Page 41 of Freedom
Jake rubbed his forehead with both hands. “You think I forget that for a goddamn minute?”
“No. No, I guess you wouldn’t.”
Nodding, Jake reached to refill his glass, but Roger pulled the bottle out of reach. “I think you’ve had enough. You’ve got that kid to go back to, and I’m pretty sure he ain’t asleep yet.”
“Shit, you’re right.” Jake looked up the stairs and hoped Roger couldn’t read the apprehension on his face. Given Roger’s expression, he decided not to be that hopeful. “I’d better go.” Jake stood, hesitating for a moment at the table. “I know today was rough,” he said, looking Roger in the eye. “But it’s hardest when he’s adjusting to somewhere new. Tomorrow’ll be better.”
“Hope so.” Roger waved him toward the doorway. “Go to bed, moron.”
Chapter Eight
Tobias had honestlythought his fear would get better. Jake had brought him to plenty of places that had been frightening at first (terrifying, overwhelming,Jake don’t let them hurt me I’m sorry I’m sorry), but he had always been able to force himself through it, and mostly, what he had been scared of turned out to be not so terrifying after all. In the places that lived up to his fears, Jake had dragged him out of there, had promised never to bring Tobias again, even though Jake didn’t have to make promises to a monster.
It should have gone away, this fear that he would mess up (still just a fucked-up freak) or that Hunter Harper would tell Jake that Tobias should be on his knees, ass in the air, that Jake should thrash him every night because that was what a freak deserved. Nothing had gone wrong the entire afternoon—even dinner had been a near miss. Hunter Harper had done nothing worse than look at him like he might break and at Jake like he didn’t know how Jake still had the energy to smile after dealing with Tobias day in, day out. And the entire time, Tobias had thought the fear would ease.
But it hadn’t. Every time he drew a breath, he could taste old metallic blood, felt screams shivering down his skin. Hunter Harper had never hurt him—not when he’d walked into the interrogation room, never since they arrived—but Tobias couldn’t shake the feeling that the hunter was biding his time. Now that he had seen Tobias, knew what a piece of shit monster he was, he would take Jake aside, and then gently, calmly, with one hand reassuringly on his shoulder, in that gruff voice that was all warmth when he talked to Jake, he would tell him what Tobias deserved.
All Tobias could do now was curl in the cold guest bed Jake had promised they would share, waiting for Jake to drag him out and beat him bloody over the tub in the bathroom, somewhere Hunter Harper wouldn’t see the evidence of a freak’s blood, only the marks on his skin. Jake’s hands would be steady on the belt or the whip, gray eyes hollow because he didn’t want to be there, striping Tobias’s skin with pain, but he had to because Hunter Harper knew how Tobias was wrong and twisted and that Jake had to beat him right.
When the door opened hours later, Tobias couldn’t stop himself from flinching, legs curling tighter to his chest, his nightmares coming true in the hesitant shadow of Jake in the doorway. But instead of reaching down to yank Tobias out of bed, Jake changed slowly into pajamas and slid onto the bed behind him. He ran his hands down Tobias’s arms, coaxing him to relax his legs, every movement smooth and soothing. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here. Shhhh, you’re all right.”
Tobias hadn’t known he was shivering until Jake touched him. Part of him wanted to beg Jake to take them away, to forgive him when Tobias was such a needy, broken monster; he wanted to be strong and good and obedient for Jake, but he couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t...
Jake just pulled him tighter and put his lips against the back of Tobias’s neck while Tobias did his best to force himself still, to relax into Jake’s embrace. For the moment, at least, he was as safe as a monster could be without being dead.
When Jake stirred the next morning, Tobias moved away from him regretfully. He hadn’t slept exactly, but he had found some measure of peace in listening to Jake’s even breathing. Yet even that thin relief was vanishing fast, the sharp wrench in his gut just the harbinger of panic’s return.
Jake smiled at him as he opened his eyes. “Morning.”
Tobias smiled back, hoping Jake couldn’t see through his tiredness to the terror beneath. “Good morning.” And then because Jake looked like he was going to ask something more, Tobias sat up, turning to get out of bed. He didn’t know if he could answer Jake’s questions about how he had slept or if he was okay without lying or making Jake unhappy.
Jake didn’t seem inclined to talk either; he just got up too and pulled on a change of clothes. Tobias noted absently that they would have to stop at a laundromat again when they left and then clamped down on his dread—When would they leave? Could he be good for that long?—so he could follow Jake back downstairs as calmly as he was able.
Hunter Harper stood in front of the kitchen stove. The sound of fat sizzling in the cast-iron pans made Tobias twitch, his muscles tensing and stomach curling worse.
“Morning,” Jake called.
