Bad Influence (31 page)

Without talking it out, Silver and Eli had taken a position in front of Marco on Quinn’s yard.

Timo raced up, finger stabbing at Silver’s chest. “You. I told you if you came around him again, I’d kill you.”

“He came to us,” Eli said.

“I don’t care who came to who. Marco, get in the car. These boys aren’t your friends. They only want to make you like them.
Maricons.
”

“Seriously? Faggot is the best you got?” Eli rolled his eyes. “’Cause I’ve never heard that before.”

Silver snuck a look around Timo at who he was guessing was Ernesto. He was about a yard back, looking like he’d rather be getting a root canal than standing there. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t wade in if it came to swinging. And if Eli kept baiting Timo, it would. There was a vein throbbing in his temple that might be one extra corpuscle away from an aneurysm.

“Marco, I told you to get in the car, or I swear—” Timo tried to go around them on Silver’s side. When Silver moved to keep Marco behind him, that was the trigger. Timo shoved Silver out of the way.

Silver hadn’t decided when he knew no fucking way was this guy taking Marco anywhere, but his hand made a fist as he regained his balance. Before he could swing, there was an arm then a body between them.

Zeb.

Timo let loose a stream of Spanish Silver couldn’t follow. But Zeb did. Silver had forgotten Zeb had spent his junior year of high school as a foreign exchange student in Argentina.

When Silver’s ears caught up, he whispered a translation to Eli. “Zeb asked if Marco was eighteen. Timo says Marco is, but he’s too young to know and is something-something about the Internet.” So much for Silver’s straight A’s in Spanish.

Marco leaned in. “Timo thinks I got crushes on boys from watching TV shows on the Internet.” He made a disgusted face. “Now they are arguing about religion.”

“Good luck winning that round with Zeb,” Silver told them.

Marco nodded. “Zeb can quote a lot of the Bible.”

He was relieved when it went back to screaming rather than swinging. Quinn had his arms folded as he stood next to Ernesto. Silver liked their odds if things got physical again.

“Marco,
chico
, what did Father Rossi tell you?” Timo had gone from demanding to cajoling.

“That God made me and He loves me.” Marco grinned.

Silver tried not to laugh.

The vein in Timo’s temple bulged. “What did he say about homosexuals?” His accent got thicker on the last word.

“He said loving others is what God wants but any kind of sex before marriage was a sin and I should carry a rosary and say my prayers if I start thinking about sex.”

“See?” Timo threw his hand heavenward, as if he could get God to help make a point on his behalf.

Marco blinked then held his eyes wide open in innocence. “Is that what happens when your
nov
—girlfriend Tessa comes over and you go in the bedroom and close the door? You say the rosary together? I’ve never heard it like that.”

“That’s different.” The words came from behind Timo’s clenched teeth.

“How?” Eli’s teeth were bared.

Silver relaxed his fist, swallowing back not acid frustration but a warm burst of pride. Theirs was the winning side for once.

Marco pressed the advantage. “Because a pussy is better than an ass?”

“Because, God, Marco, because that’s how you make babies. That’s why it’s different. If that happens, I’ll marry Tessa.”

“Blow jobs don’t make babies,” Marco said. “Doesn’t she suck—?”

“
No mas.
” Timo spit at their feet. “That’s it. You come home with us right now or—” Before Silver could stop him, Timo grabbed Marco by the arm and was hauling him forward.

Marco dug in his heels, twisting, tearing at Timo’s grip until he was free.

“There is no or.” Timo’s voice was flat. “You have no choice.”

“That’s not true.” Quinn’s voice was calm, but the rumble of it got Timo’s attention.

Zeb stood next to Marco. “Do you want to go back with your brother?”

Marco shook his head.

“
Eso es estúpido. Chico
, where will you stay?”

Quinn looked Marco in the eye. “You can stay here until you decide.”

“Quinn?” Eli sucked in the name on a gasp.

“So you can fuck him too? Pimp Daddy doesn’t have enough boy whores?” Timo snarled at Quinn.

Marco’s gaze flicked from Quinn to Timo and back to Silver.

He wanted to tell Marco to be safe. Silver just didn’t know what the safest choice was. He couldn’t imagine Marco managing to live with Timo after this, and Quinn and Eli would try to help—but Silver had thought he’d be safe with Zeb.

Marco backed away from Timo.

“You do this and you have no home, you understand?” Timo shook a finger in Marco’s face. “No family. Nothing.”

Marco turned away. Silver saw the shine of tears on his eyes. “
Si. No tiene familia.
”

“Don’t think your sisters will help you because you are the baby. When I tell them what you are, they won’t want you around their children.”

Marco stumbled, and Silver caught him, hugging him close. “It’s okay.”

“I knew you were the one who did this to him.” Timo glared at Silver over Marco’s head.

Marco’s arms went around Silver’s waist, and Silver hung on to him, staring Timo down.

“You made your choice,
chico
.”

Timo turned around and started back for Ernesto’s car. Marco squeezed Silver harder.

Eli tapped Silver on the back. “Take him into the house.”

Silver walked Marco up the steps. He was crying, but silently, which bothered Silver a lot more than if Marco had been ranting.

He stopped in the foyer, unsure, Marco’s arm still clinging like a tentacle to Silver’s waist.

“You want a drink—water or something?”

Marco shook his head.

Eli came in, Marco’s backpack over one shoulder. Silver met his gaze over Marco’s head.

They’re gone,
Eli mouthed, then jerked his chin in the direction of the stairs.

“C’mon up to my room.” Silver urged Marco toward the stairs.

At the top, Marco rubbed his face with the hand not twisted into Silver’s shirt. “
El baño?
”

Silver steered him toward the bathroom. “I’m not holding it for you though.”

Marco gave him a weak smile.

As soon as the door shut behind Marco, Silver’s text alert went off.

Eli.

Don’t leave him alone.

Yeah. I’m not a total asshole, thanks,
Silver sent back. He hoped Eli didn’t mean in the bathroom. After Silver heard the toilet flush, he knocked and the door swung open.

Marco was washing his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I am a—
el pato
, a pussy.”

“No, you’re not.” Silver went into the linen closet across the hall for a towel. “You stood up to him. That takes guts.”

Marco’s knuckles showed white where he gripped the washcloth. “I couldn’t—it was too much, every day. But I didn’t think—”

“Yeah.” Silver had known his parents weren’t going to like it. He just hadn’t known they’d rather see him dead. “I don’t think anybody does.”

“After my parents died,
mi ab
—grandparents raised us in Cozumel, and then Timo and Isabella here. My classes. I can’t pay for my classes.” Marco bent over the sink, looking like he was going to puke.

Silver put a hand on Marco’s shoulder and made a tentative pat on his back. “Want to shower?”

Marco looked up at him with a lopsided smile. “But you’re not washing it for me? No.” He tossed the washcloth in the sink. “I can’t—I can’t think about anything, it all goes…” He raised a finger and spun it around like an out-of-control carousel.

“So don’t.”

They went into Silver’s room. Marco perched on the edge of the bed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Silver didn’t give the cue, but his mind called up his first night, trying not to sneeze, hidden with the dust bunnies under Marissa’s bed until her parents left for work and she could drive him into Shrewsbury to the bus stop. He still owed her for the ticket.

Silver gave Marco a gentle shove, and he sprawled back.

“Does this mean a pity fuck?”

Silver choked. The first thing that came to his mind,
Where did you hear that?
made him feel a hundred years old.

“No.”

“Pity blow job?”

“Not happening.” Silver stretched out on his back next to Marco.

“Is that your boyfriend? The one with the long hair?” Marco rolled on his side, supporting his head with a cocked elbow.

The boyfriend part of it was debatable but not worth getting into with Marco. “Yeah.”

“He’s cute, but not what I thought you would like. He’s…quiet. I thought someone strong with nice muscles.” Marco made a biceps flex.

Silver pictured the cut over Zeb’s hips, how he should have licked them yesterday when he had the chance, remembered the power in his thighs, the unfamiliar damage to his hands. “He’s strong enough.”

“Thank him. And thank you. For saving me. Again.”

“Thank Quinn. I didn’t do anything.”

“But they helped me because of you. Because it’s your family.”

It’s only because of the judge.
The protest came immediately to mind, but Silver didn’t say it. Because they kind of were. A family.

Marco rolled onto his other side, facing away. Silver figured Marco was crying again, but he obviously didn’t want Silver to see.

Silver stroked a hand through Marco’s curls.

“Is it always this bad?” Marco asked.

“At first. It gets better.” Maybe Silver should lie. But Marco deserved to know. “But it always hurts.” He put an arm around Marco and held him until he fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty

Silver jerked awake. He’d never intended to fall asleep. Marco was breathing deeply, curled in a tight ball like a kitten. Checking his phone, Silver found out he’d only been out for about twenty minutes, and Eli had sent a text every two minutes.

I didn’t mean for you to fuck him.

What are you doing up there?

OMG cops R here

It’s OK. Quinn does responsible suburban homeowner well.

Jamie showing up helped.

Brother didn’t call cops. Nosy neighbor.

Mrs. Murdoch. Sounds like a character on a sitcom.

We’re getting pizza.

Silver slipped downstairs. Voices in the dining room had him headed there in time to hear Jamie complain, “Christ, why the hell can’t these damn kids wait till they leave home before they announce they like dick. Like we did.”

“That’s your solution?” Quinn’s growl was so different than his usual calm voice. Silver saw a little of what got Eli so hot and bothered.

“How much of a choice do you think I had?” Eli said. “I didn’t announce it. I couldn’t fucking hide it.” He glanced up as Silver came in. “How is he?”

Silver shrugged. “Asleep.” He clamped down on a sigh of relief when Zeb came in from the kitchen. Silver had expected him to have taken off after the showdown was over.

Zeb met Silver’s eyes and gave him a smile that made him feel like the only person in the room.

Jamie slammed back against his chair. “And in the meantime you’re going to run a home for wayward youth? I think the cops thought you were running a stable of boys out of here.”

“The problem is that there isn’t anyplace in the city for them to go.” Zeb leaned against the archway to the kitchen. “Like a safe house.”

“Well, Quinn can’t take ’em all in. Do you even have a bed for this one?” Jamie jerked a thumb toward the ceiling.

The doorbell rang, and Quinn pushed to his feet. “We can handle it.” He paused to rest his hands on Eli’s shoulders for a moment then went into the hall.

“I’ll get napkins.” Eli shoved back from the table, glaring at Jamie.

Silver followed Eli into the kitchen, pausing to whisper, “Don’t take off, okay?” to Zeb. As Silver opened the fridge he asked Eli, “Beer or soda?”

“His Royal Asshattedness can deal with iced tea.” Eli got down some glasses.

“Um. Thanks. For bailing out Marco like that.”

“Quinn did it. I had no idea what the fuck we were going to do.” Eli leaned his back against the counter and shoved his bangs out of his face. “He gets kind of— I think he’s trying to help me back then? Not that it makes any sense.”

Since Silver wondered if Zeb had been doing the same thing when he got in Timo’s face, it did. But explaining that to Eli was too complicated, so Silver nodded.

Eli sighed. “Man, can you imagine if we’d had a place like that to go to instead?”

“A place like what?” Silver stepped around him. “Plates?”

“Yeah. A place like Zeb said. For queer kids with no place else to go.”