ready?”
Jake’s expression is curiously blank. “Sure.”
With that, he slides off his stool and holds out his arm for me to precede him. My father’s disdain is palpable. Jake’s apathy is, too.
I start to walk off with Jake, but Daddy grabs my arm before I can leave him and this humiliating conversation behind. “He’ll be through with you once he gets what he wants, Laney. Don’t waste your love on someone like that.”
Before I can respond, Jake does. “She won’t waste her love on me, sir. I’m unlovable. But you should trust her more because I’m sure
she’s
not.”
With a palm to my lower back, Jake urges me on. I keep my eyes straight ahead as we walk, avoiding all the accusing stares of the town folk. In their eyes, my father can do no wrong. But now I can.
My hands are shaking by the time we get to my car. “Here,” Jake says, taking the keys from my fingers. “I’ll drive.” He opens the passenger-side door for me then walks around and slides in behind the wheel. “I knew we should’ve brought the Jeep. What are you, an elf?” He has to scoot the seat back as far as it will go just to accommodate his long legs.
I don’t respond. I’m still too shaken by that run-in with my dad. I’ve never stood up to him that way, and I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with it. I don’t want him to think badly of me, but I also don’t want him meddling in my life so much. He’s got to let me go eventually.
I’m also embarrassed by the things he said to and about Jake. I know I should apologize or something, but I don’t even know where to start.
When Jake has started the car and pulled onto the main road, I give it a shot. “Jake, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says abruptly.
“But I
am
worrying about it. I never wanted—”
“I know you didn’t. I get it. You think your dad is the first father to disapprove of me? Hell, my own father hated me. Why should yours be any different?”
His voice drips with bitterness, but something tells me that there’s more than that just below the surface, that somewhere deep down, he’s hurting because of it. But what am I supposed to do? Or say? I hardly know him. How can I comfort someone I don’t know? Over a situation I know nothing about?
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I assert weakly.
Jake’s only response is a single harsh bark of laughter.
TWELVE: Jake
L aney’s worked quietly all day. And I’ve let her. She’s got some shit to sort out on her own. She doesn’t need my help. And I wouldn’t know how to help her anyway. I suck at family issues. Actually, I suck at family
period
. Whatever part of me that might’ve been good at being in a relationship of any kind died with my mother a long, long time ago. I’ve learned since then that “stick and move” doesn’t just keep you from getting punched in boxing; it’s a philosophy that can help you survive real life, too.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to give Laney the wrong idea. That’s not what this is about it. It’s not what
we
are about. I don’t want her getting attached to me. Have some fun, yeah. Have some sex, hell yeah. But get attached? Not a good idea. I’m not the kind of guy she needs.
It’s getting close to dinnertime now, though, and I’ve got a mission to tend to—get Laney back in my bed tonight. And under me.
I figure it’s just a matter of time before she says it wouldn’t be right for us to share a room. What do I say? Bullshit! That’s a cop-out. If she wants to stop being a good girl, she can start with me. I’m about as good at bringing out the bad in a girl as a man can be.
And bringing it out in a woman like Laney will be the sweetest of all.
My phone rings as I cross the yard to the back door of the house. I glance at the Caller ID and see the department’s main number on the screen. I stop and hit the green button. After a few short sentences exchanged, I hang up and slide the phone into my pocket.
Just like that, in
Jake’s expression is curiously blank. “Sure.”
With that, he slides off his stool and holds out his arm for me to precede him. My father’s disdain is palpable. Jake’s apathy is, too.
I start to walk off with Jake, but Daddy grabs my arm before I can leave him and this humiliating conversation behind. “He’ll be through with you once he gets what he wants, Laney. Don’t waste your love on someone like that.”
Before I can respond, Jake does. “She won’t waste her love on me, sir. I’m unlovable. But you should trust her more because I’m sure
she’s
not.”
With a palm to my lower back, Jake urges me on. I keep my eyes straight ahead as we walk, avoiding all the accusing stares of the town folk. In their eyes, my father can do no wrong. But now I can.
My hands are shaking by the time we get to my car. “Here,” Jake says, taking the keys from my fingers. “I’ll drive.” He opens the passenger-side door for me then walks around and slides in behind the wheel. “I knew we should’ve brought the Jeep. What are you, an elf?” He has to scoot the seat back as far as it will go just to accommodate his long legs.
I don’t respond. I’m still too shaken by that run-in with my dad. I’ve never stood up to him that way, and I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with it. I don’t want him to think badly of me, but I also don’t want him meddling in my life so much. He’s got to let me go eventually.
I’m also embarrassed by the things he said to and about Jake. I know I should apologize or something, but I don’t even know where to start.
When Jake has started the car and pulled onto the main road, I give it a shot. “Jake, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says abruptly.
“But I
am
worrying about it. I never wanted—”
“I know you didn’t. I get it. You think your dad is the first father to disapprove of me? Hell, my own father hated me. Why should yours be any different?”
His voice drips with bitterness, but something tells me that there’s more than that just below the surface, that somewhere deep down, he’s hurting because of it. But what am I supposed to do? Or say? I hardly know him. How can I comfort someone I don’t know? Over a situation I know nothing about?
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I assert weakly.
Jake’s only response is a single harsh bark of laughter.
TWELVE: Jake
L aney’s worked quietly all day. And I’ve let her. She’s got some shit to sort out on her own. She doesn’t need my help. And I wouldn’t know how to help her anyway. I suck at family issues. Actually, I suck at family
period
. Whatever part of me that might’ve been good at being in a relationship of any kind died with my mother a long, long time ago. I’ve learned since then that “stick and move” doesn’t just keep you from getting punched in boxing; it’s a philosophy that can help you survive real life, too.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to give Laney the wrong idea. That’s not what this is about it. It’s not what
we
are about. I don’t want her getting attached to me. Have some fun, yeah. Have some sex, hell yeah. But get attached? Not a good idea. I’m not the kind of guy she needs.
It’s getting close to dinnertime now, though, and I’ve got a mission to tend to—get Laney back in my bed tonight. And under me.
I figure it’s just a matter of time before she says it wouldn’t be right for us to share a room. What do I say? Bullshit! That’s a cop-out. If she wants to stop being a good girl, she can start with me. I’m about as good at bringing out the bad in a girl as a man can be.
And bringing it out in a woman like Laney will be the sweetest of all.
My phone rings as I cross the yard to the back door of the house. I glance at the Caller ID and see the department’s main number on the screen. I stop and hit the green button. After a few short sentences exchanged, I hang up and slide the phone into my pocket.
Just like that, in
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