Page 83 of Storm Bound
“I get it. You’re hurt. You didn’t want to do it. Can we just skip the dramatics and get back to our lives?”
“Justin, you were fucking someone in my bed... while I was sleepingin it.”
“I thought you’d want to join us. You always said you wanted to try something new.”
I took a deep breath and quenched the thirst to shout my lungs out.
“I didn’t mean a threesome with a stranger you picked up on the street. Justin, why are you even with me? All you do is bring sluts home, fuck them, and disappear for days on end. What do you want from me?”
“Hey! If you didn’t like an open relationship, you should have said something.”
“What open? What relationship? Said what? You don’t listen to anything but that stupid voice in your head. No. Wait. Your dick. You only listen to your dick. You don’t have a brain in that head. You think we have a relationship? You think a relationship is fucking once every blue moon, getting constantly put down, and then waiting for you while you go fuck the entire gay population of Chicago? Not only do you not know the meaning of open relationships, but you wouldn’t know what a relationship was if it hit you in the head with a hammer,” I shouted.
“Babe. Calm down. There’snoneed for the amateur dramatics. What I’m hearing is you don’t want to share me anymore. That’s good. I can live with that,” he said. He rubbed his hands together and looked around the living room. “So. Is this our new digs? I have to admit, babe, I didn’t peg you for a small-town kind of guy, but we can give it a try, and if we don’t like it, we can move again. I’m willing to try if you are.”
There it was. The master of diversion. Justin Baker, ladies and gentlemen. The master of self-centeredness.
“Get out,” I growled.
“Babe? What have I said about raising your voice at me? What’s your problem, anyway?” he paced toward me and used his bigger physique to stand a little taller in front of me. “Is it that kid? Well, babe, if I can’t have anyone, you can’t, either. But! I’m willing to make an exception if that’s whatyouwant, and we can share him.”
“Get out,” I shouted.
Justin raised a finger between us and an eyebrow before he put his hand on my cheek and rubbed his thumb on my cheekbone.
“I said drop the dramatics. If you want to talk, talk like a normal human being. You’re not on a TV show or in a comic book. You’re living in the real world. Okay? It’s time you grew up and joined us here.”
My stomach clenched, and it became hard to breathe.
I hated this. I hated how weak I felt against him even when I was shouting at him. How small and insignificant he made me feel. How much energy it took just being in the same room with him. He knew to hit me where it hurt. He knew how to shut me up and knock the wind out of me without lifting a finger. He was everything I wasn’t, and he didn’t fail to remind me every single time.
Whereas being around Charlie was as easy as breathing or simply living. He made being with someone beautiful. Not poisonous.
“I am an adult,” I said. He tilted his head with a condescending look. “I am.” I repeated, but every inch of courage inside me deflated the longer he stayed there, caressing me, looking down on me.
“I’m tired now. Let’s go to bed. We’ll pick this up in the morning,” he said, but if I knew anything, that was we wouldn’t pick this up in the morning. He’d act like we’d never even talked about it.
“You’re not sleeping here,” I said, my voice breaking, trying to stay strong, but the moment—whatever divine strength I’d managed to conjure—was gone.
I was truly powerless against him.
“Oh, I know. Is it because you’ve been banging that kid in here? You’re right. We need to have this place...fimigated.”
I didn’t even have the power to correct him.
“How about we go to a hotel? Any hotel is nicer than this dump, anyway. We’ll need to bring it into this century if we’re going to live here,” he said, looking at the ceiling with disgust. “I think I saw a place on the way here. Come on. Let’s go.”
He grabbed the keys from my hand and headed toward the door. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. What did I have to do to get rid of him?
Nothing. There was nothing I could do.
He was right. I was a kid. A grown-up would be able to stand up for himself and get his message across. I was just a kid, too weak to even stand up for myself, let alone kick anyone out of my house.
“Adam, come on, boy. We don’t have all night,” he shouted.
I squeezed my eyes shut and, with a sigh, surrendered to my fate. When I opened them again, I caught a glimpse of a grey sweater on the armchair.
Charlie’s.
