Twisted Pretzel Chapter 17: Jonas's Family Secret
Title: Twisted Pretzel
Author: 2he_re (Heather and Reena)
Fandom: Jonas Brothers
Pairing(s): Joe/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and we do not own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. We do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen, or will happen. It is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Summary: Mrs. Johnson dislikes the Jonas Brothers. She hates Joe. Why? Doesn’t really matter does it? What matters is that she was playing a game to get rid of him. Death. Horrible death.
“Tristan Darthe” was her pawn. Arrested a year after the incident and tried. His mental state was proven to be unstable, and instead of a jail sentence he was sentenced to an asylum for the rest of his poor, pathetic, lonesome life, where I'm not even allowed to go suicidal.
Call me unstable, call me insane, but oh deary me, I’d loved that game. I mean, money is good and all, but you know, killing is better.
But damn, I’d lost.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 pt. 1 Chapter 21 pt. 2 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26
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When you lie, you have to make sure you know all your lies. You need to make sure that, when you lie, you can keep that lie working with all those other lies you’ve ever told. When you lie, you need to make sure your words can work all the ways that you want them to work. If they don’t, then you’re going to be screwed when it comes to lying. You have to be quick, but not too quick that someone can tell right away that what you’re saying isn’t the truth. When you have that perfect way of lying down, lies interlocking in that perfect web of deceit, nothing will be able to stop you, except for one day slipping up and telling the truth. And that’s your own fault and now you know you fucking suck as a liar.
I couldn’t believe it. Kevin didn’t find out. He still didn’t know anything. Nick and Joe kept their mouths shut, and Kevin knew nothing that happened between Joe and me. It came as a relief at the same time it came as disappointment. It came to frustration that no one knew the boy that I knew Joe to be.
They didn’t know that Joe had been all dolled up, that he looked nothing like Joe. Did they realize Joe could just slip under all radars with just the right makeup? With the right outfit and hair style?
I laugh whenever I think that the family didn’t see on the camera that the boy I had been kissing, slammed against the siding of the house, was their boy.
I kissed Joe in front of the camera.
I kissed him right there in the damn street lights.
And it hurt like a damn bitch that no one knew.
I don't think anyone ever did learn, unless Joe told the story to someone. Small things like that don't come up in court. I don’t know why it really hurt at all.
I didn’t say anything to Joe, eleven days into the tour, eleven concerts in; four of those concerts my song had been sung at.
“Joe, where’s your ring?” Denise asked, and I froze. Everyone sat around the mini-table on the tour bus staring at Joe. Or everyone except Nick stared at Joe. Nick’s eyes latched onto my face. I would’ve teased my tongue ring, to try and keep from seeming too fidgety, but I’d never put it back in.
“I must’ve lost it,” Joe responded carelessly, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. His eyes didn’t try to find mine; they focused on the food, like they normally did. He acted like this conversation was just normal. Maybe it was in a life I wasn’t part of.
I didn’t dare blink at what could be a double meaning in his words. Did no one else see the double meaning? Or was that just me thinking dirty? Did Joe know what he had just said? He just said he’d lost his virginity, aloud, to the table. Why was no one freaking out? No one but Nick?
Nick’s eyes travelled down to the necklace, and he searched the chain.
“Oh shoot, you sure? We’re going to have to find you another ring. Do you want the exact same one, or do you…?” Denise trailed off, her eyes landed on Nick. His actions seemed peculiar to her. “When do you think,” she started slowly, still looking at her youngest singer. Then she suddenly shook her head and focused all her attention back to Joe. “When do you think you lost it?”
Joe shrugged, cramming another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “Just find a silver ring, anything will work. People don’t stare at them like they used to.”
“Joe!” He shrugged, hurriedly wiping his mouth. His eyes never landed on me.
“What? They don’t.”
Nick’s eyes shot down to my fingers, and I tried to cover them, but I couldn’t in time. In his eyes, I saw the silver band reflect. His eyes flashed to mine, I gave him a one-sided smile, half a grin, with only half the answers in it. He twisted to look at the bunk area where Joe had disappeared into. Nick’s lanky legs got caught on the chair as he pushed himself up. I watched him clamor into the area after Joe.
Kevin glanced down at my fingers, and I wrapped my fingers into a fist. He looked back up, and took a sip of juice as calm and collected as he always acted. Did he know now? I could hear Joe’s and Nick’s voices rising, but couldn’t make out the words. Denise looked flustered, but unsure of what exactly was happening. Mr. Jonas had already fled the bus to the venue, sorting things out. Frankie sat next to the mother, eating his breakfast like a normal starved child. Nick tugged on a jacket and escaped the bus. Everyone else followed shortly afterwards, Denise ushering Frankie out the door. She seemed uneasy. I sighed, retiring to my bunk, because what else could I do?
Joe must’ve told their team of bodyguards to never leave me alone, because someone always followed me now. I tried to go stand in the crowds, but a guard had followed me there. I had headed out to get a drink, wanting to get drunk, but a guard caught me before I could flirt my way in the door.
I hated it, someone watching my every move. You don’t understand how maddening it is. I can't get free for one moment, not then or now. Then, not with anyone, no random druggie on the street or fan in the crowd. Now, I couldn’t even leave the fucking room except for monitored potty-breaks. Then, I never had the same guard follow me twice either, or I would’ve tried to seduce one or another, because I doubted they had worked long enough to know how to deal with someone insane. Now, all the bodyguards in this godforsaken area know how to stay immovable to my charms. Bitches.
So I opted to staying on the bus most of the time. It ended up being a stupid decision, especially once everyone had left to perform for their eleventh concert. I had my sketch pad, TVs hung from the ceiling, Frankie’s video games laid about free to use, but that evil dog yapped. I tried to ignore him at first, I actually tried to reason with him.
“If you shut up, I’ll let you sit on my bed.” The evil dog tilted its blonde head at me. I figured that meant it wanted on my bed, so I bent down to pick him up. It danced away and let on another on slaughter of yapping. “Shut up…” I groaned and the barking stopped for a while. I gave a smile of satisfaction.
Bark.
I growled low in my throat, nails digging into the leather cover of the sketch book. “What the hell is going to make you shut up?!”
Yip-yap.
I slammed my head back into the headboard. I slammed it again as the evil dog went off on a barking spree. Yappity-yappity-yap-yap. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Are you okay in there?” I stopped banging my head long enough to focus on one of the guards who had come through the curtain to check on me and the annoying ass dog.
I narrowed my eyes at the man. He looked about thirty-five, forty. “Did you know Cookie?”
He blinked at me and took a step to steady himself. I don’t know why, the bus hadn’t moved. “Excuse me?”
“Miranda’s brother.”
“I still don’t know…”
“He was the bodyguard that got his heart ripped out.”
The man’s face lost its color, and he looked down at his shoes. “I knew him,” he said gruffly.
“Did you know he smoked?” I asked, flipping open my sketchbook.
“Yeah, I took one or two drags with him.”
I hummed softly to myself, so they had known he’d smoked. Or maybe all but the Jonas Brothers did. Did that mean I had just ousted myself? No, probably not. This guy seemed dumb. I ran my fingers over the cover of the sketchbook Joe had bought me. “Did you know he had a sister named Miranda?”
The man’s face scrunched up, thinking. “Yeah, I think I recall her. Dan carried around a picture of her. Sweet little thing.”
I nodded slowly, picking up charcoal and starting to sketch. “He was telling me something before he died about how he was sorry about something to her.”
I looked up in time to see the guard smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah, right, I remember. Miranda. She loved the Jonas Brothers almost too death, even though she’s what, twenty something now?” I smiled, and then the dog yapped. It jumped up to the bed and I gave it a swift kick. It yelped and flew down the aisle, tail between its legs. The man gave a low chuckle. “You really don’t like that dog do you?”
I rolled to a sitting position. “No, I really don’t.” I think this guy found my hatred amusing, which didn’t really amuse me. Don’t fucking find me funny. I could kill you with a smile.
“Why don’t we go out?” he suggested. “Just for a walk or something, no good for you two to be cooped up together. You’ll end up killing one another the moment my back is turned.” I couldn’t help but grin. I doubt I would’ve ever been able to kill this thing, even though it yapped so fucking annoyingly. Nick liked the pup too much. Nick knew Joe’s and my secret. Joe didn’t want the secret told. “Just grab your shoes, I’ll keep you safe from those fangirls.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid of them.” I gave a toothy grin, dropping my sketch book on the bed and finding a pair of shoes. I couldn’t explain how happy I felt going outside. I had been stuck forever in the bus it seemed, and the stupid dog had driven me almost to the edge of killing it, even though I believed I never would.
I stepped off the bus, breathing deeply for the fresh air. The slight breeze bit at my skin, and the guard’s steps easily fell into place next to mine. I was happy when no one paid either of us too much mind, after they realized the man and I weren’t the Jonas Brothers. The man actually knew the area fairly well and took me around to different pretty areas. Around and around, just walking in the open, I felt so at peace.
It just started to get dark, and around that time we headed back, taking our time. I didn’t try to push the guard for anything, because really, I didn’t feel like I wanted anything. It seems weird thinking about how content I was, not fucking anyone, getting drunk, killing someone… Not that I didn’t want it, I just happened to be content.
At the bus door we paused, and the man took his time opening it for me. The gesture passed as something Joe would do for me. I smiled up at the guard, at the nice man. I leaned a little closer, and he stayed there holding the door. I reached my hand up, and brushed it down his chest. “You know -”
“Daddy! Pick up the phone. Daddy!” a little voice rung out, and immediately the man pulled back, I barely caught the bus door in time. I kept the forced smile on my face. Just kept it there. He pulled up his phone, little girl screaming his name as the ringtone.
“Hello?” he asked lowly into the phone. He stayed quiet for moments, his face paling so much. He turned back to me. “Tristan, I’m sorry, I need to… I need to take this one.”
I waved my hand, the feeling of needing something had disappeared. “Go, you can go home. I excuse you, whatever you need to me to say to get you out of here. Go tend to your problem. I’m not going to go anywhere.” He gave me almost a little half-bow, showing how much he appreciated what I did, before he disappeared off, talking urgently into the phone. I sighed, whatever.
I climbed the bus steps, closed the door, flicked on the front lights, and moved around to the bunk area. I opened the door, and the automatic lights came on. I froze. On my bed was the dog.
Under the dog laid my sketchbook. In pieces.
I could see parts of the leather cover, destroyed, fanning out under the dog. The pages were thrown all over the bus, and I could see the painstaking hours of work all ripped into pieces.
Joe torn apart, Joe’s face, Joe’s eye, Joe’s hand, Joe’s hair, Joe’s fingers, Joe.
Fucking dog. Fucking stupid dog!
“Do you know how long this took me?!” I roared at it, as it sat there like the pathetic lump it was. And its tail wagged. I could hear the light thump, thump the tail made. The shredded paper floated up and down. I saw it scatter more as it waved its tail, like I seemed happy. Did I look happy? Did my screaming and seething seem happy to it?
I growled, all I saw were pieces of my art work, destroyed, ripped to shreds. “Do you know what you just did?” I hissed lowly as I took steps towards my bunk, towards my useless notebook, towards the dog.
It barked at me.
My hand lashed out, and I grabbed the stupid thing by the scruff of its neck. I yanked him off of my bed and hours of, destroyed, work. I kept it from struggling, my arms locked. “Look at what you did! Look at everything you ruined.” I took its head in my two hands, and I forced it to look at what it had done, all the scraps of ruined work on my bed. I could feel it try to get free. It tried to suck in its body, the fur under my hands stood on end.
Its legs pushed in vain to get out from under me, but it couldn’t move. It was trapped. It was trapped like the stupid animal it was. Its tail pressed so far down between its legs. I let go of the head, and it leapt for freedom.
I snatched at its jumping legs, and I pulled down hard. It yelped and something snapped. The sound rang out so clearly. The whimpering of pain came through nice and clearly as I dragged it around by its legs. It tried to run away with its front paws, but I was stronger. I gave a hard yank, and its body fell to the floor. The tail hung loosely.
The skin moved under my fingers as I pulled it towards the shower compartment. I threw it in the shower, and slammed the door closed behind me. From inside came the most beautiful whimpering, the sound of an animal completely helpless. The sound of an animal giving up, of pleading for mercy.
I heard pathetic scrapping on the other side of the synthetic wood. The shower stood in its own little cubby, just barely a four by four space. It was surrounded in synthetic wood, instead of glass. I heard the scrapping of it trying to stand on the bumpy surface, with its destroyed legs, exactly as it had destroyed my artwork.
I turned back around and opened the door. The animal shot at me, whatever was left within it came bursting out. Its short nails clawed at my skin and I punched the head back. It howled, and I gasped as nails found way to dig into my skin. My arms burned, and I screamed. I backed out and slammed the door again on the animal.
I bit my lip, and slowly a plan started to form in my mind. A plan on everything I wanted to do to this animal. Maybe. I only wanted it to be punished. I needed to punish it. How could I do that? I knew. Dad had taught me well. I had received it, but he’d been careful never to leave too deep scars. People could find you easier when you scarred. I looked around for what I wanted, ripping open bags and searching in bunks. Until I found a belt, Kevin’s belt. A pretty belt that’s clasp was black. I looked back on the bunk area, coiling the belt around my wrist. The room looked like the animal had had at it. The evil animal, the stupid animal. I grinned, feeling the pristine leather belt against my skin.
I moved back to the shower. The animal had fallen silent. I don’t know if that made this any more fun or not, knowing the animal knew it would be punished and knew it could do nothing of the fact. Would it have been more fun in the long run to have the animal crying and whimpering at every punishment?
I opened the door, and the animal growled at me, backed into its little corner. I growled back, slowly unwinding the belt. I saw those big brown puppy eyes flicker to the leather, like it knew what I would do. I don’t think it knew.
It cringed down when I came closer. I laughed at it, the poor pathetic thing with its little tail tucked between its legs, its two broken, useless legs. I grabbed it by its neck, and hauled it over to me. It whimpered and tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t let go. I looped the belt around its neck, spotted with the blood from my arm.
I tugged, and the animal whimpered. “You deserve this,” I talked back, my voice so level. “I don’t think anything will ever deserve this as much as you do, right now.” And I hauled up the belt. The animal scampered for purchase with its two broken back legs.
I heard a choking sound, a whining sound, and I loved it, putting the belt around the shower cap and then tugging, before tying off. Three inches off the ground, the animal’s feet hung, useless.
It was useless.
I hated it. I pulled back and slapped it once across the face. It barely moved. “Cry!” I snarled at it. “I want you to cry!” For once the stupid animal stayed quiet. Oh, it was so stupid.
I stormed out of the shower, not bothering to close the door on the hanging animal. It reminded me of a butcher’s house with the dead pigs all lined up to be slaughtered into meat. For a human pleasantry.
I beat the side of the bus, once, twice. I screamed and ripped at the bedding. I tore through to the gallery. I ripped open the drawers and found a knife. My heart sped up at the sight, my thoughts rationalized in the same moment. I could control my body again. I picked up the knife slowly, twisting it over in my fingers. I gently ran it over the cuts the animal had made in my skin, the caked blood barely breaking.
The knife was barely as sharp as a dinner knife. But it would work. I would make it work.
My feet plodded along and everything seemed to slow down, except my heart. My heart sped up with each step, each thought, each action that I carefully planned out with each step. I moved back to the shower, enclosed in its synthetic wood, painted white on the inside, like Kevin’s white leather belt. White showed blood the best of all colors.
I paused before the shower, looking in. I saw the animal hanging there, the hind legs inches from the floor. The leather belt wrapped around its neck, scrunching up the skin and fur. The whole room seemed to glow, except for the yellow animal and the few red splotches.
I walked forward, and slowly stabbed the knife into one of the useless hind legs. Its eye blinked, but otherwise, nothing happened. I moved out of the white room, to observe, to think, to plan. I tugged off my shoes. Wouldn’t want to get blood on those. My socks followed, shirt, pants.
I stood in my boxers, hair knotted in a pony-tail, before stepping into the shower. I tugged the knife out, careful not to slip on the blood that’d already started to fall. I think I heard a whimper. That’s what I liked to hear. I leisurely trailed the knife down an outside strip of the fur. Then I put the knife at the very top, on the top of the head. The animal bucked its head, trying to get the cool knife off of its forehead. I reached up, and firmly pushed the nose down. I looked right at the brown eyes.
“Bad boy,” I told it, before taking my time in carving out a “B”. Blood fell and splatter to the floor, on my feet, between my toes. Blood travelled over my fingers and dribbled down its nose, between its eyes, over its eyes. I heard its begging whimper. I saw the begging eyes.
I realized this would be too messy once I finished the “B”. What was I thinking? I turned around and closed the door tightly before locking it. There. The blood wouldn’t get on the synthetic wood now, just the glowing white, and no one would be able to bother me, interrupt me. I turned back to the yellow dog. It already looked half-red, half-dead. “A,” I muttered to myself, picking up the knife and moving down the back to start the next letter to carve into the flesh of this animal.
This horrible animal.
I didn’t know what to do with the body after I’d finished. I didn’t think it would die, I just thought… I just thought it had to be punished. I don’t think I had ever planned on killing it, how could I kill it? Nick loved the thing, Frankie loved the thing, Joe loved the thing, the whole family loved it. I never meant… Who was I kidding?
The drain was stained in blood and more kept falling.
I couldn’t do this to the family. What would I say? What would they think of me? I couldn’t…
If I didn’t know any better, I would say this thing had never been a dog. Just an animal. It didn’t look like a dog any longer.
The white walls weren’t white anymore. They were covered in blood.
If they found out, would they ever be able to forgive me?
Blood dribbled down my legs. Blood fell from my arms. Blood had dried under my fingertips.
They could never forgive me. They wouldn’t keep me after this.
The scratch marks could still be seen on the floor that had been white, but now looked only red, pink.
They couldn’t know.
My fingers slipped on the blood stained belt. I had to untie - the dog’s body smashed into the ground; it crumpled into the blood. I stumbled away, blood splattering my legs. I crashed into the door. I slammed it open, praying blood wouldn’t follow me out. I reached blindly for any pair of clean clothes.
I struggled, pulling pants over my legs, slick with blood. I covered my feet in one pair of socks. When they soaked through with blood, I layered on a second pair, a third pair. I pulled on one shirt to soak up the blood and another to cover up the blood soaked one. A hoodie, to pull up the hood and smash my hair under, some strands had gotten loose to be dyed red.
I closed the shower door behind me when the bus door opened, and the Jonas came on. Visions of the dog’s dead body, crumpled on the floor, danced in my head.
“He ran away,” I blurted out. “I came back from a walk, and the dog was gone, and everything looked like this.”
They stared.
“I don’t know how. I was just going out to look.” I gestured to my layers, and then quickly slid my hands into the pocket. I didn’t have time to wash them. I could only hope no one had seen.
“Oh gosh…” Denise said breathlessly, immediately eating the story when she surveyed the bus, trashed.
Nick’s whole face had collapsed, paling. “No, no, no Elvis did not run off. He would never run off. I bet he’s just around the corner!” Nick started to freak out. I watched as he tried to plead with Denise and Paul to send people out to look. He would go out to look, they couldn’t leave without Elvis. Joe and Kevin stayed back, looking at the floor. When asked for opinions, neither said anything.
“We can’t postpone the tour,” Paul tried to reason with Nick.
“We can’t just give-up on Elvis!”
“Nick, your fans.”
“My dog!”
“Denise, explain to him --”
“Mom, we can’t leave without -”
“Hush!” The two fell silent to Denise’s command. “We’ll go out and look. Two hours. That’s all I’m giving you.” I looked at Nick as he tried hard to keep away the tears that started to fall. He just came in from a concert. I didn’t think Nick looked in tip-top shape, emotionally or physically. “Hurry up Nick, go, take Rob, we’ll follow.”
“Denise, you can’t possibly -”
“Your son’s animal is out there. We aren’t letting Elvis go without at least looking for him.”
Paul opened his mouth to argue, but Denise again beat him to the punch line, with a sharp look in my direction. She started to shoo everyone off the bus. I didn’t make a move to follow. She gave me a concerned look, then back to Joe who was reaching towards the doors. “Joe, why don’t you stay with -”
“I’m going to look for Elvis.” I felt tears start to prickle at Joe’s straight up rejection. He disappeared out. I couldn’t meet Denise’s eyes. What if she found out, what if-
“I’ll stay with him.” Kevin stepped in. “In case Elvis comes home while you’re searching.” I swallowed. I didn’t look up until I knew everyone had left, until just Kevin and I remained.
“It’s not going to come home,” I whispered.
Kevin gave me a look. “What do you -”
I slowly drew out my hands, shaking. I didn’t have control over my movements. My brain and body weren’t connected anymore.
I extended my hands to Kevin and solidly wrapped them around his hands. I heard a sharp intake of breath, blood cracking off my knuckles and flaking to the floor. I stumbled at Kevin’s strong push. My back slammed into the side of a bunk, and it started to sting.
I laughed, my head snapping back to hit the top bunk’s supports.
“What did you do?”
“I came back,” I whispered, my laughing abating into humorless chuckles, “and that stupid dog had destroyed my notebook. It ripped apart my drawings.” I let my voice soften, the humorless laugh disappear. “But now, I don’t know what to do. I just meant to teach it a lesson. You know how it is, but I got carried away.” I lurched over to the shower. “Open it…” I whispered.
A part inside of me grinned when Kevin slammed me away from the door, my hood falling off. Another part inside of me stung.
He opened the door and froze. I don’t know the first thing he saw, the dead, mutated animal or all the red. Maybe he saw them both at the same time. Gradually he turned around to me, and I extended my hands, palms facing upwards.
“What did you do?” he hissed, eyes flickering to my hands, fingers, before rising to my face.
I could read his expression effortlessly. He hated me in that moment. What I had done, he hated.
“You see.”
“Why?” he snarled.
I saw that he wanted to know the truth, he held open curiosity, but he hated that he wanted to know why. He had wanted to know the truth, but he didn’t kiss me, Yet I had given him the truth freely, I had wanted to teach it a lesson. But he didn’t believe me, he hadn’t understood, people like him never understood, could never. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“Make me.”
I swallowed, in acting, stepping forward to be just inches away. I saw his eyes go to my hair. He saw the blood decorating it. “It’ll get out,” I whispered. “Do you really want people to know that the Jonases are travelling with someone who can’t control their anger?”
“Their sex urges.”
The statement shocked me, and I let it show. I hated that I let it show. Sex urges with the dog? I was twisted, not that messed up.
“I see the ring, Joe’s ring. Caked in blood, around your ring finger.”
“You can’t tell Joe,” I said quickly, not thinking of anything else: not thinking of where the statement could lead me, what it could confirm.
“About what? That his whore,” he snarled the word, “is unstable, dangerous, just killed the family dog?”
“Shut up!” I screamed, stepping forward.
“You think Joe is going to still like you after he learns of this? Has he seen your old notebook? I have it, picked it up off the floor, you left it about so carelessly. Did you think we wouldn’t look? We’re a family that doesn’t have secrets to hide. Let’s look at the images, a body, lying on a table, with the heart gone. The dog sitting in front of the fire, his body burning. A hand, your hand, squeezing a heart to -”
“Shut up!” I roared, I hissed. “Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!” I shoved him hard, with everything I had, and he fell back into the shower. His body fell atop the mangled pile of fur. I flew through the door after him, my hands skimming the blood soaked floor, my knees crashing into it. I found the knife, buried under a puddle of blood, and I wrapped my fingers around it. I pulled it out, blood flying all around, and I plunged towards Kevin’s neck, my legs locking him in place and straddling him, his back pressing down on the dead pet.
I stopped.
Barely, just barely. The knife hovered just inches from Kevin’s throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow. I slowly slid the teeth along his throat. The knife was too dull to cut, but it left a trail of blood, animal blood.
I left the knife, warm from blood, at Kevin’s throat, leaning into his ear, covered in splattered red. My lips just grazed his earlobe. “This is a secret,” I muttered to him. “This is a secret the Jonas family has, and you’re the one keeping it. No one can know.”
His glazed eyes looked at the ceiling. I could feel his body shaking under me. “Repeat it!” I roared in his ear. “Repeat: No one will know. No one will ever find out. This is the Jonas’ family secret.”
“N - no one,” he started, stuttering and flinching at my every breath, every movement, “No one w - will kno - know. N - no one will e - ev - ever find out.”
“Finish it…”
I saw him swallow. “This is the Jo - Jonas’ family se - secret.”
“Joe can’t know, okay? No one can know.”
I rolled off of Kevin, every part of me covered in blood. I could feel it soaking through my clothes. I think he understood what needed to be done. No one could know. No one could know.
I only had to watch as Kevin pulled out a suitcase. He loaded the animal into it. He wrapped a duster around his body, adding a scarf and hat. He carried the suitcase out, and when he got back, he didn’t have the suitcase.
I smiled, walking up to him, a new batch of clothes and hoodie on. I pressed my body to his, and he held his composure, my hand sliding down the side of his face. I curled my fingers in the shirt he wore. He stepped coolly back then. He disappeared into the shower, and stayed there, the water splashing on.
The family came back broken, and I shook my head when they asked me if Elvis had come back, the hood again covered my hair. Denise looked upsettingly at the mess that still littered the bus. “We’ll get someone in here to clean up in the morning…”
Nick came back, tears falling down his face. He climbed into his bunk, and he stayed there.
I didn’t bother taking a shower. The blood wouldn’t start to smell until about seven hours later. The clock had just rung past midnight. Everyone would be off the bus at seven. By the time I started to smell of dead animal, I’d be able to take a shower in peace.
Joe woke me up at night, slipping into bed next to me.
He lowered his face to my neck. I stayed perfectly still. His lips grazed over my skin, softly biting it. I didn’t move, his hand came up to cup my face, and I quickly closed my eyes. He pushed farther into the bunk. I could feel his body pressing onto mine. His mouth closed over mine. I opened my lips, and he took entrance. His tongue flicked into my mouth, before coming out to brush over my lips.
I kind of expected him to do more, but he didn’t. He rolled back over to nuzzle his face into my skin, before his lips came to rest by my ear. “Wish you still had the tongue piercing in,” he whispered. “I wish you didn’t have to see Nick cry. Wish I could take back whatever I said to make you go away. Wish you’d hold me again. Wish I had stayed instead of going off to look for Elvis. I wish Elvis hadn’t ran away. Wish I knew what I did to piss off Kevin. I wish we could be public, like you want. Wish I could give you everything you want. I wish I knew what you wanted from me. I hope we still have something between us. I hope you still feel something.
“You know what? I kind of wish it was just you and me, no one else. Maybe tucked away somewhere in a forest, where I wouldn’t have to get up so no one would catch us together. Somewhere that I didn’t have to worry about the Jonas Brothers, I just had to worry about you. Maybe I’ll get some job where I will never have to leave the house, so I would never have to be without you. Isn’t that silly? That right now, when you’re not talking to me, or touching me, or loving me, that’s the thing I want most?”
“No,” I wanted to tell him, his fingers had become entwined in mine, one caressing the silver ring enclosing my finger, representing part of his trust, love. It wasn’t funny, because it was what I wanted to. It hurt when he drew back, slipping out of my bunk, to his.
I heard the swish of his curtain closing, and I pressed my palms to the bottom wood of his bunk, ignoring how my nails looked dark from the blood still caked underneath.
I closed my eyes, and I imagined my hands on him.
~*~