Chapter 32 Jack
Dipshit
Can you come now?
I’d been waiting at the door, shoes and coat on, just needed the words. As I typed that I was on my way, I grabbed my keys, then headed to Cal’s.
His truck sat in the driveway, and I parked behind it.
This stupid town. Cal in trouble again. Even if it was only one day of detention, it should’ve been nothing.
Cal had defended me, took Sasha’s attack for me.
My mood darkened with every step. Cal was upset.
Text had no tone, but I could feel it all the same, as if he’d begged me to come over, crying the words into my ear.
His solid form loomed in his back doorway ahead of me, and I stumbled.
“Cal,” I whispered as I slowly closed the last of the distance between us. His red cheeks made his glassy eyes glitter brightly. He didn’t respond with words, just buried his face in my neck when I wound my arms around him.
I pressed forward enough so I could close the door. The evenings grew cold quickly once the sun was down, and he was already shivering.
Cal let me maneuver him farther inside. I didn’t stop until we were in his living room.
I wanted to sit with him, but he clung to my body.
So we stood. We stood, and I rocked him gently.
He didn’t cry, though it seemed as if he’d done plenty of that before I got here, and he didn’t give any explanation.
But I could guess the reasons.
“I missed you,” he finally mumbled into my shoulder.
I clung tighter, needing him to need me. “I’m here for you. Always.”
“You’re the only one.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Want to fuck?”
He snorted a laugh, and I grinned against his ear. Cal didn’t answer but twisted his hands in my sweater. I wiggled out of my coat, then wrapped myself back around him. He snuggled closer.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“No. I just don’t want to talk.”
“I’m good with that.”
No talking. No fucking. I turned us and untangled his arms so I could sit on the sofa, then patted my thigh. Cal slumped heavily forward, collapsing along the length of the cushions. As I’d instructed, he laid his head on my lap and curled an arm around my leg.
Without asking, I reached for the hem of his shirt. He didn’t protest as I lifted it to inspect the damage Sasha had done, but he did hold his breath.
She’d aimed for the same spot each time, and thank fuck she hadn’t actually had a knife.
A good-sized bruise had formed on Cal’s left pec. I traced the outer edges of purple tint, staying away from the darker red splotches at the center.
“Does it hurt?”
Cal exhaled and nodded as I lowered the material into place with shaking hands.
This had to end. If he wouldn’t speak up, then I fucking would. Maybe it’d hurt what we had, but I’d rather put a strain on us, what we had together, than see him suffer any more. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.
I blinked back angry, frustrated tears as I sniffled and scratched my blunt nails through his thick hair, using the repetition to help calm my breathing.
Cal hummed and closed his eyes. God, he was beautiful.
All big and muscular with striking features and colors making him so unique.
His wavy locks were so bright against his caramel-honey skin.
His tan lips were full and soft. His regal nose had a natural flare that almost made him seem pissed at any given second, but then his eyes told the truth.
So light blue, like a summer sky, like a dream, they seemed unnatural but weren’t.
When taking his features individually, Cal could almost be pretty, my pretty princess.
But put together, he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
And this beyond-gorgeous man lay broken in my lap. In this moment, I hated the world on his behalf. He cared too much, carried too much. The world needed Cal’s smiles but seemed to despise them.
I laid my head on the cushion and closed my eyes, content to let him rest on me as I played with his hair. We sat like that, unmoving, existing, until we both fell asleep.
Cal jerked upright when the garage door slammed.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he scrambled off me to stand.
I wasn’t quite to my feet yet when his dad marched into the room. I’d never met Martin Winters formally, and for a second or two, we sort of stared at each other. Cal and I weren’t caught doing anything, just here together—in the dark living room—but his glare was full of accusation.
Mr. Winters clamped down on whatever he’d been thinking and turned to face Cal. “Tell your friend to go home,” he said, then flipped a switch on the wall, flooding the room with light.
Cal winced with the bright intrusion. “Daddy, this is—”
“I didn’t ask, and I don’t care,” Mr. Winters barked. He scrubbed a hand through his dark hair, so unlike Cal’s. “You’re in a heap of trouble this time, Calvin. Do you really want your friend to witness this?”
My mind spun a few rounds. What did he mean?
It was only detention, not suspension. I stood frozen, waiting for Cal to tell me to leave or stay.
I wanted to reach for him, to hold his hand, to press against his back, anything to show him I was here, that I’d be in his corner no matter what he needed.
The pause must’ve been too long, too something. Mr. Winters wrestled his coat free as if it offended him and slung it over a chair. He pivoted back to us with his hands on his hips, then paced left and right.
“What in the hell has gotten into you this year?” He didn’t seem to want answers since he never allowed one. “Pranks, fighting, detentions, and not just fighting with athletes but your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my—”
“I didn’t raise you to act like this.”
“I wasn’t fighting,” Cal rushed to say, and I was surprised his dad hadn’t interrupted him even then.
“Don’t get an attitude with me. You’re grounded at best. Do you really want to make this worse?”
I kept my mouth shut when everything inside me wanted to scream for Cal’s defense. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
“This is unacceptable, Calvin. This is not the way you get into a good college. You think this doesn’t go on record? You think the things you do in high school don’t have consequences years from now?”
Seeing Cal’s dad in action for the first time, I understood how helpless he’d been. Even if he could get a word in, I doubted the man would listen.
“No son of mine is going to get the rep of a troublemaker, and you’re well on your way to it.
” He finally stopped his pacing and pointed a shaking finger at Cal.
“You go to school, and that’s it. I want your gaming consoles and your phone in my office tonight, and when winter break starts, I want your laptop too.
You can get it back next semester, if you’re still there.
If I haven’t pulled you out in favor of an all-boys school for troubled youths.
” Mr. Winters waved in my direction. “No friends over, and your ass does not leave this house without permission. Am I understood?”
“Daddy, please, just—”
“Am I understood?” Mr. Winters shouted. “You’ve been stepping in shit since summer, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let it get any worse.”
“Daddy, I—”
“What were you thinking?” Mr. Winters asked Cal, then glared at me. “I told you to leave.”
Cal stepped in front of me. “Daddy, would you listen—”
“Not another word, Cal. You’ve done enough. I’m neck-deep in shit from your momma, and now you’ve heaped even more on top.”
“What’re you talkin’ about? I shoved a guy at school. It’s not the end of the world,” Cal yelled quickly, and I didn’t blame him. His dad was every bit impatient and self-absorbed as Cal had said.
Mr. Winters charged in close and snatched Cal to him with his fists in Cal’s shirt. “You started a fight with a girl, Calvin, in the middle of school, with witnesses. I’m shocked the police aren’t here right now.”
My heart tripped over a beat with his elevated tone, then pounded double time.
He let go of him with a shove, and Cal slammed into me. If it hadn’t been for me steadying him around his waist, he would’ve fallen to his knees.
“What?” he gasped, asking the same thing in my head. That wasn’t what happened at all.
“Sasha, Calvin. Don’t play games. This isn’t the time.”
Fuck that crazy bitch. Cal was afraid of her but had always maintained a brave front.
No one would ever see, but he’d whispered her crimes to me in the dark.
This man, God, I loved him. His inner strength, his stubbornness to hold on to that tough exterior so no one would ever be uncomfortable facing what he’d been through: a guy like him being the victim.
“Wh-what?” he stammered. “No, I, I might have grabbed her arm harder than I thought.”
“Calvin—”
“Mr. Winters, just listen to him!”
If ever there was a time I could reel my words back in, hit delete, it would’ve been now. Both of them spun to face me as if they’d forgotten I was here. I clenched my fists, hating how they shook, but ready to defend Cal with everything I had.
“Go the fuck home!” Mr. Winters shouted at me.
I ignored him and stared at Cal. His eyes were red, moisture gathering on his lashes. God, how I wanted to reach for him, or him to reach for me, but he didn’t. He dropped his chin, and with it, the first tear fell.
“Please, go home,” Cal whispered.
“No, I—” I cut myself off when he shook his head.
“Please.” The word shuddered out of him on an unsteady breath.
Pain bloomed in my throat so quickly I choked. “Cal.” I meant to say out loud, to beg once more to stay, to be here for him as he figured this out, but no sound came.
Cal turned his back on me.
“For the last time, get out of my house,” Mr. Winters said, this time with a deadly calm that shook me more than his shouts had rang in my ears.
I didn’t remember leaving. Cal’s dejected form, bent with defeat, was the only thing I saw until I was parked in my own driveway. Spots swam in my vision, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop shaking or gasping for air. Breathe, don’t freak out. Breathe.