Page 77 of Fractured Souls
A knock sounds at the door and Noah turns to grab it, letting Hunter and Mark inside. An Asian man follows them in. He looks a bit shorter than I am, but under his dress shirt I see defined muscles, and his black hair is neatly styled. He’s chewing on his full bottom lip. He looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else. He’s handsome. Very, very handsome. “Hey, Bakery Booty.”
“Hi, Noah.” He slowly closes his eyes, shaking his head and taking a patient breath.
“Jamie made lasagna, and once he’s done with the beautiful woman in his room we can eat.”
The man’s brow cocks. “I’m not even going to ask.” His eyes flick to me, then to Bo.
Noah smiles, looping an arm through his. “Sawyer, this is Cam.” I hold my hand out, subtly noting the way his arm flexes under the shirt. “And this is Bowen.”
“Uh, hi.” Timidly, Bowen reaches out a hand. Something soft spreads across Sawyer’s lips, a delicate smile just for my friend, and I don’t like it one damn bit.
“Hi, Bo. Excuse me, I’m a bit nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”
“Oh, me too, like uh, ever.” He cringes. “Not that I wanted to admit I’ve never been on a date. Wow. Uh, and I’m still shaking your hand.” He pulls it back as Sawyer chuckles.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Noah sighs. “I am the perfect matchmaker.” Jamie walks in with Amira, both of them talking and looking at something on Jamie’s phone.
“He’s very talented.” Amira smiles at Noah.
“In multiple ways.”
“Okay Noah, that’s enough.” Jamie shakes his head, tugging Noah against his body and leaning down for a kiss. “How about we let our guests get into the house before we start to make them uncomfortable.”
“I was uncomfortable pulling into your driveway,” Hunter says.
“Really?” Mark asks Hunter. “I felt it when we turned down the street.”
“Remember when I threw up on your pillow in college? I’ve been uncomfortable pretty much nonstop since then,” Sawyer adds.
This is going to be an interesting night.
“So, Bowen. What do you do for work?”
“I’m a musician. I play piano for a couple of restaurants. It’s not glamorous or anything, but I like it. I just like playing for people.”
“Wow, that’s incredible. I’d love to hear you play.”
“He’s amazing. His voice will put you right to sleep.” I look up, realizing what I said. “Not that it’s boring. I mean . . . I meant that it’s comforting. He sings to me a lot.” Oh my god, stop talking. “I’m . . . I’m going to shut up now.”
Bowen shakes his head, but I see a slight smile. “He’s right, though. There was a—” His eyes meet mine. “I mean, like, when we were in high school, there was a time where he wasn’t sleeping. I had to literally sing him to sleep.”
What he means to say is that my father went to jail and I was in this weird spot of missing him and hating him at the same time. I’ve yet to balance the two. “I was going through some shit,” I say.
“What happened?” Noah asks, then catches Jamie’s eyes before rolling his own. “Only if you want to share. I always forget that part.”
“Uh, well, my father went to prison, and I had to stay with Bowen’s family,” I say quietly. “I love Bowen’s parents and sister, but it was an adjustment.” I’d spent days angry with myself. If I hadn’t freaked out and run to the Zhao’s, they never would have called the cops. I couldn’t help it. The guilt ate away at me. It had been two days since he’d broken my arm and it was starting to swell. I looked online to see what I could do at home, but that led me down a tunnel of doom—infections, blood clots, if it could gowrong and lead to my demise I read about it. Then I ran to their house and told them I broke my arm.
The thing that’s crazy now, looking back, is that I didn’t realize how it was going to go. I was so used to the abuse that I thought I was going to go to the hospital, get checked out, and I’d just go home to my dad. Up until then I didn’t really understand that what he’d been doing was abuse. I thought that’s just how it was. Who he was. How most families were.
Bo’s mom took me to the hospital, and that’s when everything came out. The X-rays not only showed my broken arm, but the years of hidden abuse I’d suffered. My father was called in for questioning and didn’t even deny it. Part of me wonders if he just wanted it to end, that he wanted to get help. “You okay?” I hear Noah ask, but he’s looking at Jamie who’s watching me.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Got spacey there.” He tries on a smile.
“So, Bowen is your personal white-noise machine, then.” Amira smiles, but the gesture is off as she attempts to cut the tension. “That’s cute.”
“I own a bakery if anyone was wondering.” Sawyer smiles flatly.
“How long have you done that?” Bowen asks him. He takes another sip of his water. A tiny one. He always does that when he’s nervous. Tiny sips to keep his hands busy. I chance a look under the table and sure enough I see his fist clenched in his dress pants. I look around the back deck. We’re all seated at this wooden picnic table, and there’s a fire going in the deck-safe pit to keep us warmish. It’s not so bad outside right now, maybe somewhere in the forties. On our side of the table, Jamie and Noah sit next to Bo, while I’m on his other side, and Amira, Sawyer, Hunter, and Mark sit opposite.
