Page 40 of Caged Hunger

It broke Cameron’s heart to hear his mother speak that way—gushing over the son she had raised, not realizing he was the one holding her hand at that very moment.

When they got to her room, Cameron turned on her television and helped his mother into her nightgown.

When she entered states like these, it was always better to try to distract her, making her as comfortable as possible while ensuring she was in a safe environment.

“How about we watch some TV until your son gets home?” Cameron asked, helping his mother into bed.

“Oh, that sounds lovely. Is Wheel of Fortune on? I always love guessing those puzzles.”

“Me too,” Cameron agreed, snuggling into the bed next to his mother. He gently kissed her head, then began watching TV with her.

An hour later, his mother was fast asleep, and Cameron was slipping out of her room without making a sound.

As he walked toward the bus stop, he couldn’t help the ache in his chest.

His mother was his world. On days when she didn’t recognize him, he felt like he had been erased from existence, as if somehow, he no longer belonged.

Memories were what kept people tethered to those around them. It was those shared experiences and moments that made people friends and family.

But what happens when you are the only one who remembers?

Looking around at the dark, empty street, he suddenly felt all alone. His mother was his last living relative. If she forgot all about him, it would be as though he never existed.

That thought right there was suddenly heartbreaking.

He didn’t want to go home and feel even more alone.

Pulling change from his pocket, he walked to the bus stop, then hopped on the bus when it finally arrived.

15

BASHER

The heat from the flames in the firepit danced across Basher’s face. It was just after ten. The stars were out, and the fire was roaring in his backyard.

Basher poked a log with his “poking stick” and watched as several embers burst in the air, pissed that he had disturbed their quiet slumber.

Dance for me, bitches. Dance, he sang in his mind.

Basher wasn’t a pyro by any means. He just liked watching the flames dance and the wood crackle as it gave way to heavier logs that lay above them.

Reaching for his beer, he took a sip, then set it back down in the arm of his chair.

Now this was the life.

Quiet. Relaxing. Drama-free.

He could get used to this. He liked the peace and quiet much better than the loud chaos of Vegas.

Perhaps he might just transfer here permanently. He hadn’t heard anything recently from his boss regarding the hit Caplan had put out on him. Maybe the wimpy fuck of a kid finally grew a pair and moved on with his life.

The crunch of a twig behind him caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Cameron walking into his yard.

“Hey, what’s up?” Basher asked, turning his body so he could see the handsome bartender as he crossed the yard and took a seat in the empty chair he had beside him.

He wasn’t sure why he had the chair sitting there. It wasn’t like Basher was expecting any company. He didn’t exactly do evening beers with the guys.

“Hope you don’t mind me stopping by like this. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight.”