Gabe

“Gabe.”

I hear the distant sound of Tate’s voice, and then a hand shakes my shoulder.

“What? Fuck off. I’m sleeping,” I mumble, rolling away, laying my arm over my eyes.

“Gabe, get the fuck up.” That’s Julian’s voice.

I drag my arm off my face and blink wearily against the morning light.

As I look up, I see the faces of Tate, Julian, and Vaughn.

“Ugh. Jesus. What the fuck do you three want?” I roll onto my side, away from them, facing the back of the sofa. “And how the hell did you get into my apartment?”

“I have a key, remember?” Tate says.

Someone sits on the sofa by my legs.

I open an eye and see it’s Tate.

The look on his face. It looks a lot like disappointment. And it cuts right through me.

He knows. They all know.

Of course they do. It has to be all over the news by now.

GABRIEL EVANS, EX-GIGOLO AND SON OF MURDERERS

What a fucking headline. I bet the press has been pissing themselves with excitement.

I pull my anger on and wear it like a protective shield. “Don’t look at me like that, Tate.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“The hell you are.” I sit up, resting my back against the arm of the sofa, bending my knees up so that I can rest my elbows on them, and I scrub my hands over my face. “I don’t need your judgment right now, so if that’s what you all came here for, then you know where the door is.”

“We’re not here to judge you.” Julian sits on the coffee table across from me. He pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket. Gets two out. Lights one up and passes it to me, and then lights one for himself.

“Gabe, we’re here because we’re your friends, and we wanted to make sure you were okay,” Vaughn says from his spot where he’s standing, leaning against the window.

Right where I was standing last night when I got the call that changed everything.

“Or did you just come to look at the freak?”

“Gabe…” Tate’s voice is a warning.

I spot a quart of vodka left in the bottle I started on last night. I reach down and grab it from the floor. The cap’s already off, so I take a good drink.

When I’m finished, three sets of eyes are watching me.

“What?” I put my cigarette in my mouth.

“Should you be drinking right now?” Vaughn says.

“I think drinking is exactly what I should be doing right now.”

“Gabe, speaking from experience, drinking yourself into a coma isn’t going to help anything,” Julian says.

“Advice from the ex-junkie. Just what I need.” I roll my eyes and then drain the vodka before tossing the bottle to the floor.

Julian doesn’t react. But, still, I feel like a jackass. But I’m too far gone in my own pain to feel anything of real substance right now, so the emotion is gone before it can turn into guilt.

Julian takes a drag of his smoke and flicks the ash into the ashtray. “I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t just say that because I know what it’s like to be in pain and want to dull it with the nearest substance. And you were the only one who was there for me when I needed help. So, you get a free pass, Gabe. You get as many free passes as you need.”

“I don’t need free passes. What I need is to be left the fuck alone.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Tate says, settling back onto the sofa.

“Fine. Then, I’ll fucking go out.” I stub my smoke out and get to my feet.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna want to go out there.” Vaughn thumbs over his shoulder. “The paps are out in full force up front. We had to sneak in through the parking garage. And, from the looks of you, you’re not in any fit state to drive.” He gestures to the empty liquor bottles littering the coffee table.

I drive my fingers into my hair, feeling frustrated and trapped. “For fuck’s sake!” I yell. Then, I pick up one of the empty bottles and throw it against the wall. It shatters, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

The silence around me is deafening.

“You feel better?” Julian’s voice is low behind me.

“No, I don’t fucking feel better!” I whirl on him.

And then all I can see are their faces staring at me. Judging me. As if they know what it’s like to be me.

They don’t know jack shit about my life!

My head starts to pound like a drum. My blood is hot with anger.

“How the fuck am I supposed to feel right now?” I yell. “Everyone fucking knows! And then you three are here, fucking judging me! And I don’t need it! None of you knows how hard it was for me back then! I did what I had to do! And it was my business!” I pound my fist against my chest. “My private fucking business. And I trusted her, and now, everyone knows! She sold me out! She fucking…sold me out.” My voice drops to a whisper. My legs give out on me. I sink to the floor. I put my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut. “I fucking loved her, and she sold me out.”

“Jesus, Gabe.” Tate is at my side, his arm around me. “I’m so sorry.”

I lift my head from my hands and stare at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry. I know this is going to come back on you, embarrass you.”

“You think I give a flying fuck about what people think?”

“I think you’re a kids’ doctor who comes from a pair of murdering drug dealers, and your brother used to let women fuck him for money.”

“Stop thinking about how this affects me, Gabe. You don’t need to worry about me. This is about you. You’re what matters right now. I want to help you. Let me help.”

“I don’t need help. I’ll be fine.” I get to my feet, leaving him sitting there.

“You need to stop this.” Tate gets to his feet.

“Stop what?”

“Acting like I’m still fucking twelve years old. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need you shielding me from shit, Gabe. You should have told me the truth.”

I laugh without humor. “What was I supposed to say? Hey, Tate, remember when Mom and Dad were arrested, and we were on our own, so we moved out here, but I was struggling to make ends meet? Well, I started screwing women for money, so I could pay the rent.”

He shakes his head. “I could’ve helped.”

“You were a fucking kid, who just had his whole world turned upside down.”

“So were you!” he yells, frustrated.

“I’m your older brother.” I slam my hand against my chest. “It was my responsibility to take care of you. I did what I had to do. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He’s staring at me with a mixture of guilt and anger and frustration in his eyes. He looks so much like me right now that it’s terrifying.

I grab my smokes and light another one up. Staring up at the wall, I take a drag and blow out the smoke.

“Have you thought about how you’re going to handle this?” Vaughn says.

I turn my head and look over at him. “I’m not going to do jack shit.”

“They won’t let this go,” Vaughn says, like I don’t already know.

“They will if I refuse to talk about it.”

“I spoke to Gil. He called me when he couldn’t get ahold of you. They pulled together a press release. He just needs you to okay it. He emailed it over.”

“I’m not sending out any press release. I don’t have to justify myself to anyone.”

“No, you don’t. But you do have to address this with the media and your fans if you want to have a career left at the end of it,” Julian says.

“I couldn’t give a fuck about my career right now.” I walk over to the window and stare out of it.

“You say that now…”

I turn back to Julian. “Honestly, all I want to do right now is sleep. Everything else can wait.”

I toss my barely smoked cigarette into the ashtray. I walk away from the three of them, leaving them there, and go into my bedroom.

I shut the door. I fall facedown onto my bed and bury my face in the pillow.

But it smells like Speedy.

I roll onto my back and sit up, scrubbing my hands over my face.

As I draw them away, I see a pair of her bed shorts hanging over the back of the chair. Her lip balm on the dresser. One of her hair ties on my nightstand. I push up to my feet. I strip all the bedding from my bed. Then, I gather it up in my arms. I get the hair tie, lip balm, and shorts. I go over to my bedroom door, open it, and toss it all out into the hallway.

Then, I close my door, climb onto my bed, pull the duvet over my head, and shut my eyes.