“God, it’s good to see you,” he’d said, giving Dixon a tight hug. Dixon had wrapped Jaye’s smaller, slender form in both arms and lifted him off the ground, his legs kicked up in back and a groan sounded into the crook of Dixon’s neck.
“You sound like it’s been years.”
“It has.”
“Are you okay?”
“Better than ever. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Forever.”
Dixon didn’t press it any farther than that. They got in the car. Jaye chugged a Redbull and ate a chocolate bar as they began the drive back to the airport. They’d checked out of the hotel earlier. Now it was just a matter of catching their flight home.
The change in him was fascinating. Before the visit, Jaye had looked physically crunched up into a ball, mentally stomped on, emotionally bound in knots. He’d been living one of his most dreaded moments, knowing there was no way out but through.
Without any way to know what happened in there until Jaye was ready to talk about it, Dixon could only go on what he noticed.
As they spied the airport, Jaye let out a happy cry and leaned over the center console to kiss Dixon’s cheek. Smiling a little, Dixon reached over clasp Jaye’s leg, but his hand was taken right up, held in both of Jaye’s.
They parked and returned the rental. Bags in hand, they strode back into the airport and checked in at the desk. Jaye led the way for most of it, no longer hanging back. He kept fierce hold of Dixon’s hand, only letting go of it when Dixon needed it to hand over paperwork or his ID.
They strolled past shops and food stands, splurging on a milkshake for Jaye — another rare find in Zus — and as many exotic types of candy as they could fit in his carry-on bag. Dixon got himself a burger and fries. As he sat down to eat and Jaye popped rainbow-colored candy pieces into his mouth, Dixon focused his phone’s camera on him. With the flash of a plain old happy smile, Dixon took the photo, then sent it to Brekken so she’d know they were okay.
“Where should we go on our next vacation?” Jaye wondered with adorable enthusiasm. He sat cross-legged in the chair overlooking nearby gates. “Alcatraz? Guantanamo Bay?”
Dixon laughed and shook his head. “How about someplace nice? We could go see the folks. Head down South.”
“Yeah?” Another sugary piece popped through his parted lips. The temptation was too good to resist, so Dixon leaned in for a light, lingering kiss. “You wanna show me off?”
“Always.”
“Bet its hot down there. I’ve never been someplace hot.”
“Well, you’re hot enough all on your own.”
Jaye smiled, then chuckled, his eyes squinted slightly closed in cute joy. “Dork.”
“Have you ever been swimming?”
“Nope.”
“There we go. Add it to the bucket list.”
Jaye nodded toward the concourse. “Gonna go hit the head before we board. Be right back, okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll meet you back at the gate,” Dixon told him.
Jaye hefted his bag and walked off, sparing one more moment to give Dixon another kiss before he went. A few tables away, a small girl in pigtails giggled, peeking at them from over the back of her chair.
Jaye had the window seat on the flight back. For hours, Dixon watched him gaze raptly through it at the clouds and sky. Thinking of the blue jay tattoo, Dixon realized it was the closest thing to flying Jaye would get. No wonder it mesmerized him.
Dixon’s energy, however, was crashing. After days of prolonged, elevated stress levels, Dixon was finally giving in to the need to rest and stop worrying so much. He didn’t really want to sleep though, so he reached for Jaye’s carry-on bag, hoping to pilfer some candy from it and boost his sugar levels.
Jaye grabbed the bag away before Dixon got a firm grip on it.
“No way. Personal property, Trooper Rowe,” Jaye scolded. There was a look on his face Dixon couldn’t pinpoint. It was a deliberately featureless wall covering something. But a moment later, an easy smile appeared there instead, like nothing at all was off. Dixon wondered if he’d just imagined it out of exhaustion.
“Okay,” Dixon relented, raising his hands in surrender. “Never stand between a man and his stash.”
“That’s right.”
Jaye tucked the bag further under the seat in front of him and returned his gaze to the ether beyond the glass. Maybe Jaye was acting strange, but Dixon was content enough to let him have his quirks and leave it be.
One flight led to another. Dixon did doze on the second, smaller flight, hopping them from Anchorage to Zus, even though it had much more turbulence. He was used to being shuttled around on the puddle hoppers for work, so he knew his iron stomach could take it.
Jaye drove them from the airfield to the cabin while Dixon curled up in the passenger seat for another snooze. He didn’t know how Jaye was doing it, staying on and alert so long and with no visible effort. Maybe it was another benefit of having endured FCI Sheridan — staying on guard and energized as long as it took until it was safe to rest. Again, Dixon thought of how Jaye had appeared in the visiting room, like the walls had grown spindling limbs which reached out for him, and the only safety was in slinking down further in his metal and plastic chair, praying the devil didn’t come knocking in the place of a friend. That had been every day, every minute, for a hellish span of time.
Dixon knew he would never have made it.
Not in Jaye’s place and not in Tony’s either.
At least with Marcus there had been consistency. They’d had their routine. Marcus had specific quirks to adapt to. He was gone for long stretches of time. Sure, things got violent now and then, but it wasn’t a massive facility filled with countless guys just like Marcus, and it wasn’t every day.
Watching the sliver of asphalt tumble away under their tires, the tumbling fields and forests stretching out to the horizon in all directions, Dixon said a little prayer for Tony, that he’d keep his promise and try his best to get to Zus. As someone who knew the oily taste of the barrel of a loaded gun, Dixon hoped there was enough strength left in the guy to make him curious about the possibility of recovery and rebirth.
They rolled up to the cabin. At first Dixon didn’t want to move.
Praying had left him pessimistic. That scary, beaten voice in his head whispered that it was too late and too much. Tony would step out onto the highway in front of a speeding truck before he’d bother to come north and follow a dream. What were the use of fantasies when Hell lived inside you and monsters never slept?
“Hey.” Jaye nudged Dixon’s leg. Jaye bit his lip, his hooded sweatshirt pulled up to hide his short curls. Part of Dixon missed the longer version and lusted after the waist-length tendrils he would never get to twine through his fingers. Those light green eyes were too sharp, too wise for someone who should have been a spoiled, stupid kid with the world at his feet thanks to the luck of being born a white man in America with the face of an angel. How did the world choose who to feed on and who would flourish? Where was the fairness? What was the point of fighting? “You look spooked.”
“Yeah, guess I am. The whole world sucks, doesn’t it? I mean, when it matters. Good guys get the shaft and the bastards slip right through everyone’s fingers.”
“Says who?” He smiled like Dixon was worried about nothing, which only left him more baffled. “I know a couple of dicks who had all of their long-overdue bad karma come choke the life out of them. And I know a couple of handsome devils who got their second chances.”
“Will Tony make it?” Dixon asked, feeling desperate. When had he gotten so invested in someone he didn’t even really know?
“I hope so, Dix. I really do. But no one gets to tell him what he can handle. It’s a choice he gets to make. No one can take that one away.”
“Did you ever try to end it? Really end it?” Dixon asked in a fearful whisper.
“No. Not once. Never.” It sounded convincing. His piercing gaze only sharpened. “When things were as bad as they ever got, all I ever wanted was peace and quiet. That’s all. I’d try to bash the ghosts out of my brains, but I didn’t want to die. What would have been the point of all of that shit I endured if I was just gonna give up and off myself? I always wanted to live.”
“I didn’t.”
It came out before he could catch it. Then his face heated and he fought to think of how to explain, of what to say to the fury blooming in Jaye’s beautiful eyes.
The car’s engine was off. It was too quiet, with just the whistling wind around the cocoon sealing them inside.
“You never told me that.”
“I know. Sorry. It was back when things were really dire. I don’t know. Marcus had just left for the fishing season. My nose was broken. There was blood and semen on the bedsheets again and I just… it felt like it was easier to swallow a bullet than try to wash that shit out again.”
It was too quiet for too long. Jaye said nothing for minutes.
Then…
“How often did you wash out blood?”
“Too often.”
“Yours?”
“Always.”
Dixon chanced a glance to his left. Jaye was facing the steering wheel, staring straight ahead at the place where the road met the sky.
“Where was the blood from that time?”
Dixon sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.
“I… tore. The toy was too big. Too dry. He kept using it anyway. I was tied up so I couldn’t fight back or stop him.” A deep breath. “And my nose. He broke it again when I started to cry.”
Jaye let out a sinister laugh. He punched the wheel, causing a short honk. Then he did it again and again, beating on it.
“FUCK!” Jaye bellowed. The word rang in Dixon’s ears. “We need to dig that piece of shit up so I can kill him again.”
“He’s gone, J-bird. I’m just… I’m trying to be honest. I’m trying to say that I know how hard it gets. I know what giving up feels like. And I just really, really want this kid, this fucking kid, to make it through.”
“How were you gonna do it?”
“My gun.”
“What stopped you?”
“Brekken. She called. I knew she’d have to see my body and…” He shook his head. Cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed of all of it, okay? Every piece. Of what I let him do, of staying so long, of staying quiet, of how far down the spiral I went. None of it is easy. And I know how it must seem from the outside, like it was my fault. I should have been able to handle it. I shouldn’t have let myself get in that situation, but for a while it was good, until it was just okay, and then it was not great, and then bad, and then shitty and… The shame was paralyzing. It got away from me. It all did. When it comes to taking care of myself, I’m not strong like you. I’m not. I — ”
Jaye grabbed him by the arm, dragged him into a hug and kissed his cheek. His hand cupped the back of Dixon’s head and Dixon felt his deep breath. He sensed Jaye inhale his scent.
“I’m sorry,” Jaye told him. “I should have been there for you. We should have been there for each other, years ago. But we weren’t. Maybe we found each other at just the right moment, when we needed to finally have some good. You fill up all my blank spaces, Dix. You always have. You give me purpose. You take care of me so good. Better than in my dreams. You make me feel like a man who’s a hell of a lot more than the sum of his broken parts. I want to be that for you too.”
He let go, reached into the back seat for his carry-on bag — the one he’d been keeping out of Dixon’s reach since the morning and Portland.
He dug something out of a side pocket.
It was a little box. The lid bore the logo of a jewelry kiosk they’d passed in the airport.
Jaye opened it.
Inside was a ring — a band of plain silver.
Without looking up, he took Dixon’s hand and slipped it onto his finger.
“It’s not the nicest, but it’s better than I could have gotten out here. It’s my promise to you, Dixon Andrew Rowe. I’m yours. All yours. I swear I’ll take care of you, too, however you need, no matter what comes our way. I’m never leaving you. I’m never letting anyone hurt you like that again. I used to try really hard to take care of people who didn’t want to be taken care of, and when I realized that, it almost killed me. To have you, and to have the honor of taking care of you just as much as you take care of me, means the whole damn world.”
Dixon cupped a hand under Jaye’s jaw, tipping up his chin, and kissed him. His lips were warm, supple, and his sigh filled Dixon with the taste of sugar.
“I love you.”