Page 5 of Fear
For several moments, there was no sound but Jake’s strange breathing. When he spoke, it sounded like he was struggling to keep his voice steady. “Just . . . pull your pants up. Please.”
It took Tobias a horrifically long amount of time, almost five seconds, before he could obey, tugging the jeans and boxers back up over his hips. It was harder this time to get the button closed.
When Tobias finally looked up, Jake had turned away, hand pressed to his forehead. Another minute passed before he spoke. “Look, it’s—been a really long day for both of us. You must be wiped. Let’s just go to—let’s just get some rest, okay?”
Tobias didn’t move, even as Jake went over to the bed with the bags and pulled out a set of clothes with quick, tense movements. Jake finally glanced over at him, mouth twisted. “If you want, you can change in the bathroom. Or sleep in that, whatever—whatever makes you happy. I’m going to bed.” He dumped the duffels on the other side of the bed, snapped off the lamp between the beds as he pulled the covers down, and got in with his back to Tobias.
Tobias took a deep breath, struggling to get control of himself and to think. Jake had put out the clothes, so he must have wanted Tobias to change, but he also definitely didn’t want Tobias to undress anywhere near him. Tobias took the clothes on the bed to the bathroom and changed there without turning on the light, folded the clothes he’d been wearing, and carried them back out. He stopped just inside the darkened room, but Jake hadn’t moved, and it only seemed logical that the other bed was for him. He had been whipped for assuming less, but he figured that at this point, it wouldn’t matter. Jake didn’t want him. He’d be back in Freak Camp by the next night.
IN THE MORNING, JAKE took him to the hotel lobby, which had an array of food set out along a long table. Thankfully the room was empty of reals, apart from a gray-haired couple eating at a table by the window. They didn’t look up from their plates as Jake and Tobias came in.
Jake motioned for Tobias to get a plate, and Tobias picked up a plastic-wrapped round of soft bread (a muffin, he remembered it was called—Jake had brought him one once before, wrapped just like this from his pocket) while Jake loaded his plate with a little of everything.
Jake glanced back at Tobias but didn’t meet his eyes, looking only at his plate. “That all you want?”
Tobias nodded. He wasn’t hungry, but Jake had seemed to expect him to pick something up.
He dawdled uncertainly at the end of the bar. Jake sat down at a small table, then sighed and nudged the opposite chair with his foot. “C’mon, Tobias.”
So Jake still wanted to share a table with him. Tobias hadn’t been going to assume anything, not after last night. He sat down carefully, gingerly tearing the plastic open and breaking the muffin into smaller pieces. It would be his second and last meal out of Freak Camp, and even though he had no appetite, he was going to try to savor it. A few more reals were coming in now, lining up casually at the bar and chattering as they got their own plates of food, but Tobias couldn’t bring himself to care. There was nothing they could do to him now, anyway.
He could feel Jake watching him. Perhaps he was trying to figure out how he could have picked such a stupid monster, or how Tobias had tricked him. Tobias’s gut clenched harder, and he wondered, even as he brought another piece of soft bread to his lips, if he was going to be able to keep it down. He’d probably be able to make it outside before he vomited, assuming no one tried to stop him—
Then Jake pushed over one of his two plastic cups, filled with a bright orange liquid. Tobias stilled.
“Here,” Jake said. “It’s orange juice.”
Tobias picked up the cup slowly, sipped, and almost choked in surprise at the taste. Sour, but good. Very good. Without thinking, he looked up to meet Jake’s eyes, unsure of how much he was supposed to have.
Jake’s lips flickered in a smile. “Finish it. I can get some more.”
Tobias drank the orange juice and ate his muffin, pacing it so he finished his at the same time as Jake with his large plate of food. Jake dusted his hands off and wiped his mouth with a napkin, eyes lingering on Tobias’s empty plate with its few crumbs scattered across. “Did you like it?”
Tobias nodded quickly. The muffin had been delicious and very filling, but he hadn’t gotten nearly as much enjoyment out of it as he had with the cheeseburger and onion rings from last night.
“Well, let’s hit the road. Daylight’s burning, and we got a long way to go.” Jake stood up. Tobias followed quickly, swallowing hard, the good food he just ate turning hard in his stomach.
The drive that morning was nothing like the one yesterday. Jake didn’t talk, only turned on his tape deck. Tobias couldn’t stop himself from replaying the night before, wondering what he should’ve done differently. Even though they were fucking useless, hopeless thoughts—he’d already fucked up far too much for a second chance with Jake, and that was all that mattered.
Lost in his despair, he hadn’t been paying attention to anything passing outside, but a sign caught his eye, the information registering automatically: 15 miles to Salt Lake City, 450 to Cheyenne. Salt Lake City was the capital of Utah, Cheyenne was the capital of Wyoming. Both were east of Nevada, and the road sign wouldn’t be giving them those distances unless they were headed toward those cities . . .
. . . away from Freak Camp.
Tobias felt his brain freeze in shock. That couldn’t be right. Freak Camp was the only place Jake could legally dump a monster (though a shallow grave and kerosene would work as well; no one but Jake would have to know). And he had fucked up, and Jake hadn’t even bothered to punish him, to teach him to be better, which meant that Jake couldn’t possibly want him. But if they weren’t going back to Freak Camp, if they were going away, that meant he still had a chance. A chance to persuade Jake he was worth keeping around. Maybe Jake didn’t realize how well-trained Tobias was, how he could do anything. Maybe if Tobias acted right now, if he was brave enough to push a little bit, he could make Jake understand that as stupid, fucked-up, and worthless as Tobias was, he could learn, he could be anything that Jake wanted him to be, or nothing at all.
“Jake,” he said, softly.
Jake glanced over at once, the crease deepening between his eyebrows. He almost looked apprehensive. “Yeah, Tobias?”
Tobias wet his lips. “You can—you can do whatever you want with me, you know.”
Jake looked wary. “What do you mean?”
So Jake wanted to hear it explicitly—that was okay, Tobias knew how to do that. A lot of guards had liked to hear Tobias talk as he jerked them off. He ran his tongue over his lips again, keeping his voice soft, even if he couldn’t keep his words from tumbling out like blood gushing out of a wound.
He tried to tell Jake what he could do with him, but he must not have used the right words, because he saw nothing on Jake’s face indicating arousal, interest, anything Tobias could understand.
“You could hurt me,” he said more urgently, “anyway you like, I won’t mind. You could cut me, whip me, choke me—”
