In Michigan… there was no work.
We found ourselves in Detroit under an overpass on I-75 with a can and match. We lit a fire and it still wasn’t doing anything to appease the subzero air all around us.
“We’re going to fucking freeze out here,” Heather said as her boyfriend Ross hugged her tighter into his body trying to generate more warmth.
They’d started traveling with us about three months before. We met them in Las Vegas one night when we were fucked up on the strip. There were six of us now, and she was the only girl. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of their relationship. They always had each other’s backs, no matter what. It was easy to get lonely traveling around from place to place.
I never thought I would want to share this experience with someone.
That was an unexpected surprise.
“She’s right, we’re going to fucking freeze,” I stated, trying to blow warm air into my hands.
It was no use. Nothing would work, it was just too damn cold. The pain pills I bought off the street weren’t even numbing me up anymore. My back ached from the frigid weather. I never believed it when people said the cold could fuck with your bones.
“Fuck this.” I stood, walking away. “I’ll be back.”
“Where you going?” Mike called out behind me.
“I’ll be back,” I repeated, debating if I was really going to do this.
I saw an ATM up the road earlier in the day, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind to stop at it as soon as we walked past it. If it wasn’t so goddamn cold I would never even think about doing this, but we were going to die out here tonight if we didn’t find a warm place to sleep. I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket, opening it up to grab my ATM card. The same one my parents gave me when I left for college. I hadn’t used it once since I left, but at this point what other choice did I have. I pushed the card into the machine, typing in my code and asking for a hundred bucks. That would get us a few rooms at a shitty a model, but at least we would be warm.
I desperately wanted to take a hot shower. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent shower. We always washed up in public bathrooms on the road. You didn’t realize the simple luxuries you had until you didn’t have them anymore.
The machine beeped, rejecting my card.
Declined.
“The fuck?”
I grabbed it, shoving it back in. Repeating the same steps.
Declined.
I shook my head, baffled. Leaving the card where it was to find the nearest payphone. I would give my parents the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they thought I would lose it and shut it off to avoid fraud and protect themselves. I could understand that. If that were the case, they would definitely wire me some money if I told them where I was and why I needed it.
No matter what they were still my parents.
“Austin,” I said to the operator, calling my parents collect.
“Austin,” Mom greeted after a few rings. Her voice laced with worry.
“Hey, Ma,” I replied, grateful she was the one that answered.
“Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m in Detroit, and I’m fine. It’s just—” She didn't let me finish.
“Come home. Listen, I know it’s been rough for you since the accident, okay? Just come home, honey. We’ll figure it out.”
“Ma, there’s nothing for me to come home to.”
She sighed.
“I promise. I’m fine. I just need you to wire me some money. Trust me, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t really need it.”
“Austin…”
“Please. I’m in Detroit, and there’s no work. It’s freezing out, and I have nowhere to sleep tonight.”
“Oh, Austin…” She began to sob.
“Ma, I’m fine. I swear. I’ll come home when I’m ready.”
“Where do I wire the money to?”
“There’s a Western Union in—”
“Is that Austin? Wiring what money?” I heard my dad ask in the background.
“Joseph—”
“Give me the phone. Austin?”
“Hey, Dad," I replied calmly, waiting for the wrath of my father.
“Well, look who finally decides to call. Do you have any idea what your mother has been going through? Do you have any idea what you have been putting us through?”
“I’ve been sending postcards, telling you I'm alive and fine."
“That makes it okay? That makes it better? You drop out of college without even discussing it with us and disappear. For months!” he argued.
I leaned my arm and forehead against the payphone. Not wanting to have this fucking conversation. I just needed money this once to survive the night.
“I knew you wouldn’t approve. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“You bet your ass I don’t understand! After everything we have done for you!”
“Dad, I’m fine. I’ll come home when I’m ready to.”
“What are you doing in the meantime, huh? Partying? Wasting your life away? Where are you?”
“I’m in Detroit. I’ve been working and getting by for the last eight months, Dad. Believe it or not, I’m capable of taking care of myself?”
“Then why are you calling? After all this time? Why not just send another postcard.”
I took a deep breath. “It’s freezing out and there’s no work. I tried to use my ATM card but it was denied—”
“Of course it was. I told you. I warned you… I gave you a chance to get your shit together. I’m not going to support you wasting your life away. I cut you off the second you left. You want to fuck up your life then you do it on your own dime. I’m not paying for it.”
My eyes widened, jerking my head back in shock.
“Wow… you didn’t even think I could do it on my own,” I stated as a question. "You’ve never believed in me."
“Why would I? You obviously proved my point or you wouldn’t be calling asking for money. Now would you?”
I scoffed. “Do me a favor, old man, and don’t worry. This won't cost you anything, except your son, which doesn’t seem to matter to you anyway. The next time you wonder where I am… if I’m dead or alive? Just remember this conversation. I have no friends, and now…” I paused to let my words sink in.
“I have no parents.” I hung up.
It fucking killed me to say that to him. At the end of the day they were still my parents, regardless of all the bullshit.
I love them.
I stood there feeling like a huge piece of my heart was torn out, breaking on the concrete beneath my feet. I wanted them to understand it wasn’t about the money or them cutting me off. I could do this on my own. I was grown-ass man, an adult. I guess I was just expecting unconditional love.
Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? No matter what?
The phone ringing pulled me out of my internal struggle. I debated on answering it, but my hand moved on it’s own and before I knew it, the phone was against my ear.
“Austin…” Mom coaxed, her voice a soft whisper.
I leaned my head against the payphone, not caring how cold the metal was. My eyes burned so damn bad from the tears waiting to fall. I had closed my lids to keep them at bay and relieve the ache.
“Austin… please keep sending me postcards. Just tell me where to send the money, but please don’t stop letting me know you’re safe. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing. I just need to know you’re okay,” she added.
I listened intently, holding back the tears that threatened to fall, one by one, right after the other.
“We love you, Austin. Your dad is just hurt. You’re our baby. Austin... Austin, do you hear me? I love you.”
A single tear fell from my face and I murmured, “I love you, too.”
And I hung up the phone.
Briggs
“Fuck you feel good,” he rasped against my ear, softly kissing down the side of
my neck. His lips felt as smooth as I remembered, making their way down to my breasts. Licking and sucking my nipple into his mouth.
My breathing hitched when he cupped my pussy with his rough, calloused fingers.
“I want to fuck you with my fingers,” he groaned against my mouth, biting on my lower lip.
He gripped the back of my neck with his strong, warm hand. Holding me in place, working my clit, back and forth in slow torturous movements. He deepened our kiss, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy. My legs, stomach, and body quivered, tightened, and spasmed all at once.
Our breathing escalated. My head fell back as my mouth opened wider. It was forceful, urgent, and demanding. The way his tongue sinfully played with mine. He tasted like whiskey, cigarettes, and weed, with a hint of peppermint, causing a loud, moan to escape my mouth.
My back arched off the bed when his fingers slipped inside me, angling straight for my g-spot, as if he knew my body better than I did.
“Here…” he huskily groaned, hitting my sweet spot over and over again. “You’re going to come,” he stated, taking me over the edge.
I panted, fisting and clawing the sheets all around us.
He kissed every last inch of my skin as he slid down my body. When he reached where I wanted him the most, I gazed down at him through hooded eyes, while he stared up at me with a piercing blue gaze that tore into my soul.
“I want to fuck you with my tongue,” he rasped, slipping his tongue into my opening.
My eyes closed and head fell back against the bed. He devoured me, sucking on my clit as I rode his face, fast and hard. Coming apart yet again in a matter of seconds.
He gripped me firmer. His fingers dug into my hipbones as he thrust his tongue in and out of me. Eating all the wetness that he evoked from me, like I was his favorite fucking meal.
My body fell forward as if hanging off from cliff and I panted out, “Austin!”
I peered around my bedroom, shaken and confused when I should be anything but.
Alone.
“What the fuck?” I breathed out, waking up from yet another damn sex dream with the man I’d only met once.
My panties were soaked and my skin hot and tingling all over. My pussy still throbbed, mimicking the beating of my heart. I shook off the sentiment, pulling off the wrestled sheets that I was still grasping onto, throwing them to the side.
I took a deep breath, roughly yanking my hair away from my sweaty face.
“This can’t be normal,” I said to myself as I crawled to the end of bed, desperately needing to get up and go take a long, cold shower.
It had been nine months since I left Miami, and I still couldn’t forget about Austin. His intense blue eyes were etched in my mind.
Why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
It was like he had this hold on me. I didn't understand.
I had met him one time.
One. Fucking. Time.
It didn’t make any sense.
I stepped out of the shower and changed into a tank top and some cotton shorts. Brushing my hair and teeth while I looked into the mirror.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked my reflection before spitting toothpaste into the sink.
I opened the bathroom door and made my way out into the kitchen to grab something to eat. I loved my apartment; it was my favorite place to be. It had an open floor plan, the rooms transitioning smoothly but still connecting. My stackable washer and dryer were tucked in a closet near the kitchen, keeping my laundry hidden. My windows were floor to ceiling, letting in natural light, warming up the sharp lines.
“Are you ready for your trip?” Uncle Alejandro asked.
I gasped, my hand immediately going over my heart.
“Oh my God! You scared the shit out of me! Again! Can’t you knock? For once, fucking knock on the door like a normal person.”
He sipped his coffee, sitting at my dining table.
“I refuse to knock in an apartment that I own.”
“No shit,” I murmured, walking into my kitchen to serve myself some much-needed coffee.
“I see it’s your bitch-causing time.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I asked you a question. I don’t like waiting for an answer.”
“Mmm hmm,” I said, sitting at the island, flipping through the latest issue of Cosmopolitan.
“You don’t look ready.”
“I have a few weeks,” I said, peering away from the magazine looking into his eyes before he ordered me to.
“I give you a gift and this is the thanks I get. I’m handing you a big responsibility, peladita—”
“I’m not a little girl,” I gritted out.
He grinned, folding his arms over his chest. “Then stop acting like one. You have been handed everything on a silver-fucking platter and you still act like a bitch. Throwing fits and demanding respect. You dropped out of high school and you still get to live a life of privilege.” He gestured all around him. “How many other eighteen-year-olds can say that?"
"I'm not like most eighteen-year-olds, Uncle," I countered.
"I take care of you. I always have, Briggs. Since the day I picked you up from the hospital in Washington. If it wasn’t for me you’d have grown up in foster care. Where do you think that would have led you, eh? Dime?” he asked, “Tell me.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Let me remind you. En caso de que,” he said, “Just in case.” He stood, rounding the corner to stand in front of me.
“You wouldn’t have this million-dollar apartment, the name-brand closet, the fancy restaurants, the endless traveling around the world. How about the black credit card in your wallet? You know who pays for all that, Briggs? I do.”
I wanted to tell him that none of that mattered to me. That I never wore half the shit in the closet. That it was there because he said I needed to wear it to the upscale parties and the fancy restaurants. Everything he does for me…
Was really for him.
But I didn’t bat an eye. He was right about one thing. I embraced it or I had nothing.
This life was all I had.
It was all I ever had.
I smiled, big and wide. “I’m fucking thrilled. I can’t wait. Thank you again, Uncle, for everything," I said in a sarcastic tone.
“Better. Next time wipe off the shit-eating grin off your face.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“Why don’t you go deface your body some more? Or is there no part left on your skin to ruin?”
He hated my tattoos. Every last one of them. Especially the first one I got done on my back. To say he was livid would have been an understatement. He never asked about the meaning behind it but then again, he didn’t have to.
“Make sure you’re ready. No fucking around. Understood?”
I nodded, ignoring him, flipping through another magazine.
With that, he turned and left my apartment.
I spent the rest of the afternoon, thinking about someone…
That I shouldn’t.
Chapter 14
Austin
Over the last two months it was only me and Mike. After Detroit, we all sort of went our separate ways. I was expecting it. I never thought I was going to make lifelong friends with the people I happened to come across. It was cool while it lasted, but everyone had to move on at some point. Mike wanted to head back to his home state, New York. He said he had a lot of friends that we could crash with. We made several stops along the way, but nothing too promising or exciting to make us stay for more than a few weeks.
We worked at a couple places in Pittsburgh to earn some cash before heading to Manhattan. We arrived in New York early one morning and managed to find a shitty motel to stay at until Mike got in touch with his friends; in the meantime, we would look for some more work. New York was expensive as shit, and I was grateful we’d made some decent money over the last two months.
I took a long, hot shower, soaking it up while it la
sted. I walked out of the bathroom and Mike was lying on the bed, talking on the hotel phone.
“Yeah, I’m at Hotel Carter on West 43rd Street. Perfect, thanks.” He hung up. “Feel better?”
I nodded, setting the wet clothes I washed in the shower on the air vent to dry.
“I’m going to jump in next. I ordered us some food and shit. Answer the door.”
I nodded again, waving him off.
When I heard the bathroom door close behind him, I changed into my last pair of clean jeans, forgoing a shirt. Traveling was fucking exhausting. I plopped on the bed and stared up at the brown, water-stained ceiling.
I thought about how much I’d wanted to come to New York almost four years ago. How I wanted to start my life here, my career. There was still that sense of longing for something I could never have. After all this time…
I was still lost.
Still confused.
At least for now…
We’d been on a cramped train for the last few days. All I wanted to do was lay down. My back was fucking killing me. I had run out of pain pills the night before, and I was feeling the effect today. Mike said he would take care of it though.
The loud knock on the door startled me awake. I had just started dozing off. I could still hear the water running in the bathroom. Mike always took the longest damn showers. I stood, stretching my back for a second, trying to work out the knots. Rubbing my stomach as I made my way to the door, perfect timing.
I was fucking starving.
I opened the door and the first thing I saw were a pair of familiar bright blue eyes staring back me.
Almost knocking me on my ass.
“Austin.” She jerked back as stunned as I was.
“Briggs,” I rasped.
We both stood there looking at each other for I don’t know how long, taking one another in again as if it were the first time.
Damn, she was a sight for sore eyes.
She was wearing a white low-cut tank top that hung lose on her tiny but curvy frame. Her lacy, bright pink bra peeked out the top, revealing her ample cleavage. One of her bra straps hung low on her upper arm, the other one exposed on her shoulder. With small ripped shorts that I knew barely covered her luscious ass.