Chapter 20
August
Niko: No one is going to freak out, and we are all going to be supportive.
Niko: August is bi.
Arlo: What?!
Jin: I fucking knew it!
Bash: You must mean bilingual because there’s no way.
Niko: I mean bisexual.
Bash: Tabarnak. You’re for real.
Niko: So real.
Arlo: How did you find this out? Did you fuck him? Really? I figured he would be a top, but nothing will shock me at this point.
Niko: I didn’t fuck him! That would be like fucking my brother.
Arlo: You’re not blood related, so it’s not that deep, Neeks.
Niko: It wasn’t me. It was a friend. Shut up.
Ryan: This chat group isn’t enchanted, is it? Like, anyone who’s straight gets added and they end up finding boys cute?
Jin: I’m not touching that one.
étienne: August was the only person who only liked girls who was added to this group.
Ryan: What about me? And Jace?
étienne: No.
Ryan: Haha. Very funny.
Jett: Can we focus, guys? Gusty, we love and support you. Talk to you soon.
Jin: Are you looking for a hookup?
Harrison: Park. Enough.
Bash: Yeah, Jin. Listen to Daddy.
Arlo: And I’m fucking out. Peace.
Jason: Can someone order me food? I’m too tired to pick up my phone.
Jett: Dude, you are literally holding your phone to text.
Jason: Right. I forgot.
August: Thanks, guys.
August crushed his pillow to his chest, feeling strangely happy and…
light. The group chat wasn’t half as bad as he’d pictured ever since Niko started snickering about it on the bus.
He found it tame compared to a few of the conversations he’d read, including one with a poll attached so they could vote for what Christmas ornaments would make decent dildos.
August would never look at ornaments the same way again—not without thinking, if it doesn’t have a flared base, then it can’t go up your ass.
His head was throbbing, but only a tiny bit. The high he had felt after fucking Quinn was slowly ebbing away, leaving him feeling mentally drained in ways he thought only hockey drills could achieve.
The bath had helped. And Niko’s cooking, delivered during his hour-long soak, had also helped. August felt better, but he knew he still had a while to go before he could heal from this—from the damage his parents had inflicted on him.
Sex with Quinn brought more memories back, mostly the ones of the first and last time they’d fucked, but it wasn’t enough. Something waited in the shadows of his mind, restless and hungry, ready to rip him apart the moment he let his guard down.
The unknown terrified August because he was scared of what it meant. Had there been more? What if something happened to him that was worse than his father’s beatings and religious hate?
His phone buzzed, making August jump so hard he nearly flung it out of his hand. He didn’t bother checking the name on the screen before he answered it.
“H-Hello?”
Fuck, his heart was pounding. To say his nerves were shot was an understatement.
“Heya,” said Jett’s teasing voice. “Neeks told me you were home, so I wanted to call you now while we both have a minute.”
August groaned and flipped around, yawning loudly. “We really don’t have to—”
“Don’t,” Jett interrupted, his tone so firm that August’s mouth snapped shut. “Harrison is here, and we want to help you. I know you’re grumpy about me sending Sandford after you to ask for a friendship bracelet, but Niko says you won’t talk to anyone, and Harrison and I have…experience in this.”
Trauma. They were talking about trauma.
August didn’t mind taking their help, but he also didn’t want to dredge up things that Harrison and Jett were healing from. That wouldn’t be fair to any of them.
“I can hear the hamster running in overdrive,” said Jett. “Grumbles and I are fine. Please, just talk to us. We all know what pressure can do to guys in our profession, and more than anything, we don’t want things to take a bad turn when we could have prevented it.”
“Let’s talk about us first,” said Harrison’s deep voice, and August imagined they were curled up on their couch together, being stupidly cute. “Niko gave us the rundown, so we can take as much time as you need to get personal.”
August swallowed, his mouth suddenly tacky now that they were getting intense. “As long as it won’t fuck you up…go for it.”
There was a pause and muffled fidgeting before Jett spoke.
“Did it surprise you when I came back so soon after the attack?”
August had to stop and think because, at the time, he was so focused on winning the cup that it hadn’t truly registered until the moment he went up to Jett during their last game.
“Past me thought you were a badass,” August confirmed, awkwardly tugging his hair because fuck, this was weird.
“I couldn’t remember most of the attack,” said Jett.
“Even now, there are parts that are…fuzzy. But during the playoffs, I was in fight-or-flight mode because I kept feeling like something was chasing me, but I didn’t know what it was.
I knew I had been attacked, and I understood the basics of what happened, but it felt like it wasn’t me that it had happened to.
It was like the Jett that had been through that awful event was a separate version of myself that I didn’t recognize. ”
Memories of a blinking red light made August go rigid, breath catching in his throat—but when nothing else happened, he brushed it off.
“So you were walking around with those scars, and you couldn’t remember how you got them?” August asked.
Jett’s chuckle made everything feel less tight.
“Yeah, no. I had no fucking idea how I’d hurt them.
They found my blood around the hole in the ice where Harrison fell through and told me that I must have cut myself while I dragged him up.
That’s the one thing I still can’t remember, but the doctors are probably right. ”
Harrison grunted. “I couldn’t remember dick-all because I got clubbed on the back of the head. I’m still suffering from migraines—and the nightmares.”
Nightmares?
August hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but he must have, because Harrison was answering him.
“Nightmares of drowning—and of hands trying to drag me under the water. Nightmares of Luca and Taylor telling me that it wasn’t my time to die, and no matter how much I try to bring them back with me, they refuse to follow.”
Luca and Taylor were names August didn’t recognize, but knowing Killinger’s past, he guessed that they were the two people who died in the same car accident that ruined his leg.
“And obviously, we’re still working on shit,” Jett added. “A year of therapy don’t mean much after almost being murdered, but it’s a good outlet, and it can help you organize your thoughts.”
August’s head gave another deep throb, and he winced. “I keep hearing that, but so far, the only thing that’s helped is Niko and…Quinn. My head hurts less around Niko because he keeps me distracted, and the same goes for Quinn, but I find things are clearer when we’re together.”
The phone was silent, so August braced himself and continued.
“I’ve been having trouble with the separation thing, too. It’s like my brain gets confused between the current August and the August from the past, and it’s driving me crazy. The only time I’ve felt like myself is when I’m with Quinn, which sounds so fucking stupid, but it’s the truth.”
“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” said Jett.
“Niko couldn’t say how close you two were in high school, but even with the basic information we were given about your parents, I’m going to go on a limb and say your childhood was shit.
Quinn might be the only thing that made you happy back then, and it sounds like you’re reconnecting now. ”
Reconnecting was a word for it, but August didn’t think Quinn was interested in having a deep friendship with him. He wanted to keep things simple, which meant no relationship, only sex.
“Have you thought about getting back together with him?” Harrison asked.
Oh, if only.
“I can’t,” said August. “His one rule is that I can’t fall in love with him.”
He expected a sympathetic response, but Jett scoffed.
“People only say that shit when they don’t trust themselves. He’s probably teetering on the edge of falling for you again, and is trying everything he can to secure himself to the ledge.”
Not Quinn.
Quinn was too smart—too sure of himself. He wasn’t an angry teen desperate for attention anymore.
“And judging from the silence,” said Harrison. “August is already having the feels.”
Harrison was such a scary motherfucker sometimes, but then he started talking like Jett, and August lost all respect for him.
“He so is,” said Jett. “But, Gusty—don’t tell him yet. You have to wait for the right moment, because he’s been burned by you once, so it’s going to take him time.”
“No—” August sighed, no longer sure what the fuck he was doing. “I’m not doing that to him. I’m going to respect what Quinn wants and enjoy what we have now until it’s time to move on.”
A pause.
“Do you think you can?” Jett asked.
Scowling, August sat up so he could breathe better. “Do I think I can what, Fraser?”
No clap-back. No chirp.
“Do you think you can move on from him?” Jett asked, and then added. “If Quinn walked out of your life tomorrow, would you let him?”
There was something these people weren’t understanding, and that was that Quinn was his own fucking person, and he had every right to do whatever he wanted.
“I’ll do what Quinn tells me—”
“That’s not what I asked, man.” Jett sighed, sounding just as exhausted as August felt.
“I’m trying to gauge how you feel about him, because Quinn can tell you what to do all he wants, but he can’t change how you feel.
And I know you don’t think you stand a chance with him again, but trust me when I say that if someone hurts you, no matter how many years pass, you wouldn’t offer to have sex with them. ”