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“Anything.”
I inhale his scent and turn my head to look at the lake. “Tell me about Marlene.”
His shoulders tense. “I had it coming, huh?” He sighs. “I’ve… been with her a couple of times.”
I try to pull my arms off his neck. “Explain.”
“I’ve been with chicks over the years.” He grabs my forearms, then lets go, so my hands drop to his chest and stay there, splayed on his pecs. “I have rules. I never see them twice. Never kiss them. Never go down on them. Never get their phone number or give them mine.”
“And this one?” I don’t even want to say her name. “She has your number. She feels entitled to send you pics of her boobs.”
His jaw clenches hard. “A mistake. After all these years, I thought I’d relax the rules a little. She seemed nice and insisted. Came around where I worked in Chicago, said she didn’t want a relationship but wanted to sleep with me again.”
“And you said yes?”
A tick starts in his jaw now. He takes a step back. “I was lonely.” Wonder rings in his voice, as if he never realized why he was doing what he was doing until now. “You were gone to me.”
As he’d been to me. “Why didn’t you ever call me, email me?”
He turns back toward the lake. His profile is dark, the light is now behind him giving him a shadow of a halo. “When I left… I was badly hurt. Broken ribs and the long cut in my abdomen. Dad came down to the basement together with another o
f his buddies and cut the cable ties from my wrists and ankles. ‘I’m a good guy, see?’ he told me. ‘I let you live. Remember that.’
“I remember everything. Can’t forget. He didn’t say another word. He didn’t repeat his threats to keep me from talking, but he didn’t have to. His friend patched me up, sewed up the cut and taped my ribs.
“Then Mom… She kissed my cheek, packed me into a cab and sent me away in the night, with a plane ticket in my pocket and some cash. That was the last time I saw her.”
Holy crap.
“When Uncle Jerry picked me up, he didn’t take me to a doctor. He hated doctors. He lived alone on a sort of farm with chickens running about. He had no internet and no phone. No electronic gadgets whatsoever. He was cut off from the world, and so was I.” Tyler runs his hands through his hair, hunching over. “Jerry was addicted to all sorts of medication, mainly sedatives. Turns out he suffered some pretty bad trauma as a child and never got over it.”
“And he got you addicted, too.” I put a hand on his arm and he lowers his hands.
“He brought a friend to treat my bones and infected wounds. When I couldn’t sleep, or woke up screaming from nightmares, he gave me Valium. When I had panic attacks and couldn’t breathe, he gave me Xanax. For a year he kept me a prisoner in his strange world. When I asked for a phone to make a call, he gave me a pill. When I asked for internet, he gave me a pill. Couldn’t I punch his lights out and run? Sure. But the pills kept me in a sort of trance. I was doped. Drowsy. Slow. I couldn’t think clearly.”
I step closer. He lifts one arm and wraps it around me. I don’t want to hear more—and yet I want to know everything.
“Then what happened? How did you leave?”
He’s still and silent for a long while. A deep crease runs between his dark brows. His story is like a horror movie. “Jerry died. An overdose, a mixture of drugs. I found him in the back yard. The crows had already gotten to him.”
I shudder and burrow closer to him, resting my cheek on his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“He left me his bike.”
“This bike means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
He shrugs. “It’s all I own.”
“What happened afterward?”
“After the will was read, and I got the bike and some bucks, I wanted to come back. But by then I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He hesitates. “I was hooked on pills. I had… I have ticks. Compulsive behaviors. I… count stuff. I have rituals I need to follow otherwise everything will go to hell. Otherwise I’ll be back in that basement.”
I shiver. “I never noticed any strange habits.”
