Chapter 5

THERE WAS A STRANGE DEGREE OF DETACHMENT THAT JACK MAINTAINED FROM the girls he was interested in. They were exclusive to each other, meeting up often, usually for an extended period of time. Yet, Jack never named what they had, nulling any possibility of officializing what was essentially an already committed relationship. The exclusivity made it impossible for him to claim it was anything but.

He’d been choosing Birdie Davenport every day for the last three months without calling her his girlfriend. Russell had to guess that he only did that to give himself an out. He was with Birdie because he’d chosen her again today, not out of obligation to her. While they might mean something to each other, they didn’t owe each other anything. If Jack woke up tomorrow craving Mim Baker, then he’d simply tell Birdie that they were done. It was the kind of rationale that only made him feel better, because Russell knew Birdie would suffer just as much as if Jack were breaking up with her, because really, he was, and had been for the last two years. She had been his first, but Russell had a feeling that she wouldn’t be his last.

Despite how terribly Jack treated his partners, his outlook on relationships, in a weird way, was of benefit to Russell. It kept Jack his. Jack had never put a girl before their friendship, bringing Russell along to a shocking number of his dates. A good example of this concerned their weekend plans. Jack liked going to the Lagoon on Fridays and the Corral on Saturdays, leaving Sundays free to sleep off his hangovers. Whenever he started seeing a girl, he simply brought her along, not instead of Russell. None of his relationships had ever given Russell the feeling that he was slipping away, because Jack was the one making a conscious effort not to. He glued to Russell’s side no matter what. It was so insidious that Russell sometimes wondered who really needed who. The only time he was properly left on his own was on Sundays, if Birdie—or whoever—happened to make plans to see Jack in private. Since the girls had to go out of their way for that, it didn’t happen very often. It took them a while to get comfortable enough to ask him, and when they started doing it too much, he usually broke things off. Jack liked being in charge of his own life. The only other person allowed to influence it was his pa.

Russell could tell that Birdie’s expiration date was rapidly approaching. She’d grown bold enough to join Jack and Russell between classes and sit at their table at lunchtime, which Jack absolutely hated. They weren’t friends, or at the very least, he wasn’t her friend. Her presence around him all the time annoyed him. Jack, Russell and Buck were an elite group that no one else was a part of. Sleeping with him over the weekend didn’t give Birdie clearance to join them. Still, Jack didn’t tell her that, keeping his vexation a secret. That was the relationship ender right there, at least in Russell’s opinion. If Jack just told her that he didn’t like her near his friends, that he wanted to be away from her sometimes, there was a chance that she’d respect his feelings, but that wasn’t the point. Jack didn’t want to have to put any effort into this. What they had was supposed to be fun, not work. So, if she didn’t figure that out on her own, he’d eventually get rid of her. Russell could, of course, tell her. But he didn’t; their breakup was something he looked forward to. Jack was always at his most interesting while pissed off and drunk.

Uncle John never picked them up on Fridays, at Jack’s request. He liked hanging out after class and preparing for that upcoming evening. Usually, that meant pregaming at the Reed farm, but this time, it took the shape of his cousin’s gym. He was several years older than Jack, a distant cousin that Russell couldn’t really visualize in the Reed family tree. A lot of Jack’s cousins were like that. Jack drove with the patience of a saint, but as soon as he parked, he slammed his door shut, letting Russell and Buck know exactly how he was feeling. Buck gave Russell a silent glance that Russell merely responded to with a bounce of the brows. This was going to be good.

“We ain’t been here in a minute,” Buck commented. His tone was light and casual, as if he wasn’t preparing to get under Jack’s skin. “I was starting ta miss it. Is Birdie gonna meet us here?”

Jack scowled. “Why the fuck would she do that?”

“Why, ta work out with us, a course.”

Jack stopped, turning around to look at him. Russell’s heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t the entertainment he’d been looking forward to; Jack was just getting angrier. “And why would she do that?”

Back frowned, pretending not to understand his confusion. “Why wouldn’t she? We’re birds of a feather.”

“No, we ain’t,” Jack quickly corrected him. “That might be normal in your world, but it ain’t in mine. Birdie Davenport ain’t nothing but a bitch that’s starting ta get on my nerves and you’re about ta join her.”

Buck’s eyebrows raised, eyes growing wide. The ghost of a smile on his face was proof that Jack had just given him the reaction he’d been hoping for. “Ya know, I only got a problem with half of that statement.”

“Oh, do ya?” Jack closed in on him. Buck, as usual, didn’t back away. “Why don’t we put that to the test, then?”

Buck failed to suppress a smile. His amusement was the opposite of what Jack had wanted to see. Russell grabbed his arm before Jack could throw a punch, stepping in between them.

“Are you seriously still on that bullshit!?” Jack shouted.

“Jack, don’t,” Russell warned him.

“No, a course not.” Buck held his hands up. “But if I were, a second lesson might be necessary.”

Freeing himself from Russell’s grasp, Jack grabbed Buck’s shirt and forced him to the ground. A brief struggle ensued as Buck fought him off, but Jack was built like a truck, and when his feelings got the best of him, there was very little anyone could do to stop him. Buck was playing a dangerous game. Russell had seen Jack beat him to an inch of his life while emotionally unattached, and he knew what his cousin was capable of while in such a powerful fit of rage. He hadn’t seen Jack this affected in a very long time. This Birdie business must be a lot touchier than Russell had given it credit for.

Buck went down with Jack on top of him. Russell immediately got behind Jack and put him in a headlock. That was the only way he could think of to make Jack pay attention to him. Jack clawed at his arm.

“Get up,” Russell ordered.

Unable to speak, all Jack could do was hesitantly relax in Russell’s grasp. That was his way of showing that he’d listened. So, undoing the headlock, Russell stepped back. Jack didn’t follow. His knees kept him above Buck, one hand on the ground by his head. Jack leaned down. The sight shocked Russell, even though he knew Jack wasn’t kissing him. His mind was infested with the thoughts Buck had put there last night, and seeing Jack straddle Buck’s hips, Russell temporarily forgot he was doing it with ill intent.

“You cut that shit out,” Jack whispered. “You don’t want me ta make an example outta you a second goddamn time.”

“I’d let ya,” Buck confidently told him.

Uncontrollable jealously took over Russell, and before Jack could put his hands on Buck, he grabbed Jack’s hair and pulled. He’d never done that before. Jack hissed with pain, arching under him. His free hand promptly came up to seize Russell’s wrist, but there was nothing Jack could do to fight him. This time, he had to comply and let Russell pull him up. Russell only let go when he was on his feet again. Jack ran a hand through his hair while Buck got up, fixing it how he liked it before picking his hat up and slipping it back on. Buck tracked him quietly, wide-eyed and red in the face. Russell didn’t like seeing him so flustered. He didn’t like that Jack had been responsible for that.

Jack turned to give Russell a hard look. His entire body was tense. It seemed, however, that the hair pulling had worked; the shock had brought him back to himself. Perfectly composed now, he swung a punch that Russell didn’t see coming. It connected with Russell’s cheek so hard that he stumbled. “Don’t bother me while I’m working,” Jack coolly told him. “And don’t ever grab me like that again. I ain’t your bitch.” He turned to address Buck next. “Are we gonna have a problem?”

Buck didn’t respond.

“I’d hate ta pester my pa with this,” Jack added.

Russell’s entire face ached. He spat out blood on the pavement, still too shocked to really react. Jack hadn’t hurt him in years.

“We’re okay, Jack,” Buck meekly told him. “I’ll behave.”

“Atta boy.”

Jack entered the gym, leaving the other two outside. No one had seen this exchange; the parking lot was nearly empty.

Buck met Russell’s gaze wide-eyed and pale. “Are you okay?”

“What the fuck was that!?” Russell’s tone was loud and sharp. “What were you tryna do?”

“I was just having a little fun. I didn’t know he’d take it so personally.”

“Well, a course he would; ya brought Birdie into it, ya idiot!” Russell wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The metallic sting of blood overpowered his taste buds. “Wh-what was that—that whole thing about…!?” He trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. The mere concept of what Buck had alluded to, that he might want Jack to treat him like he did Birdie was far too shocking to put into words. He had never thought Buck would desire Jack in that way. “I thought—I thought ya hated him.”

“I do.”

“Then…” Russell faltered. His face tingled, jaw pounding. “How come ya wanted him ta…?”

A pensive scowl pinched Buck’s eyebrows together. He studied Russell for a moment. “Are ya jealous, Russ?”

Russell’s eyes widened. No reply left him.

“Who are ya jealous of?”

Instead of answering, Russell turned and walked into the gym. An awkward feeling sealed his throat shut, the realization that he didn’t have an answer to that question. Jack would never give Buck the light of day, yet the mere thought that he might burned Russell with the intensity of a thousand suns. Knowing that Buck desired Jack in that way also sent him into a frenzy. No part of that arrangement was right, even if Jack only did it out of hatred, in a misguided attempt to teach Buck a lesson. Russell couldn’t even think about that. Jack didn’t belong to Buck and Buck didn’t belong to Jack. There was no reasonable way to explain that they both belonged to Russell in similar, yet wildly different ways.

That afternoon was nothing like the others. For the very first time, Jack didn’t practice with Russell, asking his older cousin instead. A sharp pang cut through Russell as he watched them get in the ring. Jack punched with all his might, muffling the sound of every hit on the focus mitts. His attention refused to waver, even though Russell was in his line of sight. He’d never ignored Russell so openly before. It hurt. Russell regretted grabbing his hair. It was so soft, though. Softer than he’d ever imagined. A strangled apology rushed up his throat and died there. Frustration turned him away.

This gym was big enough to give Russell the opportunity to avoid anyone he wanted to. So, he avoided Jack and Buck, rotating around equipment that would block his view of the ring and anything Buck might be doing. Russell didn’t care to check. He focused on his own workout, pushing himself to the limit, trying to make everything hurt. He only stopped when his legs began to give out and the world started to darken around the edges. Air couldn’t fill his lungs fast enough. He took a seat on one of the benches and finished his entire water bottle. His eyes closed as he caught his breath, head resting against the wall.

When he opened his eyes again, they fell on Buck. He stood in the spare ring, talking to one of the coaches. Even though he wasn’t really doing anything, the sickness in Russell’s brain made him see things that weren’t there, convinced that Buck was hitting on the guy, that the way he tilted his head and smiled meant he was flirting. Burning with rage, Russell got up and approached them. He got into the ring, and shoving Buck for attention, ended their conversation.

“Fight me,” Russell ordered.

His strangely aggressive approach put a funny look on Buck’s face, but instead of questioning him, Buck simply complied. The coach walked away as the other two stepped into the center of the ring. Russell didn’t remember his name, one of Jack’s cousin’s friends who’d worked here since inauguration day. He breathed easier now that he had Buck all to himself.

“Ah.” Buck grinned. “You’re jealous a me.”

Russell tackled him. The padding of the ring allowed him to use full force without hurting Buck, only winding him. Their fighting was a lot more relentless this time around, in part due to Russell’s strong feelings, frustrated and angry, not just with Buck but mainly with himself. He didn’t want to feel any which way about anyone, but when it came to Jack, he just couldn’t help it. Jack was the most important person in his life, more precious than the world’s collective wealth. Russell cared more about him than his entire family did. Buck shouldn’t have said anything while under him, coveting Russell’s spot in his life, or worse, wishing to be more important than him. He should also have just kept quiet last night, rather than start all that degenerate talk. It had fundamentally changed Russell. His brain chemistry was no longer the same.

This concoction of emotions only served to anger Russell, and under Buck, that anger quickly morphed into something else. His hands began to leave marks on Buck’s skin, trying to hurt him, which prompted Buck to fight harder. This quickly stopped being a play fight. He reveled in the flush that reddened Buck’s face and every sound that escaped him, aware that he was the cause. It didn’t take long for him to realize that the burning in his chest was desire.

Mortified, he grew frantic. His abilities were greatly impacted by his nerves, ineffective as he panicked just to push Buck off him. He ended up tangling their legs together, making Buck lose his balance and crush him. That allowed Buck to feel the extent of Russell’s embarrassment right up against his thigh.

Buck stilled, wide-eyed for just a moment. Then, his demeanor changed, intensified, a completely different look in his eyes. Russell finally understood what he had talked about yesterday, that predatory look that wanted to eat him. A thrill went down his spine. He nearly thrusted into Buck’s thigh, so desperate for friction that he almost failed to stop himself. Afraid of losing his fight against temptation, he used all his strength to hoist Buck off him and flip them over. Now, he could use his knees to stay off Buck. His left hand promptly clamped over Buck’s mouth.

“Hush,” Russell whispered. More mortifying than having to live this down would be listening to Buck tease him for it. His first thought was that, if they both committed the same crime, then Buck wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. So, pushing down on Buck’s face, Russell moved to sit directly onto his crotch. Buck shut his eyes, drawing in a sharp breath. His reaction made Russell strangely proud of himself. He’d never sat on anyone like this before, feeling them harden under his weight. He smirked. “I don’t reckon Jack’s the one ya want.”

Buck’s breath was hot on his hand. He clearly wanted to squirm, but controlled himself, tensing up instead. It must be taking all his power of will not to grind against Russell. His eyes opened, still burning, fixed on Russell’s face. Once he accepted his defeat, he relaxed. Russell was afraid of what Buck would say if he moved his hand away, but did it anyway.

Buck grabbed both of his thighs and sunk his fingers into them. “Get off me.” That sounded like a warning, which Russell quickly decided to heed.

The full realization of what he’d just done only dawned on him when he got in the shower. Alone with his thoughts, he replayed everything that had happened since they’d arrived at the gym. He was completely infected. While he’d always had some suspicious thoughts in his head and certain inclinations to sin, he’d never actually done anything. He’d never even taken the first step. Jack’s iron grip on what was and wasn’t allowed had kept Russell on the line. Why was it so easy to stray? All it took was one person, already on the path of destruction, to make Russell forget who he was. He didn’t even like Buck, and yet, Buck was all he wanted now. Despair ceased his breathing, afraid that he couldn’t fight this alone, but if he told Jack, then he’d definitely share Buck’s fate. Worse than that, he’d be sealing it for the two of them.

Acutely aware of his wandering gaze, he kept his eyes down while entering the locker room. He stopped in front of his locker and dropped his towel. Glancing up, he promptly met Buck’s eyes. Buck only stared for a second before turning back around. In response to that, Russell reflexively glanced him down, taking notice of his black boxers and how little they left to the imagination. He didn’t know why he’d copied Buck’s behavior just now, as if checking each other out was totally normal, as if they’d ever done it before. He hated him. Was this what Jason Morris had done when he and Buck were the only ones left? Russell turned his back to Buck and got dressed.

When Jack dropped Buck off, all Russell could think about was the gay bar in El Paso and who Buck would be sleeping with tonight. He knew that the blowjob thing had been a joke, but he also knew that that was something that happened at bars. It stood to reason that it happened at gay bars too. His leg bounced, suddenly fidgety. He didn’t want Buck to go. He wanted Buck to come to the Lagoon with him and Jack and everybody else from their school. He didn’t belong in El Paso.

“Why did ya stop me?” Jack’s question was quiet, no emotion in his voice.

Russell turned to look at him. “He was just playing. He didn’t mean it.”

“That don’t matter; he oughta get his fucking face bashed in anyway, saying that kinda shit ta me.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Turns out all I fixed was fuck all.”

“Ya know it can’t be helped. You kept him quiet, which is what matters.”

Jack shook his head. “It can, actually. There are places that do this. I tell pa what he said, he sends Buck away. I doubt that idiot even knows that.”

Russell’s blood cooled as memories flooded his mind, every time Jack had failed to carry out his duties and gotten disciplined in return. Telling Uncle John that Jack hadn’t actually beat Buck into submission would only put Jack in danger. “Don’t do that,” Russell pleaded. “We’ll take care a him. We’ll think a something.”

Jack hummed, gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Let’s jump him again, proper this time. Both of us.”

Nausea weakened his stomach. “No. The first beating didn’t work; another one won’t work neither. He’s too tough, Jack. We ain’t gonna break him like that. We hafta try something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Russell swallowed. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “Making him your bitch, like you said earlier.”

Jack scrunched up his nose. “Naw, Russ. Not that. Not actually.”

“We’ll rough him up first. I’ll hold him down for ya.”

“How about I break his fucking hand instead?”

Russell paused. “Ya think he might like it?”

Jack shut his eyes and swallowed, clearly nauseous. “I know he would.”

“Are ya that good, Jack?”

Jack scoffed.

It suddenly occurred to Russell that Jack might be afraid of liking it himself. His mouth ran dry. “Be rough and he won’t like it, then.”

“Naw, I ain’t taking that chance. I’m breaking his hand and that’s final.”

“Alright.”

The mental image formed on its own, Buck bent over a table with his pants down his thighs and his shirt up his stomach. Russell holding him down by the nape of the neck while Jack slammed into him. The look on Buck’s face, eyebrows twisted into a scowl, bottom lip worried between his teeth. Would he really like it? How rough could Jack be? He pictured Jack’s hands on Buck’s hips, imprinting his fingers on pale skin, so strong he could tear Buck’s flesh apart. The back of Buck’s thighs reddening with each impact, soft groaning in the air.

“Do ya…?” The beginning of that question left him before he’d figured out what he wanted to ask. Then, figuring it out, he decided he didn’t want to ask it.

“Do I what?”

Russell hesitated. “Are ya rough, usually? I hear… girls like that.”

“Sluts do.”

“Are they better than virgins?”

“Depends what you like.”

He had no idea what he liked. “Do ya have a preference?”

“No.”

Russell hummed thoughtfully. That wasn’t what Buck had told him. “I thought, ya know, that sluts were better, and that once you were with one, that you’d never want another virgin again.”

“Whoever said that don’t know how to fuck a virgin right.”

“Oh yeah?” A smile widened his lips. “What’s so good about it?”

“It’s personal preference, Russ. Like I said.”

“Then tell me what ya like about it.”

Jack shrugged stiffly. His discomfort with this topic was strange, given the numerous accounts he’d given Russell of his sexual encounters, always unasked for.

“Oh, don’t get coy, now. I know ya ain’t shy,” Russell teased.

“I don’t know, Russ. It’s nice ta know that you’re her first, that she ain’t never been with no one before. Everything’s new. She’s easy ta impress.” Jack shrugged again, more annoyed this time. “Just do it and you’ll get what I mean.”

“I don’t know that there’s a single virgin left in this town after you’ve been through it, Jack.”

“Then fuck a slut. It don’t matter none. She’ll like whatever ya do.”

“Why are ya so vexed?”

A deep breath left Jack’s lungs. His shoulders relaxed, head shaking. “That whole thing about Buck just freaked me out, is all. I ain’t really in the mood ta think about girls right now.”

“I reckon Birdie Davenport will make ya feel better tonight.”

“Whatever.” Jack paused. “No, you’re right; I just need to bust one in her.”

There was the Jack he knew, able to disgust him with a single sentence.

“Atta boy.” Russell fought a bout of nausea while saying that.

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