Isolated

Chapter 63

Chapter 63

From where we were sitting on the porch swing, Francis passed me the joint. And before you guys even start, Francis forced it on me. I was smoking it against my will. He didn't do anything other than offer it, but I read his mind... and he telepathically said smoke it or else. Did you guys buy that? Because that was probably what I would spring on Luke when he gets home. It was apparently legal in Washington anyway.

He came over earlier, after Luke and Jackson drove up north – and east concerning the land. It would be interesting to hear how awkward that goes; maybe Luke will shoot him if we're all lucky. Francis probably was in favor of it now that I told him Jackson was my father. It felt weird, explaining everything I learned about the man who was my dad. It stirred my mind. Which gave me even more of a reason to take advantage of the weed.

Taking in all of what I said, he was currently wondering why Jackson left to begin with. He had a good theory. "He's a guy with a lot of pent up tension, isn't he? Easily annoyed or frustrated?" he asked over the shattering rain around us. The overhang blocked the porch from the shower, allowing us to scan the drizzly front yard.

"He's a literal asshole, a stubborn one," I mumbled through my mouth full of chips. I had one hand occupying the chip bag between us, the other holding the joint he passed me.

After I finished chewing and swallowing, I took a hit. "Like when you have to take a shit and it's hard to push out? And your asshole is just fighting it? That's Asshole Jackson at work."

Francis snickered, resting back against of the swing. His feet on the ground moved us forward and back in a slow rhythm. "Anyway, I think I have the answer." Eyes through his thick frames full of light, he smugly spoke. "He is gay."

I pushed his shoulder. "Trust me, I would love to agree, but he didn't become my dad through magic." He knocked up the devil's mistress. Then again, maybe he was testing the waters to see if he liked girls...? If he was gay, that would make sense. Clare wasn't exactly my definition of a proper woman.

"Come on," Francis exclaimed, pulling his lips tighter together before pressing the rolled paper to his lips. He released the smoke with his words. "He's pent because he's hiding the fact that he's into dong. But it also answers why he would leave your family. He didn't like being married to a woman."

"Then why marry her in the first place?"

Head tilting towards me, cheek against the back cushion, his expression called me dumb. "Because he was ashamed," he said as if it was obvious. "He left you guys... when a bunch of men showed up in a cult. That's a lot of dick. Coincidence? I think not."

"So he's gay and joined this organization to fuck all the dudes?"

Taking a drag of the joint, he rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

Laughing, I grabbed more chips and started munching on them. I loved his theory. Doubted it, but possible. As I was about to tell Francis, finding out wasn't worth it to me.

"Have you ever thought about asking? There's a ton of stuff you don't know."

After swallowing the chips, I sighed. "I don't care enough to ask him anything. It doesn't change what he did." Laughing, I added. "I would like some answers of where I'm going when I die. Is it worth throwing myself off a building? Nope."

Francis nodded, eyes flicking over my face in thought. After passing me the joint, he turned his gaze out to the curtain of rain. "Talking isn't throwing yourself off a building."

"You're right, it would be me throwing myself off a building and not fucking dying when I hit the concrete." Handing it back to my left, I lifted my legs since it was getting chilly and folded them under me.