Page 55 of Fish in a Barrel
“Lance?” Jackson mouthed, and Henry’s face fell.
“Another night shift. I miss him.” He sighed. “I’m also fuckin’ horny. I’m only telling you that because you can’t talk and tell the world what an asshole I am.”
Jackson smiled a little at that, but he got it. Busy schedules, busy lives. Sex was one of his favorite things too, but he and Ellery’d had precious little time these last three weeks. Ezekiel Halliday had taken all their extra energy.
Well, notall.
Henry must have seen something in his face because he raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You are looking exceedingly smug for a man who’s supposed to be incapacitated. What can’t you tell me because you’re too sick to talk?”
Unwillingly, Jackson’s eyes darted to the side of the bed, where a four-by-six area rug featuring geometric shapes in shades of brown on a blue background sat next to the bed now. Jackson had no idea where Ellery had gotten the rug: The garage? The guest room closet? A secret magic compartment that was passed down through Ellery’s family for times of great need—or great potential embarrassment?
Wherever Ellery had gotten the thing, it sat now, complementing the décor of the room nicely and hiding the evidence.
Henry wasn’t stupid. He tracked Jackson’s gaze to the area rug and then back to Jackson’s face and very quickly put two and two together.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Jackson looked at him blandly, refusing to incriminate himself.
“You don’t fool me with that innocent look one bit!” Henry said, sulking. “You’re too sick to move and you managed to get lucky?”
Jackson widened his eyes and mouthed, “I’m a lucky boy.”
Henry growled at him. “Okay, lucky boy. You eat your soup or your luck’s gonna run out.” He indicated the tray next to the bed with an irritable gesture, and Jackson grimaced back.
“Living room?” he inquired hopefully.
“No,” Henry replied, folding his arms. “I am under strict orders to stay in here with you. Mike’s bringing a chair in from the guest bedroom, and we’re watching TV while you get some sleep.”
“Video games?” Jackson mouthed, truly offended. “PS4?” Ellery had recently hooked a television up on the wall across from the bed. Hesaidit was so he could watch the news at night before they fell asleep, but Jackson knew the real reason was so Jackson could watch television from bed if he woke up with nightmares. Too many nights Ellery had come to fetch him from the couch after he’d nodded off, trying to find some peace. Jackson had let him—and let him tell a story about why he’d done it—but he’d insisted that they at least have some headphones and a PS4 in the bedroom so Ellery could sleep while Jackson was fighting his demons. Both the demons in his heart and the ones on the screen in the games.
“Mm-maybe,” Henry said, frowning. “Let me go ask him. You eat.” He pointed emphatically at the food next to the bed. “And before you give me any crap, you need to know that your behavior tonight directly affects what’s going to happen Monday morning. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that Jackson can’t come out and play Monday if he doesn’t get some rest this weekend, so there. I’m just looking out for you, buddy.”
Jackson scowled. “Ask,” he mouthed, pleased when Henry held up his hands.
“Fine. I’ll ask. Ellery!” he called, turning to stride through the bedroom to the hall. “Jackson wants to know if he can play video games!”
He had no sooner gone into the living room than Mike came in, carrying the tapestried Queen Anne chair from the guest room.
“No video games,” he said, and Jackson glared at Jade’s boyfriend in disgust.
A blue-eyed boy from West Virginia, Mike was in his forties with prematurely white hair and a socially backward mindset that he had been gamely pushing forward on a daily basis since he’d met Jackson. He’d been Jackson’s tenant when Jackson still lived in the duplex he’d bought before hooking up with Ellery, and he’d become part of Jackson’s family, attending holiday functions and summer barbecues with Jackson, Jade, and her twin brother, Kaden, and becoming comfortable enough—and learning enough about social justice—that one day when Jackson wasn’t looking, Jade fell in love with him.
Mike had been counting his blessings since.
Mike and Henry got along like a house on fire. Both of them had been brought up in households in which anybody not straight, white, or male was not particularly valid as a human being, and while they were working hard to fight those ideas, they were both forgiving of the other when someone fucked up, used the wrong word, or voiced an opinion that wasn’t particularly progressive. They were both living examples of “progress, not perfection,” and Jackson treasured them as friends.
But maybe not as babysitters.
“Why not?” Jackson demanded, wondering if this was what most kids felt like at ten. His mother had been on the streets when he’d been ten; video games hadn’t been a thing in their shitty apartment, but then, neither had food. Jade and Kaden’s mother had taken him in and had mommed him until his own mother had gotten pregnant again when he was fifteen and kicked him out. Toni Cameron had put him up on her sofa until he and Kaden had moved out to their own apartment, shortly before Kaden got married and Jackson joined the academy. That small apartment had been the first real home he’d ever known.
But the experience had left him not great with rules.
Mike eyeballed him like any babysitter would eye a recalcitrant ten-year-old. “Because your boyfriend says so,” he said grimly, not appearing to think this was odd in the least.
Jackson wanted to say that video games helped him relax and that he would be bored if he was stuck in bed without anything to do, but at that moment, Ellery hustled in and Jackson lost his mind.
“Charlie Brown!” he croaked happily. “Oh my God!” He clutched his heart dramatically, and Ellery paused to let a tiny smile of appreciation escape. Jade had outdone herself, buying the costume with the bald cap and the bright yellow shirt with the black zig-zag and shorts, which Ellery complemented with black knee socks and white tennis shoes.
