Page 14 of Darkness and Duress

In spite of my better judgment, I did look up the names on the prescription bottle labels I'd unearthed in my accidental snooping. I’d die on the hill that it was an accident. At least if I had to defend my ill begotten knowledge. I wondered if anyone knew. Marco's family was close-knit and supportive. Nothing like the family I'd come from. Some foster kids got lucky and landed in nice homes with caring parental figures. Not so much the case for Jericho and I.

Nevertheless, something told me Marco wasn't quite as forthcoming with his secrets as his loving family would believe. I couldn't shake the unease that my research had revealed. No matter how many different ways I put in the search query,the result was always the same. Those three prescriptions were sometimes prescribed as a cocktail to people suffering from treatment-resistant major depressive disorder. Knowing that made my chest feel funny.

On top of juggling my confused feelings about Marco’s mental health struggles, I was left confronting the reality of my own situation after what he’d said to me about my friends. I was ready to blow it off, but when the jeering texts and compromising pictures hit my phone the following day, I could see his point. Normally I wouldn't give a rat’s ass. I was the party boy, game for anything with zero self-respect and not a fuck to give. The fact that I had no recollection of the events in the pictures and had been essentially rescued from the situation by a man who hated my existence with the ferocity of a rabid animal had me feeling a little sick to my stomach.

As much as I hated to admit it, I had to make a few lifestyle changes if I wanted to avoid things like that in the future. It started with my drinking habits. When everyone wanted to hit a dive bar the following night, I begged off with some excuse about doing laundry. The next night, I claimed I wasn't feeling well. They were already harassing me about tonight, but I asked Jer to tell them I had other plans.

“Under one condition: we actually make plans, just you and I.” Jericho grabbed me by the upper arms to stop my pacing. “What is up, Hen? You've been spinning out for days.”

“I don't want to go out tonight. Please, just tell them I'm… busy or something. I want to stay in and figure some shit out.”

He eyed me with a stern look that betrayed his dominant side and I caved like the gutless man I was. I handed him my phone and watched him type in the password. Naturally, the texts from Red were still open on the screen. I'd been staring at the pictures since I'd received them. He scrolled, storm clouds crossing his expression as he frowned.

“Hen, what the hell—”

“Normally, I'd laugh. You know me. I don't give a fuck but this feels…”

“This is fucking bad. I'm ready to fucking beat their asses.” His eyes snapped toward my face. “Did they—”

“No. God, no. Just what you see there. Um… Marco actually took me home. Well, to his place.”

Jericho's face instantly burned with red rage. “He didn't touch you, did he? I swear to God…”

“Jesus, no. He was actually great.” I ruffled my hair with a beleaguered sigh. “He said some shit about them and it just hit me.”

“Hen, I didn't know it was this bad,” he mumbled, shutting off my phone and tossing it to the couch. “You're gonna let me hug you and you aren't gonna bitch about it.”

Despite my chaotic emotions, I laughed. He smirked and pulled me into his arms with a jerk. Daddy Jericho liked to come out and play sometimes, whether I wanted it or not. In this case, I wasn't mad. My touch-starved body melted into his embrace with a quiet hum. He held me tighter and brushed a palm over my hair, slowly and repetitively. I linked my arms around his waist and let my brain shut off for a while.

We remained silent and still for longer than I expected to. There was a sneaking suspicion that he was waiting for me to be the one to pull away first and I wasn't ready yet. He felt my flinch when my phone buzzed from the couch.

“Shh, I'll handle whatever it is,” he whispered to my hair and shifted to kiss my temple. “We’re going to order takeout and watch shit movies tonight.”

I deflated and stepped back with a faint nod. “Thanks, Jer.”

I didn't even care that we’d likely be watching Fast and Furious Ninety-Five or whatever the most recent one was. Having no-pressure plans to hide behind lifted a weight frommy shoulders that I hadn't realized I'd been carrying. If this was what being an adult was like, maybe I should go back to my wild party boy ways. That version of me didn't give a shit about things like struggling bosses, shit friends, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Huh,” Jericho mumbled, frowning at my phone. “It's Marco.”

My eyebrows rocketed toward my hairline as I reached for the device. I was as curious as I was reluctant. I opened the text and my brows stretched even higher.

Marco: Call me.

Okay, weird. I glanced at Jer and showed him the message. He shrugged like he had no clue what the issue was. To his defense, he really didn't know how scrambled my head was over this man.

Moving in slow motion, I pressed the button to call. It rang so long, I expected it to roll over to voicemail. At the last second, his gruff voice answered.

“Hey.”

“Heeeey,” I drawled, shifting to the side to collapse into the beaten down lumpy cushions of the couch. “Sooo…?”

“I'm headed to Jersey.”

“Okay?”

“For work.”

“Gotcha.”

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