Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

He liked to help his family as much as he could, but let others shine as he stayed on the sidelines and supported them. Now Mom put him under the spotlight, and even Dad whose vision was so bad he could barely work out shapes faced Dane, all tense.

“Yes, I was with him, but it wasn’t because I wanted to disappear on you. I had to!”

Dad squeezed Mom’s hand and swallowed, and while his vision had been limited since his accident, Dane felt the weight of his attention. “Son… did you stay away because you thought we wouldn’t accept you the way you are?

“We had our suspicions,” Mom added, with more more cheerfulness than the situation warranted, and Dane leaned back so rapidly his foot twisted under his scooting form, sending him to his ass.

“Whoa! Hold your horses!”

Mark crossed his arms on his chest. “So he’s not your boyfriend?”

Air got caught in Dane’s throat, and he peeked at Jag’s limp hand. At the hair peppered on its back. At the callouses that had felt so rough on Dane’s skin when they’d fucked like two wild beasts. How would he even begin to explain what Jag was to him?

“It’s okay, Dane. You never showed any interest in girls, so we figured you might be gay,” Mom said, but Dad shook his head with a scowl.

“Which doesn’t excuse your disappearance. We’ve been worried sick!”

Mark tut-tutted as if he was the oldest person in the room, not a seventeen-year-old still in high school. “You left because you assumed we wouldn’t accept your boyfriend? Wow, Dane. Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?”

Dane sucked in air, but before he could have come up with an appropriate excuse that might hopefully keep his family in the dark while also guaranteeing their safety, the bell rang.

“Who could it be so late?” Mom asked, but Mark was already on it, shuffling out of the room and toward the front door. At least this break offered Dane enough time to consider his options.

But then it hit him that if Jag had found him, so could Frank. He’d thought he had until tomorrow at least, but he’d underestimated the direness of his situation. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he whispered and headed for the garden, intent on hiding behind the shed.

Breathless, he opened the back door, ready to navigate in the dark, but a figure with broad shoulders emerged into the faint glow seeping through the window and pushed him back in before he could have placed his foot on the steps outside.

“Shane,” he uttered, but Jag’s friend shook his head and smiled despite the ice in his eyes.

“Don’t you fucking Shane me. You’re going back in.”

“Who are you?” Mom asked in a raised voice, and even Dad got up from his chair, adding to Dane’s growing panic.

“Everybody calm down,” Shane said, raising his big hands. “We just need to have a little chat.”

If Shane’s presence wasn’t stressful enough, Frank stomped into the living room, followed by Mark.

“I told him he can’t come in!” Mark complained as if Frank were a vampire who could be kept from crossing the threshold by the magical power of words.

All was lost.

“Look, I’ll go with you, okay? Just leave my family in peace,” Dane said, raising his hands.

Frank’s heavy, dark brows seemed to drop under their weight. “What do you think this is, boy? We’re not the Mafia.”

Shane stood by the large framed photo of the whole Whitaker family hung close to the television and frowned at Dane. “We just need to talk.”

“Jesus Christ!” Frank had only now spotted Jag and ran over to the sofa with his hardened expression melting like ice cream in July. “Is he okay? Damn idiot!”

“He fainted but seems fine,” Mom mumbled, cautiously watching the strangers who’d invaded her house.

Mark cleared his throat and pointed toward the kitchen. “Should I like… put on the hot water?”

“Coffee for me,” Shane said and settled in a chair, his eyes piercing Dane like two very big, and very painful needles.

“He appeared out of nowhere,” Dane said, joining Frank by Jag’s side.

Frank scowled at Dane as he pushed some hair off Jag’s sweaty cheek. “I told you to stay at the hospital. He wouldn’t have overexerted himself like this if you did the reasonable thing.” He took a deep breath and looked back at Dane’s parents. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but we’ll explain everything. No need to worry. My name’s Frank, and this is our friend,” he gestured to Jag.

“So he’s been staying with you all?” Mom asked, and when Dane saw her go a bit pale, he knew it was time to act.

“Not like that, Mom!”

“Would someone explain why Dane disappeared on us?” Dad demanded and slammed his open hand on the coffee table. It wasn’t too forceful of a gesture, but in a man who was calm by nature, it betrayed strong agitation.