Confessions of a Wild Heart (23 page)

Jase turned sad eyes on Ase. “If you want to talk.”

He couldn’t do more than that. He left with his heart in his throat, glaring back at that asshole brother whose demeanor remained somewhere between hostile and murderous.

****

Slipping a shirt over his head, Ase listened as the front door to his apartment snicked shut.
God-fucking-dammit.

          
He was so tired of having no fucking control, of his heavy-handed family. He couldn’t believe his brother and Lizeth would show up out of the blue. He’d paid his penance, but no. Never enough for these people. The old guilt, the old weight of his being so fucking weak settled on him, and he wanted to lash out.

           The hissed conversation in Spanish coming from his living room was enough to make him feel like he was going to come undone. He went to his closet to grab sweatpants from the shelves, breathing deeply to control the boiling fury inside. His anger, resentment of himself and the people invading his space, his life again, danced like bright sparks in the periphery of his vision.

           He knew Jase would be pissed at the situation, knew he’d think Ase was fucked up, but he’d still intended to tell him all about his circumstances. Eventually. In his own time. That’d been why he’d not wanted to get involved beyond a friendship before Jase knew all the facts. He’d told Jase most of his shit, but not the most shameful of it. And that the choice had been taken from him,
again
, was enough to send him into a simmering rage.

           But that’d do nothing to help. He didn’t need cops called because he’d started a domestic fight like his brother would’ve had the situation been reversed. He’d not make this worse.

           The day had started so fucking bright and full of promise, even if still marred by his omission. Jase, who for all his closet issues, still outed himself to potential bed partners simply because he was a good guy. And Ase had let him get blindsided. After having judged the man so harshly for being closeted.

          
Batting a thousand, Ramirez.

          
Before stepping into his sweatpants his eyes lit on his skirt, rumpled on the floor. If he were a lesser man—though, right now he couldn’t imagine being lesser—he’d have worn that out to greet the fam, just for effect. This was a bad enough moment without adding a black eye to the mix.

           So into his pants he went and out into the living room he walked. He paused briefly to send a glare at the pair on his couch whose conversation stopped dead when he entered the room. Lizeth flushed; his brother crossed the room, moving toward him. Mateo had that posture that was all violence, all bullshit aggression, like a junkyard dog demanding submission from his lesser.

           Ase snorted haughtily and made his way to the kitchen, Mateo hot on his heels, to pour himself a drink. Fuck coffee. Hair of the dog was called for. Now.

           “You walk away from me?” his brother snapped.

           Ase snatched the bottle of vodka from the freezer and uncapped it, taking a burning swig before throwing a look of disdain Mateo’s way. “In my own home, you don’t come at me like this. This is
mine
.”

           “Damn right, it isn’t my home. If you’d been fucking around, being some white boy’s
puto
in my home, I’d castrate you. What are you thinking?” Ase’d barely turned to respond when Mateo stepped in his space. Even a head shorter, the man thought he was in charge. Once upon a time, maybe. Ase’d taken this abuse before. He’d moved over a thousand miles away to escape it.
“You can’t run away from family.”
His mother’s tearful voice ran in his head.

           “Your wife had to come here to see you disrespect her.”

           Ase scowled when Lizeth appeared behind Mateo. “She disrespects herself enough without my help.” She opened her mouth to respond when Ase pushed around them to go to his living room.

           “Before you get stupid,” Ase said, over his shoulder. “This is Texas. If the Mexicans start brawling, someone will call the police and all three of us will sit in jail.” He gave Lizeth his most disparaging glare. “And they’ll deport without asking questions.”

           “What are you
doing
, Alessandro?” Lizeth asked, in Spanish. Ase couldn’t be more surprised by the shock in her voice if he tried. “You have another man in your home—our home.”

           “Your home is in Southeast. This, this is mine. And I want to know…” He glared from one face to the other, pulling reserves of anger, trying to hold on to pride he didn’t have much of any more, trying to be the Ase that Jase looked at like he had four years ago and again last night. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?”

           Mateo’s finger was in Ase’s face at that. “
Mami
is crying all the time; your wife is having her citizenship questioned, and
Papi—
”

           “Don’t.” Ase’s tone was so chilly, the word so forceful, his brother winced. If that was the only satisfaction he’d get from this entire encounter, he’d take it. And he most certainly wasn’t going to talk about his
papi
. The man didn’t deserve the title. Images of that fucking awful night flashed in Ase’s mind, and his ire spiked. “Again, what do you want?”

           “
Mami
said you told her not to come. She’s devastated.” And if it wasn’t just like their mother, to, as dramatically as possible, revise their conversation to suit her agenda.

           “I never said she couldn’t come. I just said we wouldn’t spend the whole time on our knees in prayer.”

           “Oh, but you’ll get on your knees for that
gringo
.” Ase wanted to hit his brother, despising how he twisted the word Ase called Jase so fondly into something so degrading.

           Instead, he just looked at his brother drily, faking his confidence and said, “Clever.” He was too tired and too fucking sober, too emotionally wrung out for all of this.

           “We taught you this lesson once before.” He wanted to wipe the smug expression of his brother’s face. And he was ashamed to admit the word made him want to cry.
Dios
, what had happened? He’d been so close to this man once upon a time. As children they’d been close in age and their family so poor, they’d only had one another to lean on for a while; they’d been inseparable. Now, he couldn’t stand to look at the man, and the feeling, no doubt, was mutual.

           “Is that why you brought her?” Ase nodded in Lizeth’s direction, his deportation dig having clearly cowed her for now. “It didn’t work last time, you’ll notice.”

           Mateo advanced on Ase, so Ase rose to his full height, blowing up. “If you think you’ll be able to do that again. I’m not twenty-two anymore. I promise it’ll take more than just you this time.” Mateo’d had help last time as well, but Ase hadn’t put up a fight when they’d come at him. He’d still hoped, wished. He’d had no idea.

           Lizeth gripped Mateo’s arm. “
Mateo, por favor.
If the
policía
are called…”

           “And you
are
trespassing,” Ase said. “So just go.”

           Mateo huffed and puffed. “I’m so sad for you,
mi hermano.
You have the most promise. But you throw it away.”

           “What the fuck do you
want
?” Ase asked, throwing his hands up, his resolve cracking. “I’m a fucking
doctor
. I pay my bills
and
hers. I am not still in San Diego, embarrassing the
familia
.” He spit the latter with as much venom as he could muster. “I don’t know why I can’t be left alone.”

           “You only have two more years doing this.” Mateo gestured toward the bedroom. “
Mami
and
Papi
put you through school; let you have freedoms, so you could pay it forward. You’re supposed to take care of the
familia;
not run from them, humiliate them.” Mateo’s tone was almost as sad as it had been angry earlier. Ase slumped into the recliner by the couch.

           “I’ve given the
familia
all I have. I can do no more.” He was stunned to hear himself say it. “But you’re right. I will take care of them, because that’s what
familia
is. Even if I can’t get the same from them.” He looked at Lizeth. “And you should be ashamed, because you want for nothing.”

           She had the grace to look abashed. He knew she wouldn’t feel it for long, though.

           “Go,” Ase said, with finality.

           “
Si, Mateo,
let’s just leave. There’s time.”

           The room was silent for a moment while Mateo seethed at the dismissal. So much for the whole sad, “we miss you” routine. “Okay,” he said. “But this isn’t over. We are in town until Monday.”

           “Awesome,” Ase drawled.

           After watching them exit, Ase had a brief moment of pride that he’d stood up for himself for the first time since his brothers and father decided to
help
him. He hated that he
still
didn’t want his family to turn their backs on him; he hated that he couldn’t just tell them to go to hell. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled. Hard.

           “Fuck!” he screamed at the walls.

           Of course Jase had given Ase back some of his
joie de vivre
. Ase’d felt like himself for the first time in so long over the last few weeks. Thoughts of Jase and how the morning’s
gilipolleces,
this fucking nonsense and hysterics from people who Ase had grown to despise as much as he loved them,
had detonated the fragile bond he and Jase’d started rebuilding.

           Jase’d looked resigned, like he’d given up. Why wouldn’t he? Ase had been so close to giving up on himself, why shouldn’t Jase?

           Fuck, his heart hurt, and the light dimmed when he realized he was back to square one with his family, possibly with Jase also, and he was tired of his shoulders feeling so fucking heavy.

Chapter 21

JASE’S mother had returned to her sunny disposition—that’s to say, was a complete grump. But Ms. Jacklyn seemed to be taking the brunt of her disdain when Jase returned home from Ase’s that morning. Maybe she’d read his own mood and discerned, even in her feeble state, that crossing him wouldn’t be wise. He felt bad for Ms. Jacklyn and offered to sit with his mother while she had lunch. She’d tried to refuse, but really, he didn’t want to sit alone in his cottage with his own thoughts, so he gladly sat on the couch listening to his mother complain about, well, everything.

She didn’t seem to have the same edge to her she’d carried the last several times he’d been around; though docile, she was not.

After a while of picking through his phone, his mother’s voice caught his attention.

“Did you say something?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Being a miserable old woman.” She didn’t sound pleased referring to herself as old.

He smiled despite himself. “You’re not old.”

She scoffed. “Well, at least you didn’t try to bullshit me and say I wasn’t miserable.”

“I do my best not to lie to people’s faces.” He hated how bitter the words were as they hung there in the air. She tilted her head, but thankfully didn’t question him. Of all the things he didn’t want to discuss with her, Ase topped the list. And surprisingly, not because it’d out him. He was hurt and raw. He didn’t know what the fuck to think. He was torn between wishing Ase would call and explain, and just saying
Why am I even trying?
He’d thought they were good. He’d wanted to let himself fall. Had done, if he was honest with himself.

           No, he wasn’t in love, but he damn sure had started accepting he could fall that far with a little encouragement. And Ase had given it. He knew Ase’d been holding
something
back. Knew that drag wasn’t his biggest secret. Hell, Jase’d fallen even harder having gotten to see all of Ase,
seeing
Ase.

           But fuck. A wife? That was… a surprise.

           He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, and Ase’d said it was complicated. But, wow.

           “Were you expecting company?” his mother asked.

           “Ma’am?” he asked, confused.

           She pointed toward the large picture window behind the couch where he sat. “There’s a car out in front of your place.”

           Jase turned around, startled. No, he most definitely hadn’t expected company. He recognized the sedan, though. He’d only seen it in the parking lot of Ase’s apartment, but it was definitely Ase’s. And the man himself sat on the steps on Jase’s front porch, staring at the ground and sipping from a Big Gulp cup from one of the local chain gas stations.

           “Friend of yours?” his mother asked.

           “Um. Yeah.” He didn’t know whether to be elated Ase was there or nervous. Hell, part of him just wanted to be pissed at the audacity of the man to show up like he had every right. But Jase had done the same thing to Ase last night. Of course, after the morning they’d had he… well, hell, he hadn’t even had time to get his thoughts in order so as to be able to respond to whatever Ase might have to say about the situation.

           Was he a fool for still hoping? The man had been nothing but fucking trouble since he’d come back around. How many times could their little—friendship? How many times could they rise from the ashes?

           “Oh, go on. Jacklyn’s just in the other room. I’ll sit here like a good invalid. Obviously your friend has something he needs to say if he’s just waiting on you like that.” Her curious gaze flicking between the window and Jase was disconcerting to say the least. She was almost conciliatory, perhaps a little too knowing. He didn’t think she knew the score completely, but she knew something was off.

Although he wished it was just
right
and not off.