that little fairy? Or maybe you like taking it, son. Wonder what your old man would think of that."

  Neil saw red. Clenching his fsts, he lowered his voice. "I think you've had too much to drink. It's time for you to go home and sleep this off. I know you're hurting right now and that's the only reason I'm going to ignore what you just said."

  "Why bother? We all know the truth. I saw you up there, touching my boy, your hands all over him. It's disgusting. And him! Throwing it in my face again, just like before with that fruity bar boy. His mom is rolling over in her grave, ashamed that he came from her."

  Okay, that was enough. "Michel, I've asked nicely. It's time to leave. Now." He started to walk forward, smirking inside when Michel stumbled back. He'd dealt with drunks before, and he wasn't going to let Michel ruin everyone's night. Michel needed to grow the fuck up and start acting like an adult. But if he didn't have the pride to do it on his own, Neil was more than happy to help him along. He silently herded Michel up the stairs, knowing he should be embarrassed at using his bigger size as an intimidation tactic but not really caring right now. Hell, he wasn't going to lay hands on the man, he just wanted him gone.

  Bending over, Neil grabbed Michel's shoes, recognizing them as the same ratty pair he'd owned forever. Christ, and wasn't that depressing that he recognized Mr. Chevalier's footwear? "Get out."

  "You can't kick me out! This isn't your house." Michel was practically foaming at the mouth now, his newfound bravado peaking out.

  "I'm doing you a favor, Mr. Chevalier. Leave. Now. Before I decide to call one of the guys from the Temiskaming Detachment to bring you in for a D&D."

  A movement out of the corner of his eye alerted Neil to a witness to their exchange. He didn't say anything, merely waiting for Michel to leave. With a few muttered grumblings Neil chose to ignore, Michel fnally threw on his shoes, wrenched open the back door and tried to slam it closed. Neil grabbed the edge of the door before it could close, wincing at the pull to his shoulder. He quietly shut the door, fnally turning to see who had joined them at t
he last minute.

  Henry blinked back at him from where he was standing in the kitchen. The four steps between them disappeared as Neil trudged up them, shaking his head when Henry opened his mouth.

  "Thank you."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "I don't know what to do with him. Rita-Anne is determined to see the good in him, but the man is getting on my last nerve," Henry whispered, glancing behind him, obviously aware of how close they were to the rest of the folks still here.

  Hell, Neil would be lucky if no one had overheard their little exchange in the basement. Fuck, Jonah didn't need that. He didn't care about himself, but Jonah didn't deserve to have people gossiping about his sexuality now of all times. Although…he rolled Michel's words around in his mind. Was that why Jonah left right out of high school? Had Michel walked in on something he shouldn't have? And what did he mean by bar boy? Surely he wasn't talking about Rich. He was the only one Neil could think that could possibly ft the description. Rich wasn't gay, though. Christ, was he? He hated this fucking place for making so many people hide who they really were. What? It would be some colossal sin to actually admit you were attracted to the same sex?