Page 5 of The Penalty

“Nope.”

“Fine. Are you at least going to come up to say goodbye?”

I shake my head. “Going to work.” I’ve got my landscaping job starting today. The source of the bulk of my income. It’s a decent paying job with the city. And I get to be outside in the sun all day. I prefer that to being cooped up in an office or a store. I’ll take the freedom and fresh air every day. Enclosed spaces make my skin crawl. As a bonus, it’s a solid workout. I’llbe even more jacked when the guys move back at the end of the summer.

He pulls me in for a bro hug, which I tolerate only from him.

“Have a good summer,” I say.

“I’ll see you later, man. You know I’m not leaving until this evening.”

I dip my head in a nod but refrain from correcting him. I’m working at the rink after the landscaping gig, so I won’t be home until the rest of them have cleared out. It’s for the best.

I fucking hate goodbyes.

Hockey keeps me in amazing shape, but I’m still exhausted when I hop off at the bus stop down the street from our house. A long, hot shower and an easy dinner are in my immediate future. My mouth is already watering at the thought of the leftover pizza in the fridge.

Beau ordered a pie of every flavor for last night’s blow out. Detroit style. The best. And now, with the rest of the horde cleared out, all the leftovers are mine. It’ll feed me for a week. Maybe a few days. All this manual labor is making me exceptionally hungry.

A rusty old silver Civic looks out of place parked by the curb near our house. Probably from one of the other student houses. Maybe a summer subletter. Not my concern.

I devour all four steps up to our front porch in one leap, letting myself in and taking a moment to breathe in the peaceand quiet. It’s strange though. Walking in and not getting pounced on by Jacks with a million questions or having Seb drag me off to play Mario Kart. I’m not sure what to do with myself.

Shower or food first? My stomach growls as I roll my aching shoulders. Food first. Even though I know it’s still going to be there when I get out of the shower, it’s hard to break the habit of scarfing down every bite as soon as it’s in front of me. I’m shoveling a cold slice of Hawaiian into my mouth when something dark flashes past the corner of my eye. I cautiously set the rest of the slightly gross concoction of pineapple and ham on the counter, swiveling to track the movement.

A tiny fuzzy thing darts out, ripping a scream from my chest that a banshee wouldn’t be ashamed of. Unfortunately, the creature is not phased. Instead of fleeing, the thing runs at me, and I bolt.

Fuck the pizza. Fuck the shower. Fuck the house. My skin is tingling all over and the heavy thud of my heart pounds in my ears as I make it out the front door, slamming it behind me. The frame is still shuddering as I slide down the smooth surface until my ass hits the porch.

Stupid. It’s a stupid, harmless mouse. I try to catch my breath, dropping my head into my hands. As I’m starting to get my shit together and calm my breathing, a shadow falls over me.

At least none of the guys witnessed that stunning episode. They’d never let me live it down. The Devil is afraid of rodents.

But when I look up, something far worse than a mouse is standing over me, worn hands clasped in front of worn Levi’s.

“The fuck are you doing here?” I snarl at him. If I could back up, I would, but I’m trapped between him and the rodent-infested house. No escape. I glance beside me at the empty street. The streetlamps cast eerie shadows, and there’s no sign of a bus. I sigh. Even if there was, what would I do? Go stand there and wait for the bus while the man who contributed to half my DNA follows me.Get your head on straight.

“Are you okay?” His wrinkled brow and muddy brown eyes give him the appearance of a concerned parent. The resentment simmering inside since he showed up is precariously close to boiling over.

“Fine until I saw you.” Not exactly true, but I’d take a mouse over this man any day.

The hard lines of his face stand out against the spiderweb of tiny red veins spreading across his nose. His eyes look clear, though.

“Devlin. I understand you’re mad at me, but I’ve been getting help. I’ve been clean and sober for over a year now and I wanted to come see you. Apologize. See if there’s any way...”

“There’s not.” No way in this life or any other is he getting any semblance of forgiveness from me.

“I get it. But is there something wrong? You came tearing out of the house like it was on fire... Should I call the police?”

My laugh is flat and empty. “No. Just a fucking mouse.” What do I care if he thinks I’m a wuss for my fear of mice? It’s his own damn fault. No five-year-old should have to wake up, shivering under their thin blanket because the heat got shut off again, only to find a rat crawling across their arm. Fuck him.

“I can help you get rid of it.” He offers, looking hopeful.

I want to stomp on his hope and crush it under my heel. “Not a chance you’re coming in there with me.” He’d probably steal the artwork hanging from the walls. At least the guys have moved most of their stuff out for the summer, but I’m sure the Whitakers don’t buy cheap prints from the discount store at the mall.

“We could go out. I could buy you a drink.”

“Didn’t you say you were sober?”

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