Page 57 of Fear
If Jake told him to drop to his knees, make him dinner, cut himself open on one of the small knives, Tobias could do that. He was ready every moment of every day for anything Jake wanted. And now, now, if he was finally laying out his expectations, Tobias was more than ready to listen, remember, repeat back, and obey.
At least that was what he told himself as he folded his hands over the table to hide their shaking.
“Rule one you already know,” Jake said. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Tobias forced his eyes to Jake’s and nodded.
“Rule two: you can only apologize once a day. Do not say you are sorry for everything, Tobias, because it’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you.”
Jake watched him steadily. Tobias didn’t have the foggiest idea what his reaction was supposed to be, but he had to smother the desire to apologize and the equally crazy instinct to laugh hysterically. He wished Jake would stop. These rules didn’t make sense, and though he was so good at following commands to the letter, he already had the awful premonition that these would be impossible.
But Jake continued. “Rule three: if someone is hurting you—and I mean in any way, Tobias—you hit them back. Even if it’s me. Or yell at them, or just get out any way you can. If I’m there, I swear they’ll pay.”
“Jake! That’s not—” Tobias bit it off. Freaks could not fight rules. Freaks got hurt if they fought the rules. But these rules were all wrong, and even though he knew that Jake meant them, Tobias could not imagine hitting any real, especially Jake. He couldn’t even try to think of it without wanting to curl up into a ball.
“But the most important rule,” Jake said, speaking so softly Tobias had to control his breathing just to hear him through the pounding in his ears. “The most important rule is that you have to tell me what you want. And when something’s happening that you don’t like, you have to say no, you have to say stop. If I’m doing it, I’ll stop. If someone else is, I’ll stop them. But you have to tell me what you want and what you don’t want, because if I hurt you because you didn’t tell me what was going wrong, I’ll never forgive myself. Tobias, look at me. Do you believe me?”
Tobias stared at Jake, and in his face he saw nothing but sincerity and earnest hope.
Jake didn’t want him hurt in any way. Tobias could hurt Jake just by letting the pain slide by like he always had before. This was so different—So wrong, a small voice said, why should he care about a monster?—but it might not be bad. It could be . . . it could be something that Tobias couldn’t have imagined, something so much better, with four simple rules.
He nodded.
Jake looked happier, steadier. “Great. That’s awesome. But there’s one more thing you need to remember. I really want you to follow these rules, but I also want you to know that no matter how many times you break them . . . nothing is going to happen to you. Absolutely nothing. I won’t be angry, hurt you, or kick you out. Got it?”
No was on the tip of Tobias’s tongue. That didn’t make any sense whatsoever because rules included punishment whenever they were broken. But he looked at Jake and considered how the structure of his world had turned upside down since Jake had taken him away. How good life could be when it wasn’t falling apart.
Tobias chose to believe him.
“Yes, Jake,” he said, and he breathed in the light of Jake’s smile. This was going to be damn hard, but he would try.
A COUPLE HOURS AFTER Tobias and Jake split two large pizzas for lunch (meat lovers and veggie, for the vitamins and protein), Roger called.
When the cell phone wailed in his pocket, Jake almost went for the gun he wasn’t wearing—startling Tobias, tucked on the other side of the couch with his feet almost touching Jake. Jake rested a reassuring hand on Tobias’s calf while he dug for the stupid thing.
He held his breath until he saw Roger’s name on the screen, then stood up and flicked it open, walking around the coffee table. “Hey, Rog, what’s up?”
“Kid. Just making sure you’re holding it together.”
Jake cleared his throat, not sure that he wanted to hang out awkwardly in the middle of the living room for this conversation. Would stepping out onto the landing give Tobias the wrong idea? “No, everything’s better. Loads. We’re doing . . . okay.” I’m not drunk and shouting at Tobias, anyway.
“Good. Glad to hear it.” Roger sounded as matter of fact as he would checking on the aftermath of any hunt. But he hadn’t actually gotten any new information about how it had wrapped up, and that made Jake nervous about what was coming next. “Hey, I wanted to give you a heads-up: you’re going to be getting a package from me in the mail soon. Don’t do something stupid like light it on fire or some other fool thing.”
Jake huffed. “C’mon, Rog, you know I’m totally professional about lighting shit on fire. What is it?”
“It’s a book,” Roger said, meaningfully. “Which is why I’m telling you not to use it for tinder. I want you to read it, Jake, and when you’re done, read it again.”
“Huh.” Jake glanced over at Tobias, still holding the book in his lap but watching him from under his bangs. “Do I get any hints?”
Roger harrumphed evasively. “It could help. Maybe. I dunno. It’s not like there’s a damn instruction manual for taking care of a kid that’s been raised in that hellhole, but I did my best. So you’re going to read it and think about what you’ve read and if you start falling to pieces again, you damn well call me. And not at three a.m. Got it?”
For a moment, Jake held the phone to his ear in silence. Tobias was still watching, and Jake had to turn away, not sure how anyone would interpret the relief on his face. “Thanks, Roger. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, don’t nominate me for sainthood yet. Damn book might be no more useful than the paper it’s printed on. And it’s that thin modern plasticized stuff that don’t burn for shit too, so that might not be much.”
Jake leaned against the kitchen doorway. “Thanks anyway, Roger. For thinking about us.”
“Yeah, kid. I still want to see you with my own two eyeballs before long, but just keep it together for now.”
