Page 5 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

He found Collin still asleep on the couch and scooped him up with a small grunt. The kid was turning ten in a few weeks, and pretty soon he’d be too big to lug around. Tommy stepped around Bobby at the foot of the stairs and carried his brother up to bed.

When he returned, Bobby stood awkwardly at the door, shifting from foot to foot and—Tommy could swear—blushing slightly. He had his beef jerky in his hand. “I…. Well, I guess I better get going. Unless….” Not finishing whatever he was going to say, he looked oddly hopeful and nervous at the same time.

“Yeah, I need to hit the sack soon. Twins’ll probably be up again when that stuff wears off.”

“Right.” Bobby started to turn for the door, then hesitated and took another step before he turned back to Tommy. “Look, I….”

“Hey, yeah, hang on.” Tommy went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboard under the sink. He had to snake his arm back so far it hurt, but he found the plastic bag under a strip of duct tape and peeled it from the wall. Their emergency money had dwindled down to tens and twenties instead of a few hundreds and fifties, but he had enough. Thank Christ, Tommy thought as he turned around on his knees. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Bobby standing over him.

“Jesus, warn a guy instead of sneaking up on him.” He huffed out a small laugh as he pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the bag and passed it up to Bobby.

Tommy caught an expression, quick and surprising on Bobby’s face, something that looked almost hurt when he saw Tommy pass the bill to him. “Oh… no, I don’t…”

“I’m not a charity case, Bobby. I take care of my own.” He knew it was a stretch considering the relief he felt every time they got food stamps, and he didn’t even blink over lifting something one of the kids needed, but there were limits and he preferred good, honest thievery and state support over owing anyone anything. Ever.

“Then why were you… if you had money here….” Bobby looked confused as he took the bill and shoved it into his pocket. “And I didn’t think it was charity, just… I’d do that for a friend, ya know?”

Tommy got to his feet, knowing he couldn’t have kept his eyes on Bobby’s face with Bobby’s crotch inches from his nose. “Because it would’ve taken another hour to come home, get the money, go back out…. The babies needed it sooner, not later. Colleen and Mikey were needed here and Davey and Carrie and Collin are too damn young to be out on the streets at two o’clock in the morning.” He answered all of Bobby’s questions on one breath and chose to ignore the friend comment, thinking they were far from friends. He didn’t make friends with people who could toss him in jail.

“Yeah, that… that makes sense, of course. I….”

As Bobby trailed off again, Tommy watched him for a minute. He half wondered what was going on inside Bobby’s head, and at the same time he tried to force himself not to care.

“But anyway, thank you for the loan and for the lift and… all that. Just… thanks.”

“Yeah, anytime, Tom, I… well, hell, anytime.”

There was that look again, like Bobby had more to say but couldn’t decide how to say it. After another long pause, he turned and headed for the front door.

Chapter Two

The alarm clock would have been bad enough, but a crash and a curse and a loud cackle woke him up not even two hours later. Tommy swore and scrubbed his hands over his face before he ripped the covers back and shot out of bed. He wasn’t sleeping too well anyway. He’d been having dreams about Bobby McAlister standing over him in his kitchen with him on his knees. Only he wasn’t passing a twenty up to Bobby in his dreams. He was reaching a hand out, pulling open the snug-fitting jeans, and stroking Bobby’s cock, feeling its hard length pass through his fingers. Not the most restful sleep, but a lot better than going downstairs at half past four in the morning and dealing with the two useless excuses for life he had the privilege of calling his parents.

They hadn’t even managed to close the door, hadn’t made it as far as the living room. Cal and Cheryl were sprawled in the entryway, rolling around and laughing like the town idiots. A potted plant had broken and spilled out around them. Tommy cursed again, knowing how hard Carrie had worked to get those cuttings to take root and how Davey had lifted pots for her to plant them in. It was a nice little thing she wanted to do after learning about plants and seeds and shit at school. Leave it to Cal and Cheryl to ruin something as simple and innocent as that.

Clenching his fists as he stood over the two, Tommy gave a light kick to his father. “Shut up,” he said, reaching to close the door. He jumped back when he saw a stranger on the porch.

The guy looked more embarrassed than dangerous. “I just need my fare.” He’d tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and looked at Cheryl and Cal as if they were a freak show.

“You’re shitting me.” Tommy was talking to the cabbie, but he glared down at his father and stepmother.

“I… no, they got out and said someone inside would pay. I….”

“You must be new,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head. Anyone within a fifty-mile radius of their house knew better than to give a lift to his parents without seeing the money first.

“Only been in town a few weeks,” the driver said, still staring at Cal and Cheryl as they tried to get up. Neither of them managed it.

Tommy leaned over Cheryl and stuck his fingers under the top edge of her blouse. He found a small wad of bills tucked in her bra strap. She protested loudly and slapped at his hand, but Tommy ignored her.

When he glanced over his shoulder at the driver, Tommy noticed his wide eyes and brows reaching for his thinning hairline. He couldn’t bring himself to care what a stranger thought of him or the rest of his family. “How much?”

“Uh, eighteen eighty. They promised me a good tip, but….”

Tommy counted out thirty dollars from the money and passed it over. “Promise is a promise, but word to the wise”—he nodded his head at his parents—“they ever hail you again, ask to see the money up front. You might not be so lucky next time, and it’s a pain in the ass when you gotta call the cops for this kind of shit.”

The cabbie muttered a thank-you and practically ran down the steps, as if he was escaping with his life and nothing else. Tommy could identify. Cal and Cheryl had that effect on people.

“Gimme my money back,” Cheryl demanded in a whiny slur from his feet. “I need that.”

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