Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

fuck out of here right now.”
    “Dude, we can handle a couple of—”
    “No, you can’t,” the student said. He was starting to look a little green. “Shit. Here he comes. You guys are on your own. I’m out of here.”
    He bolted, heading back in the direction he’d come, tripping over his own feet as he ran, and in the space he’d left, Adam could see Denver crossing the street, sweaty muscles bursting out of his green wifebeater looking like the god of thunder as he aimed himself at the herd of men around Adam. He didn’t say anything, just walked and glared.
    It was more than enough. By the time Denver made it to the sidewalk, the last of the bullies was streaking after his cohorts, swearing and admonishing the others to wait for him.
    Denver glared after them a moment, then turned his gaze to Adam, looking only slightly less displeased.
    Adam sank back into the bench and closed his eyes, allowing himself to shake in the way he’d been wanting to since the first catcall. He also reached into his pocket for a pill.
    “You should have called me sooner,” Denver said. He sounded pissed.
    “I was trying to be strong.” Adam popped the pill into his mouth and washed it down with tea. “Didn’t quite work.”
    “You did pretty well, from what I saw.”
    Realization dawned. “You were watching. You saw the whole thing.”
    Denver raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course I was watching. You were sitting out here all by yourself, and frat row is two streets over. No way I was doing anything else.”
    Adam blinked at Denver, surprised—and touched. “Well. Then thanks for letting me try on my own, even though I’m not sure now it was the best idea.”
    “It was good to try.” Denver sat down beside him. His gaze, too, fell on the construction workers.
    “I suppose, but I still feel rattled. I think I pushed myself too far too fast. I wanted to call you sooner, but I kept telling myself I could handle it. I fell for that magical thinking, like all I had to do was push through and I’d be cured for life.”
    Denver rubbed the back of Adam’s neck soothingly. “Sounds like you made a mistake then. I believe Sig would say, ‘way to grow.’”
    Sig would, but Adam still felt queasy. He leaned into Denver. “It was too far too fast. I should have listened to myself, and I didn’t.”
    Denver stroked Adam’s neck a few more times before speaking. “Hmm. So what you’re telling me is that you’ve done something bad, and you need to be punished.”
    Already Adam started to feel relieved, anxiety giving way to Denver’s promise to help him out of his bungle. “Yes.”
    “Then you’ll come and sit in my office to start, or in Tiny’s if mine still smells like feet, and after I shower, we’ll go back to my place and take care of things. But first we’re going to swing by the new place, because I got a call half an hour ago, and they have the whole first floor done.”
    Adam perked up at that. “They do? They fixed it?”
    Denver nodded. “The wiring and outlets are all safety ones, and the windows are now the kind you wanted, that lock fast and are easy to clean. And we’re not paying for the redo because I scared the piss out of the contractor when I pointed out we’d included all that in the building contract.”
    “You scared the piss out of him because you looked at him like you were going to pound him into the wall if he didn’t do what you wanted him to do.”
    “That too,” Denver agreed. “Still, the end result is another part of the house is the way you wanted it to be. Let’s go see it for ourselves.”
    “Yes, let’s,” Adam agreed. He tried to rise.
    Denver held him in place, not letting him. He waited until Adam looked him in the eye, and then he spoke again, this time his voice very gentle. “You’re also going to hear me say, before we go, that whether or not you pushed yourself too far or deserve to be punished for it, it was very good of you to try and push yourself, because one of these times your anxiety will be wrong, and you will be ready. Because you are strong and smart, and from what I could see from across the street, you were holding your own. That’s good, Adam, and you’re not getting out of hearing that.”
    Adam nodded, but he tried to avert his gaze, and Denver forced him to maintain eye contact.
    “You’re a good boy, Adam,” he said, no argument in his tone. He nudged Adam. “Now you say it.”
    “I’m a good boy,” Adam whispered, the