“There’s no mystery to solve, Ark. I’m just…” She lets out a long breath of air. “I’m just…”
She doesn’t finish. And I’m not gonna push. I got a good enough start. “Come here,” I say, slipping my hand under her waist and pulling her up to my chest. “You earned this at least. I’m not gonna smack you around to make you come, but I’ll keep you warm.” She’s quiet and still in my arms. I count the seconds and as they tick off, I begin to regret prying into her past. “Good enough for you?”
“He died.”
Fuck.
“That’s what happened to us. He died of some weird blood disease. I’m not even sure what it was. Something exotic that could be fixed if they caught it in time. But they didn’t. We were on spring break our senior year. We had this public service requirement for graduation, so we were in this small town in Arkansas with no hospital. And by the time they realized he needed a real emergency room, it was too late. He died in the ambulance on the way. I was holding his hand when it happened.”
I wait for her tears, but they don’t come. She’s cried twice when JD’s fucked her. But admitting that her first boyfriend died holding her hand gets me nothing.
Why? I need to know. I need to know what she’s thinking.
She tries to get up but I hold her tight and she gives in, settling back against my chest. I count her breaths and they are even and deep.
Was it a lie?
I don’t think so. No, that’s not why she’s calm. That’s not why there are no tears. She’s just turned it off. She’s a good little liar, but it’s not me she’s lying to. It’s herself.
“You can ask me a question,” I whisper. “If you want.”
She’s silent for so long, I take that as disinterest. And I’m just about to close my eyes and try to fall back asleep when it finally comes.
“Who is the person you love most in this world?”
“That’s easy,” I tell her. “JD.”
“Why?” She turns her body so she can look at me. “Why do you love him if he’s a bad guy?”
I shrug. “Because you gotta love someone.”
“And he was just there?”
“Yeah, he was just there.”
“But now he’s more than just there.”
“Now he’s the only person in this world I can trust. He’s the only person in this world worth saving when the shit goes down. He’s the only person in this world who won’t fuck me over.”
“How do you know that, though? How do you know he won’t?”
“Because he loves me.”
“But you’re not gay?”
“Blue, please. It’s not the same kind of love.”
“Maybe so. But you could try.”
“Try what?”
“Try loving us together.”
“Why do you need two men?” I ask. “Why isn’t he enough?”
“I told you. I don’t feel safe unless I’m surrounded.”
I give her a little squeeze. “My arms aren’t enough for you to feel surrounded?”
She says nothing after that. And it’s not so she can think up her answer, it’s just because she’s got no answer. She doesn’t know why she needs us both. JD doesn’t know why he wants me to share her. I don’t know why I’m refusing.
Principle, I guess. She’s mine, anyway. She was mine the moment I saw her.
“I know where JD went yesterday. Where he’s going today, too.”
She doesn’t answer. Maybe she’s asleep.
“And it’s not good, Blue. I’ll share you if that’s what you want. But only because JD will never be able to give you what you need.”
“How do you know what I need?”
“You already told me. You need Jimmy Laszlio.”
“It’s Laslos, not Laszlio. And he’s dead. So if he’s what I need, then I’m good and fucked.”
“Not the Jimmy Laslos, Blue. But a guy like him.”
She thinks about this for a moment. Serious, thoughtful consideration. “A guy who is the complete opposite of you and JD.”
“Yup. We’re just gonna fuck you up more if you stick around.”
“Well, then I look forward to it. A person can never be fucked up enough in my book. My fucked-upness is the only thing I’ve got going for me at the moment.”
I let that settle as the last word on the matter. What do I care, anyway? I’ve got her in my bed. Naked. I’ve got my arms around her. I got her to admit something personal. And when the sun comes up in a few hours, I’m going to take enough pictures of this girl to get me through a lifetime of loneliness and regret.
The tub slowly fills with water and with each rising inch, the sorrow takes over. Maybe it’s just a delayed reaction to the shock of the beating. Or maybe it’s the realization that I got away. But I don’t think so.
I think the sadness comes from losing hope. From giving up. From surrender. Sadness feeds on reality, that moment when you realize you can’t win—not the war, not the battle, not even a street-corner fistfight.
Am I giving up?
Ark’s footsteps are soft as he crosses the room. I can see him out of the corner of my eye as he enters the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
I’m taking a bath. But that’s not what he means and I know it.
“Don’t you think you should go look for him?” I look up at Ark. He stands tall and nude. His dick is long and semi-hard, hanging between his legs. His chest is muscular in a way that tells me he lifts. And his face…
Ark’s face is the stuff you masturbate to. His two-day-old beard is hot in a movie-star way. His dark hair and dark eyes don’t say dangerous, they say sexy.
He is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. He is the opposite of JD. And that’s not saying JD is ugly. Not at all. JD is charming. And cute. And hot. In all the ways that Ark is not.
They are like night and day. Dark and light. Maybe even good and evil.
“He’ll come home on Thursday, for sure.” Ark steps into the tub, pushing my body so I lean forward, and then he slips into the water behind me. “He won’t miss work.”
Who is this man?
How did I get from where I was to where I am?
Why do I constantly have to ask myself this question?