Page 71 of The Heart of Smoke

A part of me wants to see Baker face to face. Then, he could see what a nightmare of a person I’ve become. The guy he was friends with in his youth is gone. Maybe I’ll creep him out enough he’ll ghost me, never to reach out again.

The thought of going into public with my mask drawing all kinds of attention, though, is nauseating. His wife would probably look at me like I’m some kind of freak. I know Willa about crawled out of her skin the first time she saw me. I’m an embarrassment to the Park name, hence why I stay hidden.

Baker: I already told the wife. Dinner at our place or yours. Either way, it’s happening.

At least if they showed up here for dinner, I would make them feel uncomfortable with my mask and they would leave the first chance they get.

Me: Even if you guilt me into saying yes, I’ll cancel.

Baker: Do I need to beat some sense into you like old times?

Me: I strictly remember being the one to deliver all the ass whippings when we were kids. You run your mouth and I shut it up.

Baker: There’s my bestie! We’ll talk soon about the deets.

Me: Oh, fuck off.

I toss my phone back onto my desk, irritated that Baker is getting his way. It really is like when we were kids. He’s bull-headed and won’t stop until he gets what he wants. If he doesn’t, he throws a fucking pissy tantrum. I can’t believe he found someone to marry him, much less have four kids with him.

My sour mood dissipates as my mind drifts back to Tate. Last night, he gave me an epic blowjob. I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. His mouth on my cock was so damn perfect. This morning was pretty amazing too, returning the favor and drinking in every desperate mewling sound that escaped him.

What happens next?

Is he going to push for more?

Something tells me I’ll let him. Tate has this way about getting me to reveal sides of me no one has ever seen. Eventually, though, he’s going to literally want to see. As in for me to remove my mask and reveal the monster beneath.

I try to imagine his reaction.

He’d be nice and probably try to smile. But would there be disgust shining in his eyes? Fear?

The idea of Tate being afraid unsettles me. I’ve seen it several times now, a few times directed at me. He still hangs on to some secrets and they’re beginning to paint a picture of an ugly past. If anyone knows ugly, it’s me.

The video I discovered when I was researching him doesn’t exactly align with the man I know, which leads me to believe there’s a lot more going on than I realize. Was the video made under duress? Did someone hurt him? It certainly explains the weary, worried expression whenever he’s outside or the jumpiness whenever I startle him.

Knowing that someone could hurt him makes my stomach curdle and anger flash hot through my veins. Who would do such a thing?

One thing’s for sure. I’m going to have to get Tate to talk to me. He’s been doing his fair share of getting everyone in this family, including me, to reveal their deepest, most intimate secrets, so it’s only right he gives me something in return. I want to know more about the video and his firings. I want to know what terrifies him so badly.

Why?

So I can protect him from it?

I don’t know how, but I want to try.

“Jude!”

Violet’s voice from downstairs draws me out of my head. I grab the dishes on my desk and stride out of my office, stopping to peek inside at Tate along the way. He’s still fast asleep, his cat curled up on his chest. I smile, unable to stop it from forming, and then head downstairs. Violet waits for me, a worried frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I demand. “Grandpa?”

She shakes her head quickly as she takes the dishes from me. “Not him, no. Go have a look outside. Oh, poor Tate. He’s going to be so upset.”

Poor Tate?

My body thrums with barely contained anxiety. I bolt out the front door, unsure of what I’m going to see. It can’t be horrible because he and his cat are upstairs sleeping safely in my bed.

What then?

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