Page 56 of Fear
After a moment, Tobias nodded, blinking. “Okay. Unless . . . there’s a-anything else y-you wanted to do, because I can always—”
“There’s nothing I want to do, Tobias,” Jake said. “Nothing in the world.”
He hadn’t meant it to sound like—anything, really, not angry or sarcastic, or as tired as he felt, but at the words, Tobias pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them, tucking his chin between his sharp, bony knees. He looked wretched, and it hurt Jake more than the unforgiving sun, so he pulled the glasses off when he stood up. “Let’s go.”
Without hesitation, Tobias stood and followed him.
Chapter Eleven
To be honest, Tobias had no idea what the fuck was going on.
Jake went from hot to cold, from caring for Tobias during his sickness to staying—hiding, part of him whispered—in his room, from being so angry that Tobias knew he was about to be beaten, to just . . . not.
Jake shouted at him but told him to eat. Jake left him but came back and slept beside him. Jake took him to a restaurant and seemed thoroughly miserable, then took him to a library. Surrounded by the thousands of books, the smell of paper and the safety of quiet, Tobias had forgotten to watch Jake. When he realized what he had done and glanced back, Jake had been smiling faintly, as though Tobias’s happiness was contagious. As though he were happy for him.
Tobias was almost painfully confused, but as the day passed and nothing bad happened, he was willing to cautiously classify this as better. He and Jake ate together, spent time together after dinner, and Jake seemed more . . . open. Accepting.
More than once he found himself thinking about Jake sprawled on top of him on the couch, being able to feel Jake’s heartbeat. Though he knew he shouldn’t, Tobias hoped it would happen again, especially when they sat together on the couch, especially when Jake came close enough to touch. But it didn’t. Jake stopped at the edge of the living room to tell him goodnight, and for a moment he hesitated, as Tobias sat with his eyes on the carpet, hoping—but then Jake disappeared down the hall.
Tobias feared the resignation he caught in Jake’s face sometimes. He could remember that look in Becca’s eyes, and he suspected it had meant horrible things he couldn’t have imagined then. But at least he still had Jake close by, and he had to count that as better.
He just hoped that it wouldn’t get worse as fast as the last time had.
WHEN JAKE WOKE UP THE next morning, he had a plan.
Part of him chafed at it, sure that it was the kind of concession that only weak bastards and cowards would make. He hated even considering playing by the rules of Freak Camp and the sons of bitches who had fucked Tobias up in the first place. The very last thing he wanted to do was surrender to what they had done, tacitly saying, “Yeah, you fucked Tobias up, and I’m okay with that.”
He hated it. But he knew he was balancing on a thin edge and any misstep would slice into him (or worse, into Tobias) like the sharpest knife. Even he could tell that when a guy threatened to throw a defenseless trauma victim out of the house, got hammered, and then collapsed on that same survivor, he wasn’t exactly in the sanest headspace.
This was no game, but maybe he and Tobias needed some ground rules.
If anything would make it easier, he had to do it. He wasn’t sure he could stay sane if this whole fucked-up situation with Tobias kept spiraling.
They had more delicious Eggos for breakfast and chilled on the couch like usual. Tobias read, Jake pretended to watch TV, and then a little before noon, he got up. “Hey, I want to talk with you about something.”
Tobias closed his book carefully. “Yes, Jake?”
“Let’s . . . go to the table. I’ll make hot chocolate.”
Right before lunch was the perfect time. Jake had a vague conviction that food fixed things, so if this went badly, he would make grilled cheese. But a little drinkable chocolate beforehand couldn’t hurt either.
It took longer to get the chocolate together than he’d expected. He was probably stalling. He didn’t want to do this. But he also really needed it to work.
When Tobias was seated at the table with a cup of hot cocoa piled high with marshmallows—warm, but not actually hot, Jake had made that mistake only once, when Tobias just drank it—Jake sat across from him. Tobias’s eyes were locked somewhere in the middle of the table.
“I’ve been having a really tough time with this whole thing, in case you haven’t noticed,” Jake began, ignoring the way Tobias’s arms tensed and the marshmallows shook on top of his cocoa. “And I think we’ve got to shake some things up.”
Tobias let go of the mug fast, sloshing liquid over the top. “I’m s-sorry,” he said, looking anywhere but at Jake. “L-let me go wipe it up, I’m sorry—”
When Tobias would have bolted for the kitchen, Jake caught his arm and tugged him back to the table. It was a loose hold, a toddler could have broken it easily, but Tobias dropped like he’d reached the end of a chain. Jake once again had to fight the slow, smoldering desire to hit something until everything that had ever hurt Tobias was dust and bones.
“So I’m going to lay down some rules,” Jake said, keeping his voice even, nonthreatening. “And I want you to do the best you can to follow them, okay?”
Tobias nodded, almost frantically, and then took a deep breath and became almost unnaturally still. Jake could see him bracing himself. And that was exactly why they needed rules: Tobias could search for all the inner peace he wanted, but he should not believe that he needed it to survive what was coming. Jake would protect him no matter what. And Tobias had to know that that meant Jake would stop himself too.
TOBIAS WISHED HE COULD stop being afraid. He really did, because the more he acted according to how he’d been trained, the more Jake retreated from him. And the more he saw the blind rage in Jake’s eyes—or worse, the dull hopelessness—the more it ripped away any shred of comfort he’d gained.
But rules—he could do rules. He could do anything Jake needed him to do, anything he wanted, if Jake would just tell him what it was.
