Us fools, p.14
Scratch The Surface, page 14
I watched how people looked at me, saw the pity on their faces, heard them talking behind my back. “Poor Jeremiah, his mother abandoned him, and now he’s all alone.” The end of November through the first of January was to be endured, never enjoyed. But maybe, just maybe, this year would be different. If Cameron kept his word, I might have a place to be this year.
“It’s gonna be okay, Chey,” I soothed her, hugging her tight as Rita appeared beside her.
I let her go, and she stepped aside as Rita passed me my envelope.
“I put some extra on your check, Jere, because I know you, and I know your pride won’t let you take a demotion, or take the assistant manager spot from Cheyenne.”
She could have let me take Brent’s spot, but since I couldn’t work for Merrell anyway, it had all worked out the way it was supposed to.
“So the offer from the holding company, did you use that to sweeten the deal with Merrell?”
“I––yes.” Judging by the look on her face, I’d surprised her. “How clever of you to have deduced that.”
Like it was hard. “Well, good for you, Rita. I hope you and your family are pleased with this. Maybe Lance will take off for parts unknown now.”
“Oh no—” She chuckled. “—Lance will stay on and cook.”
She was deluded. There was no way in hell. Her son had been looking for a sign, and he’d just received it in big neon letters. Merrell was out a head chef, and he had no idea.
“Okay.” I wasn’t there to debate, so I took my envelope, checked the figures, and saw she’d paid me for twelve weeks of vacation time instead of ten. “Thank you, Rita, that’s very generous.”
Her face crumpled and she grabbed me. It was a surprise. I knew she liked me, but I had no idea how much until that moment. “Jeremiah, honey, please don’t disappear from my life now. Please come by the house and say hello, and when I see you on the street, don’t turn the other way.”
“I would never do that,” I assured her, hugging her back as she kissed my cheek. “You and your family kept me from being homeless; you made sure I ate, and made it possible for me to go to school. I will always stop and see you whenever I’m in town.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, easing back to look at my face. “Where are you going?”
“It makes sense for me to find a job closer to school, so I’m gonna work on that. But I promise, when I’m here, and if you’re around, we’ll have us a nice chat.”
She broke down crying then.
I eventually made my way back to the office to collect the few things I had there, deciding to leave the poster of the white sand beaches of Maui, when I turned to find several of my coworkers waiting for me. I was surprised so many wanted to hug me, and when I walked out to find Cheyenne and give her my keys, she cried all over me.
Standing at the bar, thinking about how I’d started there as a barback, I realized how weird it would be to never again walk behind it and serve drinks. So strange that such a huge part of my life had come to such an abrupt end.
Meeting Lance’s gaze across the room, I made a cutting motion and then tipped my head at him. I got a nod in reply and knew I was right. He was so gone.
I was walking out the back when I heard my name and stopped at the door. Merrell was there, scowling at me, arms crossed.
“Good luck with all this,” I told him. “I hope it all goes well, for you and for the town.”
“And that’s it? You’re done with a place you’ve been working at since you were what, fifteen or something? Just like that.”
I shrugged. “I won’t work for you, Merrell. You had to know that.”
“Why would I know that?”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s no job for me anyway.” I turned toward Zack’s ancient Ford, ready to drive away from Kingman’s for the last time.
He moved fast, grabbing my bicep to keep me from leaving. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Who do you think I was planning to have take over as general manager? I want you to run the restaurant; that was the plan.”
But he was lying. That couldn’t have been the plan, because a couple days ago he had wanted me to run the counseling center he was going to build. And now, out of the blue, he wanted me to manage his restaurant? How could he say these things with a straight face?
“You need to give this opportunity some real thought.”
On the one hand, staying would be a great idea. I had the payout from the Bowens I could tuck into savings, and could manage the restaurant, live off the salary that went with it, and maybe, for once, get ahead on bills instead of playing catch-up every month. It made sense to take what was being offered, a job I could do in my sleep, and nothing would change. Everything could stay the same, except I’d be better off.
On the other hand, the offer of employment came from Merrell Barrett. Whatever else he felt about me, it was clear there was some guilt, which I didn’t understand. It was misplaced, and he owed me nothing. Everything between us had been settled ages ago. I wasn’t mad that he’d left and never spoken to me again. I considered us, and whatever dysfunctional relationship we had in the past, to be over and done. But there were questions, like was his offer a handout? And was it fair to take a position I knew would be temporary? I wanted to do something else with my life, and I couldn’t give Merrell the hours he would need from a general manager, so was that fair to him or the people banking on the continued success of the restaurant? It felt like he was trying to pay some ancient debt I didn’t even consider he owed.
Taking a breath, I eased my bicep free, took a step back, and stared at him. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t—what are you talking about?”
“First you wanna give me my dream job at your new counseling center, which I’m not yet qualified for, and now you want to offer me the general manager spot here at Kingman’s? What the hell, man?”
He parted his lips to say something, but Rita Bowen was at the door calling him back inside to talk to some of his new employees. “I’ll be right there,” he answered, and when she retreated, after waving to me, he took a step closer. “Could I come by your place and speak to you? Would that be all right?”
I grimaced. “I don’t know that you want anyone seeing you at my apartment complex. I live on the other side of Mulberry, and it’s a little rough down there.”
He glared at me. “Just give me your address and stop making excuses not to talk to me.”
“Why don’t I meet you at your place?”
“I don’t have a place yet. I’m still living in the pool house until my house is renovated, and there is absolutely no privacy there.”
“Then I can meet you by the––”
“For fuck’s sake, we’re not in high school anymore. Just let me come to your apartment like a grown-up.”
“Yeah, but you can’t be seen in a shitty part of town or—” I gestured at him. “I mean, you have an image.”
“Yeah, how ’bout man of the people?”
“How about slumming in a bad part of town known for drugs?”
“For the love of God, Jere, you want to talk to me, I want to talk to you. Let me see you.”
But I didn’t want to talk to him. That was the problem. We had nothing to talk about other than whatever he needed to get off his chest. “I’m not tryin’ to be a dick, but why don’t we not talk,” I suggested. “And you don’t have to worry about whatever this”—I gestured between us—“is. Like ever.”
“Fine,” he growled. “I want to talk to you. I have things to say. Could I do that, please? Or do you want to keep fighting with me about it?”
“Whatever,” I groused at him. “It’s the Meadow Park apartments, unit D. But when your chief of staff or whoever has a seizure, don’t blame me.”
His face lit up with a smile, and he was Merrell Barrett, quarterback, captain of the Barrett Crossing Pirates, all over again. “I will be there in thirty minutes or less. Wait for me.”
I was going to say something snarky like, “Where would I go at a quarter to one in the morning?” but instead I settled on, “Of course,” and left it at that.
My apartment complex was on a divided road across from a vacant lot. To the right was a liquor store I tried never to go into because you had to walk through a gauntlet of meth addicts, drunks, and prostitutes to get through the front door. On the left was a motel where all the rooms faced the road. All night, every night, there were people going in and out, because it was where the drugs and hookers were.
Rolling up to the ancient gate in Zack’s truck, I stopped and punched in my code. I knew it was supposed to be some sort of deterrent, but it opened and closed so slowly, an entire conga line of people could walk in or out at any given time. I got yelled at by a few of the guys at the liquor store, because that’s what they did, and I ignored them and drove in, the gate chugging shut behind me.
My spot was empty tonight, which wasn’t always guaranteed, so I pulled in, threw the truck in park, and was getting out when I noticed two guys beating up someone over by the dumpsters.
Since there were mostly couples in my complex, a few families, and only one guy I gave a wide berth to, mostly because I knew he had more than one gun in his apartment, I was pretty sure they were either guests or had hopped the fence in the back. Jogging across the lot, I finally got close enough to see it was three guys, not two, and they were beating on one of my neighbors.
“The hell are you doing?” I roared, charging up behind the first guy and driving him face-first into the cement wall of the building.
“Jeremiah,” Savannah Hornsberry whimpered. She was lying on the pavement, bleeding from her nose and mouth.
“Mr. Hornsberry!” I yelled. “Mr. Hornsberry!”
One of the men pulled a knife, but I wasn’t a kid anymore. I had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, so I got into my stance and took the knife when the guy came at me. He was holding it wrong, blade up instead of down, so disarming him was easy, as was sending him crashing into the side of the building.
I was focused on the other two coming at me and was surprised when someone hit me in the face with a punch that would have leveled me if he had hit me straight on instead of at an angle. The fist glanced off my jaw and mostly caught me on the collarbone, but the fact remained I’d missed that there were four men, not three.
Falling back into the grass, I covered my head as they kicked me in the sides.
“Run, Savannah!” I ordered her.
“Get her,” one of them snarled, and when he moved, I scrambled up and punched the guy closest to me in the balls as hard as I could. His scream was loud.
I heard Mr. Hornsberry bellow his daughter’s name from somewhere behind me, and felt a moment of relief. He always waited up for her, and I knew if I yelled loud enough, he’d hear.
Then I took a hit to the back of the head and there was only black.
10
Cameron
It was Saturday morning, and my father was being released from the hospital. My mother told us she wanted to pick him up alone, and instructed us all to meet at their house for brunch. Since I lived a little over a half hour from my folks, I figured I’d call Jeremiah on the way to say hello, but when I got out of the shower around eight, I couldn’t wait and decided to call him while I got ready. I knew he didn’t have to work until later, and he said he never slept in, even on the days he went in late.
“Hey,” he greeted me, his voice gravelly and low.
“Crap, I woke you up, didn’t I?” I chuckled, knowing I’d messed up, but was happy to hear him even if I’d need to let him go back to sleep.
“Yeah, but I was hoping you’d call, so that’s okay.” He sounded almost like he was drunk, but it was very early for cocktails. Maybe he was working a hangover.
“You don’t sound so good,” I went with instead of assuming he was mixing vodka and orange juice for breakfast, or had gone on a bender the night before.
“It’s the painkillers.”
I jolted, bumping my dresser. The towel I was still wearing around my waist came loose and drifted slowly to the floor. That fast, I was scared. “Painkillers for what? Where are you?”
“I’m in the hospital hooked up to this stupid IV. I want it out ’cause it’s a pain in the ass to take to the bathroom with me.”
“Yes, I’m sure it—why are you in the hospital?” I was terrified of the answer.
“Officer Kramer told me I got hit in the back of the head with the butt of a gun.”
“Who’s Officer Kramer?”
“A policeman.”
“Yes, I assumed that, but how did you and Officer Kramer come into contact?”
“He arrested the guy who knocked me out.”
Ah. “And when was this?” I questioned, breathing through my nose, working to stay calm. It was hard to be far away. I needed to see him, feeling the same compulsion to go to him as I’d had to see my father when I got the news about his heart attack.
“Last night. Two—no, wait, three. No, four. Yeah. Four guys beat the shit outta me.”
In and out I breathed, slowly. “Could you perhaps start at the beginning?”
Heavy sigh. “Man, it’s nice to hear your voice. It’s so pretty, just like you. Say something sexy, like schedule or spreadsheet.”
He was so out of it. “It’s nice to hear your voice too. Now tell––”
“I wanted to talk to you so bad, but nobody would call you, even though I asked ’em to.”
It was terrible that I was going to have to murder everyone who hadn’t listened to him. “Honey, when was this?” I asked, the endearment slipping out.
He whimpered a bit, and I heard him sniffle. “I think when I was on my way here. I remember being in the ambulance, but maybe it was a different one. I’ve been in a lot of ’em, and sometimes it’s hard to keep track. You know, this one time my mother had a boyfriend who hit me with a––”
“No, no, no,” I choked out, not ready to hear about how some man had beaten up a sweet little boy with soft, trusting golden-brown eyes, who had to be taken to the hospital because the injuries inflicted on him had been dire. “When did you tell people to call me?”
“Last night. I asked everybody who came in, even Mer, but he didn’t. You know, I’ve been through a ton of bad stuff in my life.”
He was definitely drugged, and sticking to one topic seemed problematic. “Yes, I know.”
“And people think it only got bad after my mom left, but that’s not true. It was bad when she was with me too.”
Someday, down the road, when he’d been mine for a long time, then I would ask to hear all his secrets, and he could divulge them in chronological order. But not today. Today I would break down, and that would do him no good.
“She didn’t…protect me like mothers are supposed to. She let things happen to me.”
I took my phone and sat down on my bed, bringing his face to mind, his square jaw under the soft beard, his kind eyes with smile lines at the corners, his straight nose, thick brows, dark fringe of lashes, and the hair kicking out at his nape. He was beautiful, but more than that, I’d seen what was under the surface, the heart he hid, and knew the reason he protected it was because of his mother. She’d allowed him to be abused, and it was gutting me.
My mother would kill to make certain I was safe. She’d take a bullet, fall on a grenade, anything to keep me or my brother or my sister safe, and even now, if she saw my ex, Troy Fortney, walking alone on a dark road, I didn’t like his chances if she were driving. Imagining Jeremiah abandoned and betrayed hurt down deep.
“When she left, I was kinda relieved, but then I had to take care of myself, and there’s only so many ways you can do that when you’re fourteen.”
I kept quiet.
“But I did a lot of stuff, bad stuff, and I did it alone. I’ve been by myself for so long, except for a few people.”
Those who had punched through his defenses, I was sure. Strong souls who saw what I did, a man worth having in their lives.
He was quiet then, and I meant to say something encouraging, to keep him talking, sharing, but I couldn’t find the words.
“But just because I’ve been alone doesn’t mean I like it.”
Oh. Not what I was expecting. “No?”
“No, I—see, people reach out and invite me to their homes for stuff,” he clarified, his voice, like his mind, sort of tripping along. “Like, I get invited over for the holidays. I don’t want you to think I’ve never been asked to spend Thanksgiving anywhere.”
Of course others had invited him. Why would they not?
“People from work have invited me, people from class, and I bet Merrell, who was here, he probably would ask me too, and we were supposed to talk last night, but I got hit, so he came to the hospital instead.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s his parents. They don’t know we know each other.”
He was talking in circles and made zero sense. “Who’s Merrell?”
“He’s the newly elected mayor of Barrett Crossing. He gets to take charge in January, I think, but I don’t know the exact date.”
“I don’t––”
“This is a secret, but back when I was a freshman and he was a senior, he paid me to give him blowjobs.”
I could have lived my entire life without ever learning that tidbit of information. “And now he’s the mayor of your town?”
“Yep.”
“And he’s there with you now?”
“He was, but he went home to shower. And this is weird, but Kingman’s was sold. I guess the Bowens were in talks to sell it—the whole stretch of road—for a long time. You and the others coming by the other day, that lit a fire under his ass, and he pulled the trigger on the deal. Crazy, right?”
I wanted to be there with him at the hospital holding his hand, and mostly I wanted to tell Merrell whoever that he could stay home because I would take care of Jeremiah Wolfe. I could feel the panic starting to settle in and—wait. “Lit a fire under whose ass?”
