He tried to lie down to sleep, but his mind raced, keeping him awake until someone entered the corridor again.
“You’re going out early, Dalton. Hope you suck your friend’s balls for bailing you out.”
Red Jack dragged himself up. Fucking Sam. He wasn’t supposed to come back. “Go suck off a donkey,” he groaned at the guard without much energy.
“Nah, you already did it for me,” said the cop, casually following Red Jack down the corridor.
The fucker let Red Jack out, but it was hard to contain his fury over the words. “Carry on, and I might just stay here for assaulting a cop. You might enjoy seeing me stay, but satisfaction isn’t much when your teeth are cracked.”
“I’ll be the one laughing when you end up locked up with no one to protect your gay ass,” said the cop as they entered the main room of the station.
When Red Jack saw Sam’s short mohawk from afar, he decided to shut up. Ignoring the stares and other people gathered in the waiting area, he left the station and walked down the stairs leading to the small parking lot, which was still only lit up with a few streetlights.
Sam turned around with a frown.
“You didn’t need to come,” Red Jack grumbled and put his hands in his pockets once he reached Sam’s car.
“Shut the fuck up and get in.” Sam opened his ride. Red Jack had actually done the paintwork on the thing. Matte black with silver skulls above the back wheels.
“Asshole,” Red Jack said, but got in, completely out of his depth. Even the familiar scent of the leather upholstery couldn’t soothe him now.
Sam hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car. He exhaled and drove away from the station. The longer the silence between them lasted, the more Red Jack could feel the daggers of judgment pushing into his flesh.
“I’m not gay, okay?” he burst out and got himself a cigarette. Enough was enough.
Sam turned to look at him, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights. His hand must have slipped off the steering wheel, as the car suddenly turned to the left. Sam stiffened and looked ahead, bringing the car back on course. “The fuck? Why are you telling me this?”
Red Jack shuddered, with the ending of his cigarette burning up in the fire from the lighter. “I— What did the cops tell you?”
Sam shook his head, squeezing the wheel hard. “Not a fucking thing. I wanted to ask how you got yourself locked up with Loki. What the fuck did you two do, and why do you fucking feel you need to tell me you’re not gay?” he asked with a little tremble at the end.
Red Jack took a long drag of smoke, suddenly realizing Sam didn’t allow anyone to smoke in his car. The poor bastard was probably as freaked out as Red Jack. “This stays between us, yeah?” He desperately needed this out to someone, and if there was one person he could trust not to betray him, it was the man who was always there whenever Red Jack needed him to be.
Sam let out a low exhale. “Yeah.”
Red Jack looked ahead, into the colors of the rising sun far away. “Sometimes you wanna blow off some steam, a bitch gives you the finger, and you can always find a gay guy to suck you. I mean, guys are so easy.”
Sam seemed intent on staring ahead.
Red Jack breathed in half a cigarette in one go. “Whatever, man. Doesn’t matter.”
“Are you fucking Loki?”
“Yeah, but he’s not my cousin!”
“I know that!” hissed Sam through gritted teeth. “You’ve been fucking him all this time?”
“No,” Red Jack mumbled. Sam would never look at him the same way if he knew the truth. “Only some of the time…”
“Fuck you!” yelled Sam. “And you’re lying to me even now? What the actual fuck?”
“I’m not lying!”
Sam inhaled so much air his lungs had to be close to bursting, but he didn’t comment and just drove on.
“What the fuck do you wanna hear, huh? That I’m a fag? That I fuck him all the time? That the cops caught me sucking him off? Why the fuck are you even driving me home? Stop the car. I can walk.”
“I want the damn truth for once!” snarled Sam, shaking his head. “And light me a cigarette while you’re at it.”
Red Jack curled his toes as he lit another smoke for Sam. There was no right way to say the truth. He passed Sam the cigarette. “I really like him,” he whispered. “And we hit it off, and yeah, we fuck like we’re the motherfuckin’ Duracell bunnies.”
Sam sucked the cigarette butt into his mouth. “He was fucking upset but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on. Why wouldn’t you just keep it behind closed doors?”