Chapter 26

There was a spiral staircase on one side of the living room that led up to the two bedrooms. The master had a walk-out balcony, and Kat rather proudly showed off her “view,” meaning that if you stepped all the way to the far left hand side of the balcony and jumped, you could actually see a little bit of the ocean. Probably. But mostly the view was obscured by a giant hotel. And beach. A shiny patch of sand glittered between the buildings, surrounded by scrubby palm bushes.

“This is nice,” he said honestly, and tried not to think about the apartment in New York. It had been smaller than this, because of the New York cost of living, and they’d decorated very differently, but there was a similar sense of pride and—

Nope, not thinking about it. Andy stuffed his hand in his pocket and made a fist. It was done, gone, the past, and he wasn’t ever going back. The last…God, had it been nearly three weeks already? Those weeks had been some of the best Andy’d had in years, despite the chronic shortage of funds and constant low-level worry about not having any ID or any idea what he was going to do when his apartment’s itinerant renter returned in the fall.

He’d forgotten, with Nick, how nice it was to spend time with people. More than one person. Different people, sometimes. He’d run errands with Scooter or see the sights with Kat or shoot the breeze with D’ante while working on that somehow always-needing-a-tune-up truck of his. Hell, he’d spent one of his off-afternoons down at the S-turn watching the teenagers trying to do tricks on their skateboards and helping Raneisha with her math, because he’d accidentally let it slip that he’d been an engineering student, once upon a time. And now this.

Nick had pouted and fumed when Andy hadn’t gone along with Nick’s plans. Had thrown jealous tantrums whenever Andy tried to make plans without Nick. Had monopolized Andy’s attention whenever they were out with Nick’s friends, so Andy hadn’t been able to really get to know them. Had, slowly but surely, cut Andy off from everyone and everything exceptNick.

He’d even been hinting that they could get by on Nick’s paycheck alone, once his next promotion came through. It’d been couched in careful terms of it being a privilege for Andy—but it would have cut Andy off even from the people he worked with. That dream hadn’t been born out of anything like real love and affection, nor concern for Andy’s well-being, or inability to hold down a job, however it was presented. It was about control

Had he even spoken to his college friends in the last…four years? Christ. He didn’t think so. He’d sent a Christmas card to his freshman roommate’s family, the year Andy wouldhave graduated. But he and Nick had been just about to move, so he hadn’t bothered to put a return address on it, and the next year, Nick had offered to address all their cards…

Shit, shit. Andy’s throat closed and his vision blurred. He’d been at school for two years before dropping out to move in with Nick, and he’d made plenty of friends in that time, but he had no idea where any of them were or if they were even still alive. They probably believed he’d forgotten all about them. Which was fair, because he had, without ever meaning to.

Fuck. Nick’s abuse had gone a lot deeper than the one time he’d finally lost control and actually hit Andy; it had been going on for years, and just because it was more subtle than his father’s fists, Andy had completely missed it.

He clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back the undignified sob that was trying to escape, and focused his eyes firmly on the pale little patch of sand that was Kat’s “view.” He couldn’t…not here, not now. Later. Later, in the dark, with no one to witness but the dog, he would rage yet again at all the things Nick had stolen from him. Now, he had to swallow it down, be calm, be—

“We’re all planning to spend the Fourth of July at Busch Gardens,” Kat said, casual, pretending not to notice his sudden distress while giving him something to focus on. Andy could have kissed her for that. “Scooter always closes Dockside for Independence Day. He says it is out of respect, but really, he’s soft on Jason.”

Andy managed to swallow back the knot in his throat enough to rasp, “On Jason?” Andy’d overheard numerous tourists planning their schedules; Busch Gardens was an amusement park an hour or so north, in Williamsburg. Andy vaguely recalled the bus stopping in the town on his way down, and he was continually confusing it with the neighborhood in New York of the same name.