Page 24 of The Sound Of Us

“What kind of controlling bullshit is that?”

“Right?”

I make light of it, but Ben won’t let it go so easily.

“I hate that fucking guy,” he mutters.

I look away, because I don’t want to encourage another useless conversation about my terrible life. And today isn’t about Frank. This job, getting my own money, it’s all about me.

Ben gets the hint and swiftly moves on. “This is mostly where you’ll work. Sorting through new arrivals, stocking the shelves, removing and reporting damaged books.”

His eyes scan my face while he talks, and although he’s extremely discreet about it, we’ve known each other long enough for me to see through his covert inspection. He’s looking for bruises.

Luckily, the slight swell from Frank’s palms on Friday night had settled down pretty quickly. Can’t say much for the bruises on the parts of my body that are covered.

By Saturday afternoon, according to Frank, nothing ever happened. And by Sunday evening, we were like newlyweds singing hymns at church. At least that’s how Frank acted. The bruises on my hips are still bad. I’m worried that they’re taking longer than usual to heal.

“You know what I wish?” Ben says. He points to three large boxes in the corner. “New Garry Michael shipment came in this morning. Put five up by the window, four flat and one standing up facing outside.”

I drop onto a chair and get to opening the box.

“I wish you’d have fucked it up properly with James and then left this town before Frank ever got his claws in you.”

“This cover is gorgeous,” I say, admiring the copy of All The Battles We Surrender. I finished my copy at the lake the other day just before I ogled a stranger from behind a tree.

“Yeah, you know who else is gorgeous?”

I roll my eyes and focus on the cover of the book.

“You, Axel. You’re as gorgeous as that tattoo covered hunk of meat on that book cover. More, maybe. You could have had anyone.”

“The book was good, by the way.” I set five copies on my lap. “And are you sure you’re not gay?”

“You liked it? I knew you would. And I don’t need to be gay to appreciate an attractive man, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. If you ever want to experiment though—”

Ben raises his eyebrow and a stupid grin forms across his face.

“—don’t ever come to me. I’m not your science project.”

I laugh when he tackles me playfully. “If I ever want to experiment, you’re the first person I’m coming to. I don’t care that you’re married. I’ll show you what a nice, young, fresh body feels like.”

I shove him away from me. “That was a horrible thing to say, Ben. Take it back.” I’m not mad and he knows it, but it still feels awful hearing the insinuation about Frank.

“Stop defending him,” Ben says, serious now.

“I’m not defending him.”

“You are. You’re young and beautiful and kind and sweet. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He’s not always bad.”

Ben rolls his eyes and then moves to the door. “Come on, I’ll show you the new gay fiction aisle.”

I follow him out with the five copies for the window display.

Ben continues with his speech. “Just because he’s sometimes good to you doesn’t change the fact that he’s an abusive, controlling piece of trash and you deserve better. I don’t even know how you got away with taking this job. You usually have to lie if we want to hang out. Being a decent human being is like the most basic requirement. He doesn’t get extra points for being nice sometimes.”

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