Interference, p.36
Interference, page 36
As soon as he read it, Anthony burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that is so Moose.” Then he’d kissed my cheek and murmured, “Thank you, baby.”
Jon reached under the tree, pulled out a box, and peered at the tag. Offering it to me, he said, “This is for Lily from Mom and Dad.”
“Aww.” I patted Lily. “Did you hear that? You get presents too.”
She wagged her tail, and when I pulled the box onto my lap, she sniffed it, nearly whapping my brother in the face with her tail.
Inside, there was a bag of treats, which must’ve been what she’d smelled, but also a couple of new plushie toys. I gave her one of the treats, then offered her the two toys. She grabbed the bear, and this time she did smack Jon with her tail.
“Ack! That thing is weapon!” He put up his hands. “I always knew Dobermans were dangerous, but I didn’t think their tails were this bad!”
“Good girl!” I patted Lily’s side. “What a good dog! Good girl!” Just as I’d hoped, she wagged her tail even more, doing it so hard her whole butt wiggled, and my brother squawked as she hit him in the face and shoulder.
My parents, Anthony, and I cackled.
Jon muttered something and just tried to shield his face. After Lily had sat back down, he reached under the tree, pulled out another box, and read the tag. “Wyatt, this one’s for you.”
I reached for it, and I was surprised to see that it was from Anthony. When I turned to him, he was grinning.
“You got me a gift?” I asked.
He shrugged, the grin still firmly in place. “It is Christmas.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
He nudged my foot with his. “Shut up and open it.”
I snorted. “You’re so romantic.”
“Uh-huh.” I rolled my eyes and started tearing off the paper. As soon as I saw what was on the box, though, my humor vanished. “Is this…” I turned to Anthony. “Is this actually what’s in the box?”
“Yes.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “It’s exactly what’s in the box.”
I stared at him. Then at the gift in my lap.
“What is it?” Dad asked from across the room.
Somehow I found my voice, and by some miracle, it didn’t break as I said, “It’s a laptop.”
“No shit?” Jon craned his neck to look at it. “What kind?”
“Jon!” Mom tutted. “Language.”
Jon grimaced. “Sorry.”
I ran my hands over the box. “A MacBook Pro.”
My brother whistled. “Ooh, sexy.”
Yeah, it was. And they were expensive as hell, too. I turned to Anthony. “Are you sure about this?”
“Of course.” He squeezed my hand. Then he craned his neck toward the tree. “There should be one more.”
My jaw fell open. “One more? Seriously?”
He was serious, apparently, and I knew the instant I saw the box what it was. No, it wasn’t a ring—it was a little too early for things like that—but the distinctive box screamed smartphone.
Sure enough, it was an iPhone. One of the newer ones, I thought; I’d lost track of which edition they were on these days.
Oh, but there was more. Tucked into the box was a small envelope, and inside that…
“You…” I stared at Anthony. “You paid for my cell service?”
“It’ll cover you for a year—5G data, WiFi, unlimited everything.”
I was breathless. “Are you sure, though? This is so much. It’s—”
He stopped me with a soft kiss. “I’m sure.” Taking my hand, he added, “I want you to have the things you need. And want.”
I wanted to protest because holy shit, that was a lot of money. But I trusted that he wouldn’t try to use anything he’d bought as leverage—he’d been far too conscientious about our power imbalance—and that he genuinely did just want to help. That he wanted me to be happy.
As if I could possibly be any happier than I was with him.
“Anthony…” I damn near cried. This man had known me for all of six weeks, if that. He’d taken me into his home. He’d become my lover. He’d brought me home so I could spend Christmas with my family. And now this? It wasn’t that he was giving me fancy expensive things. It was like when he’d taken me to buy everything Lily and I would need out on the streets. The price tag didn’t matter. The fact that he cared—that he gave a shit about me when so much of the world had given up on me—moved me to the edge of tears.
Finally, I found my voice again and told him the same thing I had a million times before and probably would again: “You’re amazing. You know that?”
He flashed me a toothy grin. “That’s what my stats say.”
The laugh that burst out of me kept me from breaking down, and I took his hand. “Thank you. This is awesome.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned in and kissed me lightly. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
And for the first time in a long time…
It was.
“Hey. Wyatt.” Jon nodded sharply toward the backyard. “Why don’t we take your dog out?”
My stomach lurched. I could read between the lines well enough: let’s go outside and talk where Mom and Dad can’t hear us.
That didn’t bode well. He’d been polite the whole time I’d been home, but there’d been a hint of frost in all of our interactions. Nothing overt, just a subtle undertone that said he had something on his mind that he wasn’t happy about.
I did need to take Lily out, so I walked her around the yard and let her do her business. Once I’d thrown away the bag, I joined Jon on the deck. “I’m guessing you weren’t just concerned about Lily.”
“No. We need to talk.”
My stomach flipped. Oh fuck.
Jon put his vape pen in his mouth and took in a long pull. Then he turned his head and blew out a cloud of steam. The scent was vaguely citrusy, and it brushed up against a memory I didn’t want to think about right then. One of my Army buddies had vaped, and he’d been all about the citrus flavors.
Now didn’t feel like the time to take a mental jaunt back to that bitter Afghanistan winter and “Christ, dude, can you order some different flavors?” and “I will give you a hundred dollars not to use that thing for the rest of this goddamned deployment.”
Lily leaned against me, and I shook the thought away as I petted her. Clearing my throat, I studied my brother. “So, what’s up?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you.” He absently turned the vape pen between his fingers, staring at that instead of looking at me. “I need you to level with me.”
“About?”
He flicked his eyes up to meet mine. “Where’ve you been?”
It was my turn to avoid eye contact.
He exhaled hard. “This has been killing all of us, you know. I get you’re in a shitty situation, but you can’t even call more than once in a blue moon? Or buy a damn train ticket?” He pointed at the house with the vape pen. “Mom shouldn’t have to handle this all on her own.”
I flinched. “I know. I’ve…” I chewed the inside of my cheek and watched my parents and boyfriend through the sliding glass door. “It hasn’t been for lack of trying.”
I didn’t have to look to know he was watching me skeptically. I could feel his “that sounds like bullshit” expression.
“How much effort does it actually take to call or text?” he demanded.
I swallowed. “Effort wasn’t the issue.”
“Then… what?”
I pulled my gaze away from the slider and moved to the deck furniture. Easing down onto the cold metal chair, I petted Lily to center myself. I had to think for a long moment about what to tell him. How much shame and guilt I could handle. How much of my brother’s pity and disgust. God, I hated this. How badly my life had spiraled and how humiliating it was to even brush up against the subject.
But Jon was right. I’d been MIA when the family needed me the most. They deserved some kind of explanation for that, didn’t they? I took a deep breath and looked at him. “I’ve… I haven’t been completely honest with you or Mom and Dad. About my situation.”
Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Says the guy who couldn’t get down here, but then shows up with a pro hockey player boyfriend who drives a Land Rover.”
I exhaled a cloud into the night. “That’s… a very new development.”
“Yeah. And?” He took another drag off the vape pen, watching me intently the whole time.
Gazing down at Lily, I fought back the knot of shame in my chest. I didn’t want my family to know. I hated how far down I’d crashed. And for fuck’s sake, the family had much bigger things to worry about. Mom was at a breaking point, and her stress was only going to get worse as Dad’s cancer picked up steam. It was also taking its toll on Jon. Derek had to be losing his mind, too, especially since he was on the other side of the country with kids and a demanding job. None of them needed my chaos.
“Wyatt.” My brother pulled out one of the other chairs and dropped into it. “I know it’s hard, Dad being sick. But we’re a family. We need each other. It’s gotta be all hands on deck. Even Derek has flown out like six times, and he calls constantly to check in.” He flailed a hand toward the house. “Mom shouldn’t have to handle this alone, and I’m doing as much as I can. I don’t think I’m out of line asking why the fuck you couldn’t be bothered to—”
“Because I was living on the goddamned streets, okay?”
We both froze.
He stared at me. I stared at him. No clouds formed between us. Not breath. Not vape.
Lily whined softly and pressed against my hand, but I didn’t take my eyes off Jon as my own words hung in the chilly air.
He was the first to exhale, leaning back slowly in the chair as he stared at me in disbelief. “You were—are you saying you were homeless?”
“Yes.” I dropped my gaze as shame pushed down hard on my tired shoulders. “I’ve been telling Mom I can’t get time off work, but the truth is, I lost that job a long time ago. The VA is still dicking me around, and…” I wiped a hand over my face and forced myself to look at him. “I ended up out there.”
Jon’s eyes were huge, his jaw slack. “Are you serious?”
I nodded slowly as bile climbed the back of my throat. Now that he knew, there was no reason to hold back, so I told him everything. About losing my apartment, then my car. About living in a tent, then losing that and most of our belongings to the police. About all the waiting lists I was on with the VA, which were doing fuck all to actually help with my situation.
By the time I was done, I was sweating, and Lily was most of the way onto my lap, leaning against my chest and licking at my chin.
I thought my brother actually paled. “Holy shit. Why…” He swept his tongue across his lips. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I swallowed hard and looked him right in the eye. “What do you think that would’ve done to Mom?”
Jon blinked.
“Not being able to come down here and help has been killing me,” I whispered unsteadily. “One of my biggest fears the last few months is that I wouldn’t be able to see Dad again before he—” My voice caught, and I cleared my throat. “But I would rather live with that regret than be the reason Mom breaks.”
“So you…” Jon had never looked that utterly shocked and horrified. “You thought you’d be a burden?”
“I would’ve been.” I gestured at the house. “They can barely pay their own bills. The stress is killing both of them faster than the cancer is killing Dad.” Spreading my arms, I asked, “In what universe would I not be a burden for adding to that?”
“You’re family, Wyatt!” He blew out a breath. “Jesus Christ. I mean…” He flailed a hand toward our parents. “Do you think Dad’s a burden? For having cancer?”
“Of course not!”
He inclined his head, giving me a “now do the math, dumbass” look.
I looked away, working my jaw as I kept petting Lily to stay calm. “That’s different.”
“How?” Jon demanded, but he didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Fucking hell, dude. You’re part of the family. We care about you. It isn’t like you decided to rob a bank. You got fucked over by the military and ended up on the—God, Wyatt.” He made a pained sound and pressed back against the seat. “I’ve been pissed at you for months because I thought you didn’t care enough to help us all deal with this, but you…” Raking a hand through his hair, he exhaled, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you let us help you, you absolute dumbass?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. More shame piled on what was already there. More guilt. A huge helping of grief for all the time I’d lost with the family I’d been trying to protect from myself.
“Jesus fuck.” Jon pushed himself to his feet, and for a second, I thought he was going to storm into the house and announce what an absolute trash fire I was. Instead, though, he stopped in front of me and said, “Get up.”
I glanced up at him, finding every emotion imaginable on my brother’s face. I gently nudged Lily down, and then I rose.
And somehow, I wasn’t at all prepared when he pulled me into the tightest, fiercest hug he ever had.
Last night, I’d sagged against Anthony and let quiet relief rush over me.
This time, I fucking broke.
I was pretty sure the last time my brother had seen me cry was at our grandma’s funeral when I was eleven and he was fifteen. He definitely saw it now, and he held me so tight I could barely breathe.
Through my tears, I managed, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” he growled shakily. “I’m sorry any of us ever let you think you could be a burden on us.”
“I just didn’t want—”
“And we don’t want you sleeping in a goddamned box, Wyatt.” He loosened his embrace a little but didn’t let me go. “Would you have stayed away if you had cancer too?”
“What?” I pulled back. “No. Of course not.”
“Right. So why the hell did you think you needed to stay away this time?”
“This isn’t cancer, Jon. It’s me being broke and homeless and—”
“And royally fucked over by the military.” He shook his head. “Even if you hadn’t been—even if you’d made some really dumb decisions and landed on the street because you were a reckless idiot, do you really think this family would turn our backs on you? Jesus Christ.” He reeled me back in, and his voice came out thick as he ground out, “We love you, Wyatt. You don’t get to stay out in the cold by yourself just because there’s other shit happening. You got that?”
“Yeah. I got it.”
It had been a long, long time since I’d felt this much like his little brother. Since I’d felt like the kid being protected on the bus or the playground. That was a surprisingly welcome feeling this time; not like he was talking down to me or treating me like a child, but that he was—and always would be—my big brother. He’d once been suspended for punching a kid who’d bullied me and telling the principal, “And I’d do it again.”
All these years later, I was a soldier who’d been inches from literal hell, surviving warzones and the streets, but God help me—few things had ever been more welcome than my brother hugging me the way he had the first time I’d fallen off a bike. I hadn’t realized how much I still needed the high school senior who’d put the fear of God into the sophomore who’d threatened freshman me for bringing a boy to homecoming.
I hadn’t known how badly I’d needed to be the little brother and the son who didn’t hesitate to come to his family for help.
Eventually, Jon let me go. As I sat back down, I wiped my eyes with a shaking hand. “I should, um… I should probably stay out here for a few minutes. If I go back in there looking like this, Mom is going to freak out.”
“Yeah.” He swiped at his own eyes. “Tell me about it.”
I stared at him. He hadn’t seen me cry since Grandma’s funeral. I hadn’t seen him cry since well before that.
He glanced at me, then apparently realized I was staring, and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
“What?” I laughed. “I didn’t think you were—”
He flipped me off, and we both chuckled, which helped us pull ourselves together. Hands shaking, Jon took out his vape pen again, and we sat in silence while he took a few drags.
After a while, he studied me through the cloud of citrus-scented vapor. “I do still have one question.”
I absently scratched behind Lily’s ear. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He tipped his head toward the house. “How the fuck did you go from being homeless to dating a professional hockey player?”
The laughter that poured out of me felt amazing, and I leaned back in the chair. “So there was this cold snap in November…”
Twenty minutes later, after I’d told him the story and we’d talked some more, we agreed our eyes weren’t incriminatingly red anymore, and we headed back inside.
“Did you idiots get lost out there again?” Dad asked as Jon took off his shoes.
“Again?” Anthony laughed, arching an eyebrow. “Is this a thing?”
“No,” my brother and I said at the same time our dad insisted, “Yes.”
Mom giggled. “Before some of the other neighbors moved in, it was all woods back there.” She gestured toward the yard. “When these two were little—”
“They were idiots,” Dad said. “Just smaller ones than they are now.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I muttered as I sat down beside Anthony on the couch. “And anyway, it was Jon’s fault.”
“What?” Jon scoffed as he sat next to me. “That’s crap.”
“You told me there were leprechauns in the woods!”
Anthony snorted. “And you believed him?”
“I was four!”
“And you were an idiot.” Jon punched my shoulder. “Don’t forget that part.”
I punched him back. “I was four.”
He huffed and kicked me, then howled when he caught my prosthetic with his sock-covered foot. “Ow! Jesus!”
