Page 52 of Freedom
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake made himself turn away.
Alex gave him directions to an apartment complex in the middle of Sahuarita, and Alex took him upstairs to meet Elena: a pretty woman in her thirties, her dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. The three young kids behind her were making enough noise for a whole classroom. Alex made the introductions, and Elena thanked Jake profusely for his help, offering two water bottles along with the keys to her truck.
Out in the parking lot, Alex pointed out Elena’s truck to him. She’d brought along a bag of tools from a mechanic friend of hers, and it was enough for Jake to test all the basic components to see where the trouble was.
Alex leaned on the side of the hood, watching him. Out of nowhere, she asked, “When’d you start hunting with Tobias?”
Jake shot her a look. “About a month ago.”
“How’d you know he was ready for it?”
He straightened to meet her eyes, biting back his first retort. She’d been damn good to them, especially since she’d signed off on getting Tobias out before she’d even met him. So he chose his words carefully, giving his best attempt at honesty. “I wasn’t sure at first. But we talked and then took little jobs, working up to bigger ones. He’s good when shit goes down—it’s way easier for him than making chit-chat with strangers.”
Alex nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful and distant. “I guess he’s used to fighting monsters.”
Jake pressed his lips together, looking back into the engine. “You can say that.”
Alex let him work a few more minutes before speaking again. “He wasn’t just fighting monsters in that camp, was he? I mean, he didn’t get to fight back much.”
He paused from checking the oil and looked at her without answering.
Alex’s face was grave, more serious than he’d seen yet. “This has a point. ’Cause you got to know when he can’t fight back. You know what I mean?”
Jake’s hand clenched around the oil dipstick, and he carefully set it down before taking hold of the car frame. The metal was warm in the sun, bordering on too hot. “Yes.” He wished he didn’t, but he did.
“Do you really know what he’s been through, Jake?”
He swallowed, looking away. “I’ve seen the scars on his back.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’ve heard about what happens in Freak Camp. Has he been sexually abused?”
Jake abruptly turned away, hand gripping around nothing, which was probably a good thing because he’d probably have sent a wrench through the windshield of the car next to Elena’s. He wished he could shatter every pane of glass around him rather than face that question.
No, fuck that. Jake Hawthorne wasn’t a coward, and he always manned up to do what he had to do. Especially for Tobias. He knew that running from this conversation would just be another way of letting Toby down.
Maybe he could break all the glass in sight and then answer the question.
He forced himself to say, “That isn’t something we’ve talked about.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he had been,” Alex said, undeterred. Her tone was measured, cool. “What do you think? There’d be signs like negative or too-pliant reactions to sexual content, certain assumptions he’d make about your behavior and those around you. Have you noticed anything like that?”
It took a minute before he trusted himself to speak. Alex waited patiently, unmoving. “I asked,” he said at last, his voice strange and mechanical to his own ears. “Once.”
He hadn’t, really. He’d been too much of a coward at the time to get even the key words out, but Tobias had reacted strongly enough to make Jake certain that he’d understood. Though now, looking back, maybe he should have been certain of other things. He cleared his throat, still glaring at the asphalt before him. “He swore there was nothing like that.”
Alex sighed audibly, shaking her head as she turned away, and the sympathy and conviction in the movement sparked an unreasonable flash of anger out of his numbness. “He doesn’t lie to me.”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “if he’s choosing to lie about this—if he doesn’t want to tell you—that’s his right, and you shouldn’t force him into anything he isn’t ready for. But keep in mind that he may not even understand that what happened was assault. Victims often don’t. They’re ashamed or blame themselves or make excuses for their attackers.” Alex looked grimly across the parking lot. “I’ve run a survivor group for almost ten years now. I know what I’m talking about.”
He took a long minute before he dared speak again. “And you’re really sure that’s what happened to Toby?”
“Yes,” she said flatly, without a moment’s hesitation, and Jake turned and slammed his fist hard into the side of the car. It didn’t dent the metal, but pain shot through his bones from his knuckles down his arm, and he welcomed it.
“Watch that fucking temper of yours,” Alex said coolly. She hadn’t moved from her position on the other side of the hood.
“Excuse me if I’m not a fucking Zen master about this,” he snapped. “What do you want me to do, get on my knees and pray until I’ve forgiven the sadistic fucking pedophiles and invite them over for tea?”
She grimaced. “Jesus, no. I mean, he wouldn’t want that either. He took a whip to empresarios in a temple, I think he’d be more than a little on your side. This sure as hell’s not a turn the other cheek situation.” She sighed. “Look, you have a right to be angry—reallyangry—but you can’t bring that shit around Tobias. It won’t do him any good, even if you tell him you’ll never lay a hand on him. He’ll always be terrified you’ll take it out on him because that’s what always happened to him before. And then he’s going to hide even more from you. He loves you, right? Long term, you gotta choose between getting revenge and really helping and being there for him. And you love him too, don’t you?”
