Page 79 of Antagonist
As soon as we’re inside, Fletcher drags me to his living room and throws me on his couch. He removes his shirt in one swift move and lays his body on top of mine.
“Christ, Fletcher,” I gasp as he latches on to my neck while trying to pull my shirt free from my pants. His desperation is clear in the way he growls when my shirt gets stuck behind my back.
I move my head to give him better access to my neck and find myself staring at a snake.
“Fuck!” I sit up, nearly headbutting Fletcher.
“What’s up?”
“Your snake is staring.”
Fletcher looks down at his crotch. “Huh?”
“Your. Snake.” I point to the glass tank.
“Oh, don’t worry, she won’t tell on us.” He puts his hands on my shoulders to push me back down on the couch, but I know we can’t.
“Wait, Fletcher.”
He sits back, looking frustrated.
“Hey, come here.” I pull him by his hand, and he scoots over, settling between my legs. “As much as I want this to happen, even with the voyeur snake, we need to talk first.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You tell me. You’re not yourself, Fletcher. Melodie noticed, and I’m sure your other friends did too.”
He tries to sit up, but I tighten my hold on him.
“I’m a good listener,” I say.
“Fran wants to take George,” he says, his voice catching.
“What? Can she do that?” My heart breaks for Fletcher while my attorney brain searches for a solution.
“She can,” he says, resigned.
“You’re not going to fight her?”
“I can’t,” he says. “If I do, I could lose George.”
“But, Fletcher—”
He stands all of a sudden, and I’m too stunned to stop him again.
“We had an agreement. She fulfilled her part, and now it’s my turn.”
“Who has custody?”
“No one. We’re both his parents, Harrison.” He stares at me like he doesn’t understand what I’m asking.
“What’s this agreement you have? Do you have any paperwork?”
He turns with a frustrated groan and walks to the kitchen. I follow him.
“There’s no paperwork. Fran and I are friends. We have a good relationship and everything works.”
“Clearly not if she’s taking George away. She can’t do that if he’s at school.” Fletcher flinches. I don’t mean to raise my voice, but I don’t like seeing Fletcher hurting this much when I can help him.
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