Jackson’s smile softens. “No, not always. It was quite a process of figuring it out. There was a lot of self-reflection. But then I realized I had this significant part of myself that had been dormant until I met Mark.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “After that, it sort of just clicked.” His eyes search my face. “But for other people, it can take a bit of time to come to terms with it. It’s not always a switch you can flip on command. Or at least it wasn’t in my experience.”
Maybe that’s what I was waiting for all these years—a moment when everything would suddenly make sense. But it never came. Instead, I spent my entire life compartmentalizing, convincing myself that if I just kept moving, if I kept focusing on my work, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that the things I wanted didn’t fit into the life I’d chosen. That I was only punishing myself by pretending I didn’t feel them at all.
“Right,” I murmur, my eyes drifting to the stained glass for a moment. “Guess some things take their time.”
“Is this because of Orion and Layla?” he asks, rubbing his chin as he refers to my youngest brother, who just started dating Layla, our stepsister, three months ago.
“What? No, I’m just… thinking about things. Life. My job. The future.”
“I only ask because you’re very famously the last single Ravage brother. I’m sure the pressure is on, you know?”
I trace the letters on the bottle, letting his words sink in. “Yeah,” I say finally, a soft smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “I think I’m starting to realize there’s more to life than the job. More than just keeping busy, keeping up appearances… being what everyone expects.”
Jackson raises an eyebrow, his gaze a little sharper, like he’s seeing right through the act I’ve held up for so long.
“For so many years, I thought my work here was all I needed,” I continue, “that as long as I was helping others, I’d be fulfilled.” I shake my head, almost surprised to hear the words coming out. “But maybe I’ve been selfish in my own way. Ignoring the things I want. Trying to be everything for everyone else.”
“Selfish?” Jackson laughs. “Pretty sure that’s not what anyone would call you.”
I meet his gaze. “Well, it’s what it feels like. Like maybe, for once, I should stop pretending I have it all figured out and actually… want something for myself.”
Jackson levels me with an eagle eye. “It’s okay to want something. I know your job carries a lot of guilt and heavy shame regarding certain things, but trust me when I say, as long as you’re not hurting anyone, who cares?”
The problem is… how do I explain that to myself?
I’ve spent so many years thinking I was protecting myself—protecting others—by pushing this part of me away. What happens when I stop hiding from it? I’ve always told myself it’s asin, something unnatural. But is it really? Or is it the shame I’ve been taught to feel?
I nod. “Yeah. I wish I saw it that way.”
“Life’s too short. I’m not saying you should quit your job and join a pop band, but… people change. I’ve changed. And maybe you have, too.” He stands. “I should go. I’ll keep you updated about everything, okay? And I’ll bring a copy of the family leave paperwork tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” I stand and hold my hand out. “Thanks for this. I feel like I’m the one who’s supposed to be giving you advice.”
Jackson laughs, clasping my hand warmly. “Sometimes we need a little advice ourselves, especially the ones who are used to dishing it out. You’re only human. Don’t forget that.”
“Yeah.”
He pats my shoulder. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, but don’t let it stop you from living, all right? You’re allowed to have a life beyond these walls.” He gives me one last encouraging smile, nodding once before he heads toward the door. “And hey, if you ever need another drink—or a pep talk—you know where to find me.”
As the door clicks shut, the silence settles back around me, though it doesn’t feel quite as heavy as before. Jackson’s words linger in the air.Life’s too short.I glance around the dim office, at the crosses and stained glass, and for once, the thought of wanting something just for me feels… almost possible.
I take another couple of swigs of whiskey before I stand and put it away. I think about how far I’ve come from the guy who used to pray away his thoughts—the guy who couldn’t look at another man without feeling disgusted with himself. Why was I scared of this? Scared of wanting someone who isn’t exactly what I’ve been told to want?
Locking up, I walk the halls of the mostly empty academy. Walking past my car, I continue down the main road in Crestwood, needing the fresh air and not wanting to drink and drive. I already know where I’m going when I enter Infernotwenty minutes later,and I’m waved inside as one of the regulars.
My youngest brother, Orion, started the kink club a few months ago, and unbeknownst to him and my other three brothers, I’ve been a more frequent client as of late. There’s an entire religious taboo section on both thePurgatoryandParadisefloors, and I’ve dabbled with scenes when it was easy for me to take part in them anonymously.
And while the club rightfully doesn’t allow any edge play on the premises for safety and liability reasons, I’ve been able to make contacts here who enjoy those things in their own spaces, like me.
I came here to escape what I was feeling, but suddenly, the pounding music from Purgatory below is too loud. The flickering lights are too much. The air feels thick, weighted with things I’ve spent years trying to bury. The sound of leather slapping against skin echoes from down below.
Why am I here?
And why is it that I don’t want to leave?
At least when I’m here, I know I won’t be judged, and maybe that’s why I enter the bar area and sit down. I put my one and only drink order in—seeing as Inferno has a one-drink rule. The whiskey burns as it goes down my throat, and just as I swallow, I hear a familiar laugh. My whole body goes still as a dark gray suit comes into my peripheral vision, and I shoot the rest of the whiskey quickly, wincing as I set the glass down.
“There’s a joke here somewhere,” Julian says, coming to sit down next to me.
