Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
We bowl for over an hour, and I beat him each time, earning an ass-eating, a blow job, and a nice, slow fuck. For the future. A rain check.
By the time we’re seated to watch a movie, I’m hot and bothered.
But that’s cooled down entirely when we’re called up for dinner. Everything heated inside me dissipates, and I’m almost shivering as we make our way into a formal dining room.
Both sets of eyes swivel toward us, taking us in. Neither of us is dressed for this—Colton most likely on purpose, me just not knowing I was supposed to.
“You’re late,” Erick says.
“We came as soon as we were called,” Colton murmurs.
It’s silent as we pull the chairs out and take a seat next to each other. I grab the napkin and set it on my lap, eyeing the water and then meeting his mother’s gaze. She’s wearing a low-cut dress, her hair pulled back in a French braid. She looks expensive and cold. Nothing like my own mom.
“I invited Kiera, but she wasn’t able to attend tonight. Shame, since I was looking forward to hearing about her trip to Paris.”
“Yeah, she’s busy. Doesn’t much like coming here anyway,” Colton murmurs, his words meant only for me.
But they hear him. His mother frowns at the tone, and his stepfather takes a sip of his drink.
“You’re making a mistake—” Erick says above the rim of his glass. It’s a threat, but one his mother ignores as she interrupts.
“So, tell us about yourself, Myles,” she drawls as she takes a sip of her martini.
I reach out and touch my glass of cold water, feeling the condensation on my fingers.
“Nothing much to say,” I reply and then shrug. “Just a boring guy with a boring future.”
That makes her titter, and Colton reaches down and squeezes my thigh, but I’m not giving them anything more.
“I highly doubt that,” she replies as Colton’s stepfather watches me.
“Oh, he’s telling the truth,” his stepfather replies. “I did a little digging.”
That makes Colton’s mom sigh in exasperation, but she goes ignored.
“I apologize for overstepping, but a family like ours needs to play it safe. I hope you understand.”
I don’t, but I say nothing. Colton is nearly vibrating with anger next to me, but he doesn’t move or say anything either.
“I know you’re the only son of a widowed mother. She works as a caterer. Owns her own company, in fact.” My stomach churns. “Seems she’s done well for herself. It’s never easy to start over. She must have been a great role model growing up.”
“She was,” I croak.
“And you’re going to graduate soon. A marketing major. Seems that rugby isn’t in your future.”
“Didn’t plan on it.”
He smirks slightly, and the feeling in my stomach worsens.
“Colton has soccer in his future, though. Don’t you, son?”
Colton’s teeth grind. “Not your son.”
That goes ignored as dinner is served by two women wearing uniforms. I didn’t see them when I was wandering around, so it makes me think that the help is hidden away until they’re needed.
A plate is set before me, and I glance down at a salad. It looks really good, expensive, with candied nuts and blue cheese. But then again, my mom could make this, and it would taste even better.
Half the price, too, I bet.
I hear the sound of silverware being lifted, and I peek over at Colton, who is sitting still, not moving.
“Eat your food,” his stepfather bites out.
“Not hungry.”
He huffs in annoyance. “I know you are. David and Alba worked hard to make this. You will show respect for their hard work.”
That makes him flinch, and a moment later, his fork is in his hand. He eyes the food and warily takes a bite, swallowing it quickly, and then sits back. Almost as if he’s glad that the task is over.
I, however, take my time, trying to stomach the food without gagging. It tastes good, but the sour roil of my stomach hasn’t gone away.
It doesn’t abate throughout dinner. Through each plate set before me, through the forced benign chatter of his stepfather, and the subtle flirtation of his mother. By the time dessert is done, I feel nauseous.
“Are we done pretending now?” Colton finally asks, setting his spoon down and touching his stomach.
“So dramatic,” his mother sighs, finishing off her second drink.
Erick is watching the two of us intently. “Of course, you can be excused. But remember, tomorrow, we have the board meeting. And I expect you to be there.”
Colton says nothing as he pushes his chair back and makes his way out of the room. I follow him, nearly nipping at his heels. I want to reach out and touch him, but I don’t dare as we make our way upstairs. He says nothing as we stop in front of our rooms.
“I don’t feel well,” he finally murmurs.
“Me neither.”
He meets my gaze, and his shoulders slump. “See you tomorrow?”
I nod and watch as he walks into his room, the door shutting silently behind him. I’m left to do the same, walking into the bathroom and letting the food that I put down come up. I heave and gag into the toilet until I finally sag against the wall.
This is what he’s lived with for so long. The cold hate, the cutting words. Everything about today has been taxing. I can’t imagine having to live with this. Day in and day out.
I pull my toiletries out of my bag and scrub my teeth.
The words from the evening play over and over.
Colton has soccer in his future.
There are some things a team won’t accept.
Perhaps you should reconsider your future.
It makes me ill all over again, but my mind is reeling. Colton said his stepfather knew about us, and it seems he was hinting at it. Not that his mother seemed to notice. She was too busy eyeing me and drinking. It was uncomfortable and, frankly, disgusting.
I can’t wait to leave this place.
I strip down and step into the shower. It’s only when I’m halfway through that I wonder if there are cameras in here, watching me. I can’t think about that too hard. If they are watching, then let them look.
I rinse off and head to my bed, tucking myself underneath the covers, my eyes unable to close, my ears listening for anything I can hear.
But it’s silent. Not even the sound of the wind outside permeates this cold house.
A graveyard of hidden secrets and broken lives.
I turn onto my side and fall into a fitful sleep.
A beep from my phone wakes me, and I sit upright in my bed, my skin sweaty, my breath coming out in frantic puffs. I throw the sheets off me, and my bare feet hit the floor.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and see a text from Maya.
Maya:
Colton’s in trouble. Get him out of there!
I dash to the door, throw it open, and skid across the hallway to Colton’s room. When I push his door open, I hear the shuffling of footsteps and freeze when I see his stepfather standing in the shadows, still wearing his clothes from earlier, his hair slightly awry, his shoes off.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, my voice low and angry.
He hesitates a moment, looking almost frantic, but in the blink of an eye, he composes himself.
His shoulders straighten, and he reaches up to adjust a tie that isn’t there. “His mother and I worry about him when he comes home. A lot of memories, you see. Wanted to check on him. That’s all this is.”
“I’m here. You don’t need to check on him.”
I turn to look at Colton, expecting him to sit up, to make his way to me, but he’s silent, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his head sitting at an awkward angle, almost as if he were tossed there.
“What did you do?” I hiss, moving toward him, righting his neck and letting my fingers press against his pulse point. It’s thrumming quickly, almost erratically.
“Nothing. But I assume he did. He has a stash of drugs he takes when he comes home. To cope, you see. He’s never gotten over the death of his father.”
“I don’t believe that. We get drug tested at college. He wouldn’t risk it.”
As I say this, I touch Colton’s face so affectionately that I know it gives us away, but I don’t care. His family can think what they like. I don’t want to hide anymore. It’s too painful, too awful. I want them to know he has someone on his side.
“I knew it,” Erick murmurs, sounding pleased with this development.
But I don’t care what he says, anger pulsing through me at how Colton has been treated. How it’s so evident, and yet no one believes him.
How I may be the only one.
“Fuck off,” I murmur. “Leave us alone.”
He doesn’t do as I ask. “So, he got to you, hm? Gaslit you into believing his lies. Is that why you’re here?”
I meet his stare, my eyes narrowing. “I believe him.”
“You shouldn’t. He’s a liar, through and through.”
“He’s not. He’s not lying. You are. What did you give him?”
“I told you. I didn’t touch him, just came up here to check on him and found him like this.”
I move from the bed, feeling my hands clench by my sides. I’m bigger than him, but inexperienced in fist fighting. I’ll give it a go, though. I move into his space, making him take a few steps back.
“You don’t have it in you,” Erick taunts. “You have too much on the line. You have a family you love.”
That makes me hesitate, but my mom would be pissed if she knew I didn’t stand up for Colton, for a victim, someone who needed me.
I shove his chest, making him stumble back. “I do. So what?”
My response surprises him, and he hesitates a moment before adding, “I think they may not like seeing the pictures I have. The ones Colton took of you.”
That makes my fingers flex, and I reach up to grab him, to lift him off the ground, but he moves too quickly. Before I know it, he’s on me, his hand on my neck, his fingers digging into my flesh. I could push him off, but I want this on tape. I want them to see it.
“I have them. I know everything he does. Including you.”
“I don’t fucking care. Show the fucking world. I. Don’t. Care!”
And I realize in this moment that I don’t care. That if everyone knew, it wouldn’t make a difference.
That the most important person right now is Colton.
“You should. What will your family think? What will his future teammates think?”