Children of the Knight, Michael J. Bowler [classic book list txt] 📗

I?” Jack indicated the spot beside him.

Lance nodded again, and Jack sat beside him so their bodies touched. He needed that human contact, and figured Lance did, too. “I knew you’d be here. It’s where I would’ve gone.”

No answer.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Mark,” Lance answered hollowly. “And you.”

“Me?”

Lance turned his head, those sad green eyes settling on Jack. “When did you know you were in love with him?”

Jack’s heart leapt into his throat, and his breath momentarily stopped. The question blindsided him, and he took a moment before answering, to steady his uncertain voice. “You probably won’t believe this, but I… I think I knew it the first time I looked into those swimming pool eyes of his that seemed to go on forever.”

“Really?” Lance asked, a slight smile enlivening his sad features.

Jack nodded, his breath coming more easily now, the memories somehow not so painful as he would have thought. He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the far wall of the alley where someone had scrawled “love hurts.”

Yeah, it sure as hell does.

“I was already, you know, working, for a couple a months when Mark showed up on the boulevard one night. He was so small, so skinny, so blond, and so lost that I just knew I had to help him. So I walked up and introduced myself and asked how old he was.” Jack paused, the memories flooding him with simultaneous waves of delirious joy and unabashed anguish.

Lance leaned in, clearly wanting to hear more.

Jack pulled himself together, glancing shyly over at Lance. “Sorry, it’s just, you know, hard.”

Lance reached out and took his hand. Surprised, Jack felt the warmth of Lance’s smooth young fingers intertwined within his own, and squeezed back gratefully.

“He was so scared and so shy, and I was a pretty big kid, even at fifteen.” Jack had to catch his breath a second, and Lance gave his hand another little squeeze. “I guess I kind a scared him, you know, Lance?”

Lance nodded.

“Anyway, I told him it was okay, that I’d protect him. That’s when he looked up, and that’s when I fell right into those amazing blue eyes. He smiled that shy little smile of his, said his name was Mark. I guess he told his story. I hardly remember. Everything blurred except those deep blue eyes that seemed to carry me straight to heaven. I felt like I’d never felt for any other boy, even the first boy I ever kissed. I knew at that moment I loved him.” He paused. “And I still do, even though he’s gone.” He choked back a wrenching sob.

Lance squeezed the hand more tightly.

Silence filled the air with its invisible weight and just held them both in place a moment.

When Jack said nothing more, Lance released his hand and slumped back against the wall. “Thanks, Jacky, for telling me.”

There was an unexpected moment of unalterable peace between them.

“Everyone misses you, Lance, and Arthur’s out of his mind with worry.”

Lance looked up. “He is?”

“Hell, yeah,” Jack confirmed, knowing he had to convince his friend, somehow, of his own worth. “We got a big operation goin’ down tonight, and Arthur can’t hardly concentrate ’cause he misses you so much.”

“Is he mad at me? Does he blame me?”

“Hell, no!” Jack insisted as forcefully as he could. “He loves you, man, I told you that, and he wants you back more’n anything.”

“Did he like, actually say that, you know, that he loves me?” His shimmering eyes expanded with hope.

“No,” Jack admitted, seeing that hope vanish like the setting sun. “But he does.” He paused. “Reyna said she loves you too.”

“Reyna?”

Jack blushed. “She kissed me and told me to pass it on to you.”

Lance chuckled. “Sounds like Reyna.” Then he blanched and eyed Jack fearfully, as though he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “What did you tell her?”

Jack did his best to look mortified. “What kind of cheap hoe do you think I am?”

At that, Lance actually laughed. Reyna had only been joking. Or had she?

“Don’t answer that!” Jack added quickly, with a slight smile.

And then Lance lost it. He couldn’t help himself. He busted up, and the two of them laughed for several moments, gradually shedding bits and pieces of loss and pain from around their wounded hearts like ice crystals from a windblown tree branch.

When their guilty laughter slowly eased to a stop, they sat a moment in silence. Jack put a strong, comforting arm around Lance’s shoulder, causing him to shiver.

“Come back, Lance. Arthur needs you. We all need you. I need you.” Lance looked down a moment in shame, and then into Jack’s urgent eyes.

“You don’t blame me either?”

Jack’s mouth dropped open. “For what?”

“For not thinking of that phone thing!”

“I didn’t think of it either, man,” Jack reminded him, almost choking on his own culpability. “Don’t you think I feel like crap, too? My God, Lance, a few months ago we were both screwed-up kids who nobody ever expected would do anything good, and now we’re supposed to save the world?”

“Maybe not the world, but what about our friends?”

“If anyone should’ve saved Mark, it was me. He never even would’ve been out here if I’d just––”

“Don’t,” Lance admonished, grabbing Jack’s trembling hand again. “Don’t go there! Please.”

Jack caught his breath, feeling a lump in his throat, and squeezed Lance’s hand desperately. “You know, Lance, what I finally figured out?”

Lance eyed him expectantly.

“It’s the things we don’t say to each other that make the biggest difference.” He lowered his head in shame.

Lance considered Jack’s words, comprehension almost slapping him in the face. That was true! Of course it was. He suddenly recalled all the things he hadn’t said, all the failures eating away at his heart, and nearly gagged with self-hatred.

“Jack, what happened, man?” he asked imploringly, his body feeling cold and numb, his eyes wide with need. “It seemed so good for a while, like we was gonna finally make something good outta ourselves, ya know? How did we screw it all up?”

Jack tugged back the tears. “Because we’re kids, Lance. And kids screw up.”

Lance hesitated, Jack’s words settling heavily around his heart. “Yeah, I guess so.” He paused. “But we lost Mark, man. He was so good, and the first real friend I ever had.”

Jack blinked back his tears. “Aren’t I the second?”

Lance nodded.

“I’m still here, Lance. And I need you, man, more than ever. We’re the only ones who really loved Mark, you know?”

Lance understood. They’d lost Mark, for which he’d never completely forgive himself, but they still had each other. And Jack was right—the things not said were so much more important! He had to face Arthur, had to tell him, had to not let those words go unspoken for another second.

“You’re right, Jacky. I been acting like a stupid-ass little kid. C’mon, let’s go back. I need to tell d—Arthur something real important, somethin’ I can’t not say.”

Jack smiled and stood, dragging Lance to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Lance grabbed his skateboard.

“You should text Arthur that we’re coming home so he can stop worrying about you,” Jack suggested as he dusted some dirt and debris off Lance’s bright green shirt.

“Okay,” Lance agreed and rapidly thumbed in a message as they began walking toward the mouth of the alley. Jack saw him pause, as though considering what to say, and then Lance finished and returned the phone to his pocket. Feeling better than he had in days, he threw his arm around Jack’s neck and futilely tried to choke the bigger boy, maybe even take him down.

They were playfully wrestling, like two regular boys who didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, and were thus distracted when two Asian men abruptly appeared at the entrance to the alley and clamped cloth- filled hands over their mouths. So sudden was the attack, and the chloroform in those cloths so potent, that both Lance and Jack were unconscious before either knew what had hit them.

A Hummer stretch limo rolled to a stop in front of the alley, and both boys, limp and unconscious, were dragged to the backseat and thrown in. One man even grabbed the skateboard. The entire kidnapping lasted mere seconds, and there were no witnesses. The limo drove off into morning traffic.