Page 27 of Constantly Cotton

“Mm. Instant coffee. My dad would give us instant coffee in the morning,” Jason murmured. “I thought that’s what coffeewasuntil I went away to college. To this day I can’t convince my father that Starbucks is a thing for a reason.”

Cotton’s throat was suddenly too swollen to talk.

“What?” Jason asked quietly.

Cotton just shook his head.

“What? I’m sorry, was it something I said?”

“I… I can never go back home,” he mumbled. Most of the people at the flophouse knew. Henry knew the story, and so did Lance. Curtis and Billy had shared their own painful “getting kicked out of the house” stories, and they knew Vinnie had one tucked away somewhere.

Telling Jason seemed so much bigger somehow.

“Oh.” Jason’s arm tightened around his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Cotton.”

Cotton shook his head, not sure he could say anything. From the front of the car, Burton spoke.

“My parents,” he said, “do not know what I do for a living. I may take Ernie home to see them one day soon, but I may not. They think I’m basic Marine, still. They don’t know about covert ops. They think I’m dating a girl. And it’s not that I started out trying to lie to them, but you’re not supposed to tell anybody about covert ops, and I met Ernie through my work there—”

Jason coughed.

“Shut up, Jason.”

Jason coughed again.

“Oh God.”

Cotton realized that they were trying to make it easier on him, so he played along. “What? What is he not saying?”

“Aw, tell him, Lee,” Jason wheedled. “It’s so cute. You’ll die.”

“It’s not cute.”

“Oh, it totally is.”

“It’s so not cute,” Burton insisted.

Cotton was laughing, pulled out of his misery and grateful that the two total badasses who probably could have treated him like luggage were treating him like a friend.

“Please?” he begged, wanting to know now.

“You say it,” Burton muttered. “It’s your fault.”

Jason breathed out. “Fine.” He looked at Cotton, grimacing. “Although it feels wrong. You should see his eyes—he looks like a cartoon character.”

“So does Ernie,” Burton replied irritably.

“Fine.” Jason rolled his eyes. “In a way it’s funny, but maybe it’s a soldier’s sense of humor, so try not to be appalled, okay?”

“Sure.” Cotton looked at him expectantly.

“Ernie was supposed to be a hit.”

Cotton stared at him blankly as the words sank in. “A what?”

“A hit,” Jason repeated. “A job. Burton’s covert ops. We were given a dossier that said Ernie was a threat to national security and we were supposed to take him out.”

“But Jason didn’t like the folder,” Burton said, like that meant something.