Chapter 7
Chase
I’ve never had a live-in boyfriend, and can count on one hand the number of times a guy has spent the night in my home, but there’s a strange flutter in my belly when Mateo walks into the kitchen wearing my clothes with his hair still wet from the shower.
My dick is inappropriately hard as he combs his fingers through his hair and reaches for a coffee mug I’ve left out on the counter.
“May I?” he asks, lifting the mug.
“Of course.” I clear my throat when it sounds raspy and turn my back to adjust my dick. “I found a box of imitation blueberry muffin mix in the pantry. I used to love that shit when I was a kid, so I bought a few boxes a while ago but never made them.”
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he does. “I thought that was some sweet smelling toast and eggs.”
I chuckle. “They smell slightly better than they taste, but I never have guests, so at least I won’t eat the entire box myself.”
“I didn’t eat much yesterday because I was nervous, so I’d be happy with the box right about now.”
I grab the tray of muffins from the warm oven they’ve been in for the past twenty minutes then pull a couple out onto plates for each of us. We both sit at the small dining table for a few minutes before I broach the subject we need to address. “Do you want to talk about what had you nervous?”
Mateo stops chewing for a second then look up at me. “Not really.”
I give him a soft smile. “I know it’s hard to think about painful things from our pasts, but if you want to move forward, you have to deal with that fear.”
He shrugs and looks down at the muffin wrapper in his hand. He folds and unfolds it over and over again to stall, probably hoping I’ll give up.
But I can’t give up. I told Johnny I’d get him to safety and I’ve only partially completed that task. He’s physically safe with me, but he needs more emotional support than I’m trained to give. And until he’s ready to accept that emotional support, I need to be here for him in any way I can.
“What do you want me to say?” he asks quietly.
“Why don’t you start with last night? Why did you run out of The Vault without even stopping to get dressed or grab your things?”
Mateo inhales deeply then leans back in the chair. “I was done. I tried. I failed. It was time to be done.”
“So, when I saw you on the bridge, were you planning to jump?”
He rolls his eyes as if I’m stating the obvious. “Don’t patronize me, Chase. You know I was going to jump. I know you want to help me. I just don’t think there’s a middle ground here.”
My head rolls forward and I sigh in frustration. I’m not making this any better. In fact, I’m probably making this much worse. “I do want to help you, Mateo. And if by middle ground, you mean a scenario where you don’t kill yourself, then yeah, I think we can find one.”
He actually smiles at that. “Look, I’m gonna make this as clear as I can. I’m fucked up in the head. Yes, I can check myself into some hospital and be drugged for the rest of my life. Or I can find a dealer on the street and self-medicate until I OD behind a dumpster somewhere. Or I can just skip to the end and make it a hell of a lot easier for everyone else.”
My stomach knots at the implication of his words. He’s just as intent to kill himself today as he was last night. And I don’t have a clue how to stop him. I take a deep breath and carefully word my next question. “Why do you care about making it easier for everyone else?”
He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re so far gone that no one will even miss you, why do you care about what the people around you will have to deal with?”
He folds his arms over his chest and glares at me. “Good point. There isn’t actually anyone who will give a shit what happens to me. So, I guess there’s nothing more to discuss.”
Now I’m getting pissed. Since I’m not actually a therapist and have no clue how to approach him in a way that will get through to him, I let my own emotions take over for a bit. “You’re full of shit, Mateo, and you know it. Obviously, there are people who care about you. Johnny was practically in tears when you rode off yesterday. He said Brent has been giving him daily reports and they both really thought you were ready to go back to work. I even got a text from him this morning because the client you were with, Ronin something or other, has been blowing up his phone to make sure you’re okay. People care about you, Mateo, and you fucking know it.”
Tears fill his eyes, and I immediately hate myself for losing my temper. “But I don’t care about myself, Chase. I’m tired of trying to care when I know deep down what I really am. The act I put on for others is fucking exhausting and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep pretending that I’m better than I am. I’m not. I’m just...not.”
I can’t just sit and watch while he falls apart, so I move into the chair beside him and pull him into my arms. He’s stiff at first, but when I rub up and down his back, he slowly relaxes against me. “You don’t have to pretend for anyone, Mateo.”
He sobs against my chest even harder and I know there’s a lot more to his current situation than he’s told me so far. “But I do. If they know the truth, they hurt me. Because that’s what I deserve. It’s all I deserve.”
I gently rock him in my arms until his breathing settles and his body is calm. When I think he’s ready to talk again, I give him a squeeze before pulling back and looking him right in the eyes. “Tell me who you really are, Mateo. Tell me what you’re trying to pretend not to be. I promise, no matter what you say, it won’t change the way I feel. It won’t make me care about you any less.”