The Bad Boy's Chain

Chapter Three, Part Three - Burn

The next day, Mom pulled her monthly disappearing act. As usual, she never bothered to say good-bye.

I shook my head at the note on the fridge, wondering why, just once, she couldn't ditch Tony and skip town with me instead. Or at least say good-bye in person. I left the kitchen, wishing for a good reason to vacate too. Seven days alone with Jesse...

If we kept at it the way we were, one of us wasn't gonna make it.

That night, as if to test his luck, Jesse invited a few friends from high school to get drunk and pass out on our furniture. With the kitchen and the living room invaded, I retreated to my bed, studying through the music and laughter. Every time I thought about how much fun the rest of the world was having without me, I consoled myself with thoughts of my future credit score...

I woke up disoriented, but falling from the bed knocked some sense into me. What the hell was that noise? I jumped up, hobble-skipping my way downstairs, searching for the origin of the crash. In the living room, a giggle-snicker-hush floated beneath the rap music. The sea of snap-backs and miniskirts parted; at their core lay the coffee table-what used to be the coffee table.

It was now nothing more than a ruin, an altar of wood and glass where an semi-conscious dude sprawled like a virgin sacrifice. Jesse stood before him, hands clenched, looking about two seconds from doing another bad thing. He stared at me, the defendant waiting for judgment.

I stuck my hand on my hip, surveying the damage. "Unbelievable. That's the second one, Jess!" His answer was to storm past me and out the living room. I exhaled, his girlfriend materializing on cue. "What the hell did he do?"

Kerry scoffed. "Isn't it obvious? Jesse lost it--it was awesome!"

"Tubular..."

I shook my finger at the guy brushing off glass as he crawled to his feet. "No! Not tubular! Not tubular at all!" I turned back to Kerry, wishing for once she could try to be a good influence on her boyfriend.

Kerry laughed. "You have to be pretty pissed to Hulk-smash someone through a table, right? You know Jess as well as I. If he's mad about something, he finds an outlet--and this guy got zapped." She ran her fingers through her hair, lifting her chin in disdain. "But-hey, if it's such a big deal, I'll pay for the table. Your family shops discount, right? What's that like anyway?"

"Kerry, I'm sure you'll find that out once your father goes to prison for orchestrating a Ponzi scheme. Now, can you do me a favor and get these people out of here?"

Kerry was right, when her boyfriend got upset he had a tendency of taking his frustrations out on the closest innocent bystander. It was typical Jess behavior, which was why Kerry didn't think tonight was such a big deal-but she would have if she knew why Jess was so mad. I had a pretty good feeling the coffee table would still be intact if I hadn't lied to him about having sex with Carlos.

This whole thing was my fault.

I tracked Jesse upstairs, to my bathroom. His good hand rooted through the medicine cabinet, his bad hand dripping blood in the sink. Leaning against the doorway, I knock-knock-knocked on the wooden frame. "Truce? I promise I won't spray you with the faucet."

Jesse didn't laugh at my bad joke. He wouldn't look at me either. "If I do, can I get some real drugs?"

I sighed. "Are you okay? In case you were wondering, the guy downstairs is still breathing, though he's definitely gonna feel it when the alcohol wears off."

"Conscious already?" Jesse perused a bottle of aspirin, chucking it over his head to begin his search anew. "Well that's too bad, innit? Must be losing my touch... Why are you limping?"

"Huh?"

Out flew the Ibuprofen, followed by the Alka-Seltzer and nose spray. "Should I ask again in sign language? I can do that, y'know."

"Well, how about this. You skip the sign language and I'll skip the part where I lecture you for pulling a John Cena in the living room."

"Deal. Now where are the bloody painkillers?" We had none, the answer was him. Jesse's eyes were narcotics, his lips were stimulants, the absence of his touch was instant withdrawal. You could kick his habit, tell yourself he's no good for us, but like a drug the craving would never quite leave you...

"Quit messing around, you're on probation. Here, let me see that..." I strode forward, taking his hand in mine. They were rough, with more than a scar or two, but incredibly warm--and reactive, curling gently around mine. I smiled. "I can fix this."

"You always do. Lucky charm."

Jess sat at the edge of the tub, letting me fish the glass from his hand and cover it with a bandage. Normally he'd whine about the pain, or nitpick about my lack of bedside manner, or blame me for not stopping him from doing whatever stupid thing, but for once silence prevailed. It was a whole new language for us, filled with intimate glances and hesitant smiles. He never took his eyes from mine.

A piece of hair fell in my eyes; Jess tucked it behind my ear. I bit my lip to hide the smile, trying to keep cool beneath the rising heat. I could throw as much water as I needed. I could hold my breath and dive in. Jesse would burn me every time.

I completed my work, fingertips lingering one last time, tracing the familiar lines of his palm. I couldn't help it, his hands were sacred, like holy instruments. I knew firsthand the miracles they worked...

"Admit it." Jesse's fingers closed over mine, squeezing just enough so I couldn't pull away. "You're not really into him. He's not your type."

I knew he meant Carlos, and I knew he would say anything to keep me away from him. "You're right, he's not like the usual guys I date, but Cinderella already bagged Prince Charming. What's your deal, Jess? Why do you care so much about me and Carlos?"

"Because I know he's not right for you." Jesse's hand slid up my wrist, his fingers stroking my forearm, working their magic. "He's a bellend--a bloody turnip--he only cares about himself. Why are you with him?" I froze, enraptured by his flawless lips, from which every word spilled hard and beautiful, like a diamond. "You could do better," is what he said. "You could do me," is what I heard.

Priorities, Shar! Snap out of it! "I know I can do better." I pulled my hand from Jesse's grip and stepped back. "So can you."

Before we could discuss the mess that was his relationship, in strolled the devil herself, Prada, horns and all. Kerry strolled right past me, throwing herself on her man. Jess staggered back, gripping her waist as she pecked his lips. She closed her eyes for the kiss. Jesse didn't.

"Aww, babe, you're hurt. Wanna play nurse and patient? I can make it all better for you..." Kerry pressed her tight, supple body against his, running her fingers up and down his arms as she batted impossibly-long lashes. Nearly everything about her was fake. The only real thing was Jesse.

Jesse hugged his girlfriend but his eyes never left mine. Kerry couldn't see how hard my fingers gripped the sink's edge, but Jesse did. He grinned. "I'll do whatever you want, luv. We can go all night, just say when."

I heard the message.

I felt the burn.

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