He had to look his own demon in the eye, terrified or not, and win this time.
Jerry scowled. "Who is this man to you? Nobody compared to your own family. Don't let him jerk you around like a bitch on a chain. Charlie, we all miss you, most of all your broth--"
"Don't say my name." Chase tried to steady his shaking arms and he couldn't, so he shoved his hands in his pockets. His breathing still came in short gasps, but it was slowing now.
"Don't you miss Luke and Buddy? It hurt your parents so much to get your response that I had to come alone to find you."
"No." Chase reached out to grab Jackson's hand abruptly. In for a penny, in for a pound. "I miss them because they're too young in Luke's case or too... too good a dog, in Buddy's case... to be as..." How could he even describe it? "As fucking hellish as the rest of you. Hell isn't where I'm going, it's where I left. It's back home with you all."
Jerry reeled. "How dare you?"
"How dare you?" Jackson snapped his fingers to draw Jerry's eyes to his own, his chest swelling. He jutted out his chin. "I've beat the shit out of guys like you before. I'll do it again unless you leave him the fuck alone. He doesn't want anything to do with any of you."
Chase's cheeks flushed with humiliation. Getting Jackson to fight his battles was low, but it was the first time he could remember feeling safe for... months.
Jerry's next words chilled Chase to the bone, making him forget his shame. "I'll be around again, when this misguided soul isn't."
Chase pulled Jackson's hand and shoved past Jerry to open the lobby door. His hands shook as Jackson stayed between them. "I don't have anything to say to you."
Jerry's voice was soothing again, but Chase knew exactly what ploy this was. "I have plenty left to say to you. Messages from your family."
"Who? I don't have a family." Chase kept his voice flat and dull, though his chest was swelling with the same pain he thought he'd finally forgotten. It was ten times more intense than it had been at Jackson's family's barbecue. No, a hundred times.
Chase let the lobby door close while Jerry watched. As he led them to the elevator, Chase grew aware of how much his hand was shaking in Jackson's.
Bless him, Jackson didn't ask – even when they reached Chase's apartment. Chase fumbled, trying three keys before he got the right one.
Once the door was closed, Jackson finally dropped Chase's hand. He strode to the window and look down across the parking lot. "What car does he drive?"
The shame was back, but worse. He had to explain this now.
Chase swallowed hard, walking up gingerly behind Jackson. "Silver Corolla. It was parked in the visitor bays."
The spot was empty now.
He was gone, but Chase was certain it wasn't for good.
They knew where he lived now. It was only a matter of time before they found out the rest: where he worked, who Jackson was, where he lived...
That asshole detective. Chase was the worst scrapper in the world, but he'd lay into Alex if he showed his face again with some vague offer of help.
"Think he's gone properly?" Jackson murmured, his voice quiet.
Chase shook his head.
A warm arm circled around his shoulders. Jackson pulled Chase into his side as they scanned the parking lot together. Jackson stepped between Chase and the window to wrap him up in both arms.
Chase melted against Jackson's chest, pressing his cheek to Jackson's shoulder. He squeezed hard in return, his arms around Jackson's back.
He wasn't gonna cry like a little girl, but he'd forgotten how damn good it felt just to be hugged.
"Okay, I need a drink," Chase laughed quietly. "It's noon. That's not too early."
Jackson chuckled and pressed his lips into his hair. "I think the occasion warrants it. Unless that happens every day...?"
"No. God, no," Chase chuckled. "This was the first time." He breathed in that musky, citrus scent and pressed his nose into Jackson's shoulder for a few more moments before letting go. He rummaged for a bottle of wine and cracked it open. He found cheese and crackers, sliced up a couple apples, and dug in the cupboard for nuts.
Where did they go? Fuck, he'd bought them.
Chase searched one cupboard, then the other, then the first again. A hiss of annoyance escaped him as frustration knotted his chest. "Fuck, I had more--"
Jackson came up behind him to kiss his shoulder and close the cupboard. "What you've got is fine."
"I want nuts."
"It's fine," Jackson soothed, and Chase let his resistance melt again. Jackson was right. They'd only had breakfast an hour or so ago.
"Right, let's go to the couch..."
Jackson opened the wine bottle and started sharing the tray of appetizers with him. Though Chase was waiting, he never asked. Two glasses in, the tension higher than ever, he still hadn't.
Finally, Chase looked at him. "You gonna ask?"
"I was leaving it up to you."
Chase bit his lip hard and poured his third glass. He settled back with it and cradled the glass against his chest. The dry bite of the white wine helped distract him, even if it was unpleasant. "That was my uncle."
"Mmhmm."
"They... were religious. Still are, I should say. It's the usual story."
"When did you get out?"
"A year ago."
Jackson frowned. "I thought you only moved here..." he trailed off.
That was the other part he hadn't wanted to say, but hey. Might as well now. Chase sighed and chugged half his glass, then couldn't help pulling a face. Ugh, it was bone-dry.
Jackson chuckled quietly, his hand resting on Chase's knee. He wasn't judging him or trying to stop him; he was just... there. Someone being there for him was new.
Chase finally admitted, "I moved out, and moved in with my ex. He was a biker. I met him at the shop I was freelancing at. He seemed like he could protect me from them, you know?"
"And the relationship didn't last?"
"He was... controlling," Chase muttered. "I have great taste in men. Out of the frying pan..." When he looked up, Jackson's eyes were like flint. He hadn't seen him this angry before, and it made Chase flinch backwards. "S-Sorry. Not you."
Jackson looked startled. "No, I'm not – I'm not angry at you, babe," he murmured, squeezing Chase's knee again. He set aside the empty appetizer tray and scooted closer, resting his arm around his shoulders again.
"Okay. Sorry." Chase welcomed it and leaned into it. The warmth and comfort was exactly what he needed, even if he never would have been able to ask for it.
Jackson shook his head slightly. "For what?"
"That you had to see all that," Chase murmured. "I hate telling people. They get all pitying... and stuff..."
Jackson shook his head again, stronger this time. "I don't pity you." His firm tone made Chase look up, and then their eyes locked. "I promise I don't. I'm just pissed as hell at the people who thought this was okay. And if you ever need revenge..."
Chase didn't know how to explain how much that made his fear grow. Weirdly, knowing that Jackson was capable of beating the crap out of his uncle didn't make him feel better. It actually made things worse.
Now he knew Jackson was capable of the same as Jerry. But Jackson would never, ever lay into him with words or with fists...
Chase shivered again and swallowed hard, closing his eyes so as not to let Jackson see the fear that returned and knotted his breathing.
Don't let on. Don't ever let that on.
At last, he had a good thing going. Nobody wanted to date someone who was afraid of him.
Chapter 24
Jackson
Chase smiled and laughed all afternoon. They quickly finished the bottle of wine. They watched TV for a while, cooked pasta for supper, and then split another bottle of wine...
Jackson didn't buy it for a second. Those few seconds of fearful glances had told far more than Chase suspected.
Jackson had expected to hear this sometime. He hadn't expected to confront it firsthand, but some of Chase's mannerisms had made him wonder from the beginning.
He'd told the truth when he said to Chase that he didn't pity him. He was also pissed as hell at his family – or former family – for making him feel like this. But even those few moments of anger had startled Chase and made him withdraw.
So, Jackson decided to stay calm and play along with Chase's too-rapidly improved mood. He let him have at least a shred of his pride. This was reality for a lot of kids his own age, even more older, and still many younger. It made Jackson sick and angry, but there was precious little he could do about it.
"You know, since you're over here..." Chase smirked once the second bottle was gone – most of it into his glass. He scooted closer, running his hand up Jackson's thigh.
Normally, Jackson would have laughed and leaned into the touch, but something felt off.