Yesterday's Gone: Season One

stupid.
    Callie said she didn’t want to risk his friendship, but he couldn’t imagine how they could be friends with her knowing how he felt. It would be awkward as hell, and Bob would surely pick up on it and have a good ole laugh.
    Charlie cried himself empty, then forced himself to stand, though he was unsure what he would do.
    He took the stairs to the second floor and found himself in a spacious master bedroom that put Derek’s to shame. Though the room was dark, Charlie could see it was beautifully decorated. The bed was huge, bigger than a King-sized bed, for sure. And though unmade, it looked inviting, far more than the uncomfortably sterile beds in Derek’s guest rooms.
    The bed was fluffy-looking, had a ton of pillows, and a giant thick white comforter, smooth and cool as a soft pillow. He slipped into the bed to see how it felt. He was asleep in minutes.

    **

    When Charlie woke, he wasn’t alone.
    A guy was standing in the corner, maybe in his early thirties. He had thick dark hair, jeans, boots, and a black jacket. If Hollywood was casting for a bad ass to star in a movie, this would be the guy they called.  
    “That’s some bruise you got there,” the man said.
    Charlie wanted to ask who the hell he was, but realized he was dreaming, and that the man wasn’t a threat.
    “Yeah,” he said, “My asshole stepdad.”
    “My old man used to knock me around, too. Fuckin’ cunt.”
    “Someone beat you up?”
    “I wasn’t always a tough guy. I used to be a scrawny kid. But once I learned what I needed to learn, I took control of my life.”
    “What did you do?” Charlie asked.
    The man looked at him, eyes cold as steel. “You don’t wanna know. Let’s just say, nobody fucks with Boricio no more.”
    Boricio.
    “Yeah, well, Bob’s pretty scary,” Charlie explained.
    “They’s all scary. But you know what … they’re all scared o’ somethin’ too. Everyone has a weakness. You just need to find it.” He leaned forward. “When you find a pussy, you fuck it.
    “Fuck it?” Charlie asked.
    “Yeah, fuck it,” Boricio said, then made a slitting motion across his neck.

    **

    Charlie woke in a sweat, fully expecting to see the man from the dream in the corner of the room.
    The morning sun came in through the drapes, motes of dust floating on the rays. Charlie glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It must’ve been battery operated, as it was still showing the time.
    8:04 a.m.
    Shit, they’re probably looking for me.
    He went to the curtains and looked across the road. The blinds were closed on all the rooms, so he couldn’t see if they were awake, let alone looking for him. Maybe they were still sleeping.
    He considered returning to the house, but he couldn’t face Callie. Couldn’t stand to look her in the eyes after running from the room, crying like a baby. Maybe he would stay in this house. It wasn’t on the water, but it was nice. Better than he’d ever have done for himself, for sure. He’d stay here until the government, or whoever was in charge now, came around to put things back together.
    Tell Bob to fuck himself . I got my own house . I live under my own roof. MY rules. And I’ll grow my hair longer than Jesus.  
    He took a shower; the water was cold like at Derek’s. Then he made breakfast — peanut butter on a bagel. He thumbed through some magazines, mostly old issues of Popular Science and People.
    Charlie walked through the house, looking at the evidence of a life once lived, trying to imagine the family who called this place home until Saturday. A retired couple with a college-aged son, judging from photos. Lots of vacation pics, tropical islands, skiing, and all the other shit rich people did. From what he could tell, they lived pretty good lives.  
    Happy lives for a happy family.
    He felt a pang of sadness, then started thinking of his mother and how cruelly he had judged her the past few years for being so subserviant to Bob. Now that he’d been under Bob’s spell a few days, he could see how chaotic life could be on your own. Especially when you were a heartbroken widow looking for someone to spend time with and maybe fill the void in your life. She’d been single a long time before opening her heart to another.
    And how did Bob repay? By being an abusive fuck.
    Everyone has a weakness. You just need to find it. When you find a pussy, you fuck it.
    Oh, how he’d love to wipe that fucking smile from Bob’s face. Take a bat and just smash