Nine

Nine

Jude

I wake with the sun and slide out of Max’s bed with practiced ease. He looks cute, sleepy and warm. A part of me doesn’t want to leave him. But I’m not the breakfast kind of guy.

So I scribble a quick note before gathering my clothes and leaving the apartment as quietly as possible.

As soon as I’m in the elevator, my phone buzzes, and I pull it out, almost hoping for a text from Max. But it’s Dominic.

Coffee?

I sigh and debate the pros of cons of going for coffee with him. Pros: Coffee. Cons: Dominic.

Ugh.

Fine. Where?

He gives me the address of a shop we used to go and do homework at when Dad was in one of his really bad rages. Rowan and I got to know that place really well.

I hesitate a second, trying to work up the nerve to go to that place. Everything about being in the city has been so hard, but maybe I should do something to make it a little easier. But is that pathetic? If Grant had hurt Dom, he’d probably already be over it.

A second text comes in from Dominic.

Or we can go to the new place down the road from Max’s bar.

My knees feel weak with relief.

Sounds good. Be there in ten.

The elevator dings, and I step off it, then out into the sunlight. The scent of garbage still hangs heavy in the air, but there’s also that morning smell that reminds me of dew. I always loved mornings, especially on weekdays. It meant eight hours in school without Dad around.

I make it to the coffee shop with a few minutes to spare, but Dom is already there, sitting at a table tucked into the back corner.

I stop to order, then head over to him.

He lays his phone facedown when I reach him. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

“Well, it was a really welcoming invitation.”

He rolls his eyes, but a smile pulls the side of his mouth up. Then he sobers quickly. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Anastasia was right.”

“I should have you say that again while I’ve got a recording going. She’d like to hear that.”

He flips me off.

I clear my throat as the waiter comes with my coffee and sets it delicately in front of me before offering me a sly smile and a wink.

Dominic watches him walk off before turning back to me with a raised eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

“No.” I grab a stirrer and run it through the cup before taking a breath and facing Dom. “I’m sorry about running away like that when we were kids. You were right; that was shitty, and I shouldn’t have done it. But I don’t want to talk about it, so you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

He doesn’t look pleased, but he also doesn’t argue. I know Rowan could tell him what I said last night, but I doubt he will. Rowan’s not like that.

“Rowan and I talked about it last night outside after your temper tantrum, and everything’s cool. So let’s just stop discussing it, okay?”

The urge to argue flashes in his eyes, but he seems to smother it. “All right. If that’s what you want. I’ll try.”

I’d prefer a vow that he’ll never do it again, but I’ll take what I can get.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Dom says, surprising me. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too.” I can take care of myself, and I have been for a long time. But there are some days when I miss my brothers so bad that it’s like a physical ache. No matter what was going on, I always knew I could count on them. Dom saved me from Dad more times than I can count. And then Rowan stopped Grant. I feel like I owe them everything.

And I wish I could put that into words.

***

When I leave Dom in the coffee shop, I feel slightly better. It’s nice to see him so happy when he talks about Brigid. It’s weird too, though. I never thought I’d see him so head over heels for anyone. He’s got it bad if he’s putting up with all this stuff for a wedding. For someone who seems so no nonsense, Brigid is definitely going all out with the wedding.

In a weird way, I’m almost looking forward to it. They just look so happy together, and—

“Jude,” someone calls from behind me as I’m getting off my bike. Even though I haven’t heard the voice in nine years, I’d know it anywhere.

Despite my mind telling me not to, I turn to face Grant. He’s older, gray hair in his beard now. The years haven’t been kind to him. Where did he go after he lost his license to teach?

“Come here.” His voice is still as commanding as always, and even though I’m not a kid anymore, I barely hesitate before I obey. I cross the gravel lot and come to stand in front of him, where he’s leaning against an old, beaten Honda.

He smiles at me. “You’ve grown.”

I don’t say anything. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I want to get out of here. I want to be in my hotel room with the doors locked. I want to be with Rowan.

“What’re you doing back here?” Grant asks, his gaze sliding over me. It makes me feel dirty. Disgust curls in my stomach, and I shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket to hide their trembling.

Grant shoves off from the car to get into my face. “I asked you a question, boy.”

“V-Visiting.” I hate my voice for shaking. I hate myself for not walking away. But it’s as though my legs can’t move. I’m back in that classroom, and I have to do what Grant says or someone’s going to get hurt.

Grant drops a hand to rest possessively on my hip. He used to touch me there all the time. He used to touch me everywhere all the time.

My eyes burn, but I refuse to let them fill with tears. I never cried in front of him before, and I’m not about to do it now.

Grant slides his fingers until they’re resting on my bare skin, up underneath my T-shirt. I can’t do anything but stand there and let him do it. My throat is so tight that it feels as though I’m choking. All those horrible days in the classroom, in his car… They flood my mind until Grant is all I see.

He leans close, placing his lips near my ear. “I was glad to hear you were back in town. You took off without even saying goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology slips from my tongue even though I try to hang onto it. But it’s as though my body’s responding on its own, without any say from me. Maybe it’s just trying to keep me from getting hurt. Because whenever I disobeyed Grant, it always led to pain.

“You’re not,” Grant whispers, his mouth still on my ear. He bites lightly on the lobe, and I just let him. I don’t pull away or wince. I don’t even make a noise.

Grant lets out a breath, and it coasts over my skin. “I thought we had something special, Jude. But you left.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

His fingers dig into my hip. “You’re not.” His voice turns dark, and he pulls back enough for me to see the anger flashing in his eyes. “You always were a fucking tease.”

I don’t respond. My mouth doesn’t seem to know how to form words other than a third apology, but I’m afraid that would only make him angrier.

A car horn blares, and it’s like breaking a spell. Grant pulls back, releases my hip. “Go on up to your room, Jude. I’ll see you later.”

And like always, I turn and obey him.