Chapter Ten #2
I stumble over my feet until I’m practically picked up and carried out to the gravel parking lot. The rush of cold night air slaps a little sense into me, and the world around me comes more into focus.
Kyle has blood running from his nose and mouth, and he’s making unintelligible growled threats to everyone around him, all while still looking me in the eye.
Ford is pinning him to the ground with his arms behind him now, but it looks like more effort than you would expect. Kyle must really be putting up a fight.
Something in me withers and dies, right in that moment. All of this over what—a blowjob? Because he hated me so much even before he knew I was queer, and this is what pushed him over the edge into true, boundless violence?
If they let him go, would he try to kill me? Maybe that’s what he’s always secretly wanted. Freeing himself from the burden of my existence.
“Christ, Cade, will you give it a rest?” Tristan’s strained voice is right in my ear, and he has both of my arms pinned behind my back pretty successfully now, holding me in place. At least I’m not getting shoved to the ground.
Well, fuck him. And fuck Kyle. I need to… I need to fight for Silas. Show him I’m not ashamed.
“Fuck you, bitch!” I yell at my dad, summoning some kind of bravado while I feel blood pooling in my own mouth as well.
“You wanna interrupt us again? Maybe you’ll see me taking it up the ass.
I’ll bend over for him every day and still beat you to the fucking ground.
We know exactly who the real man is here.
You can’t even take care of your own fucking family, you have to run away and make me do it.
Touch me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.
Don’t even look at Silas. Our gay assess are done with your fucking shit. ”
Technically, I’m bi. And Silas is… Silas. Probably demi, but we haven’t talked about it. But none of that sounds as punchy.
I swell with pride at my little takedown, and Kyle finally seems to have given up fighting against Ford. He’s not even looking at me anymore because his face is in the gravel.
My pride comes crashing down when Silas gets in my face again, grabbing me with both hands and holding my face still.
I think there are tears on his cheeks.
“Cade, fucking stop,” he says, sounding angrier than I ever would have expected. “Shut the fuck and stop. You’re going to hurt someone.”
My breath catches.
I… What?
I’m standing up for myself.
My expression must have given me away, because his face gentles but when he speaks again, it’s still just as stern.
“Stop, okay? This is done. We need to leave before the cops show up.”
“I just… I was protecting us.”
Silas takes a deep breath and sighs, some unspeakable kind of heartbreak in his eyes.
“I know you think that. Just—stop. Okay? Breathe. Can Tristan let you go now?”
Not knowing what to say, I nod. My limbs are still tense, muscles straining where my shoulders have been jerked backwards, and trying to soften them feels like unrolling cardboard that sat in the sun until it baked itself stiff.
I nod again, taking a conscious breath, and finally the hands on me relax. My muscles scream in protest as my hands fall down to my side, limp because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself. The pain and exhaustion are starting to set in, and I can feel it when my hands begin to shake.
“Fuck me, kid, you really went for it, didn’t you?
” Tristan’s voice moves from behind me to in front as he comes into view, stepping between me and Silas to start peering at my face.
He’s already in medical mode, I can tell, but I’m distracted by the fact that he’s also covered in blood, and his nose is swollen and bruised.
I reach toward him without thinking, but he flinches away and then bats my hand down.
“Wha—?” I start, but Silas interrupts me.
“You did that.”
His voice is hard, and he’s standing farther away than I want him to.
“Fuck, I’m sorry T, I just—”
“Not now,” he says. “We can rehash all the questionable choices you just made and their consequences when you’re sober. I’ll be fine. Now look at me so I can make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
I’ve only had three fucking beers, and I’m pretty sure this whole ordeal has burned any alcohol right out of my system, but I get the feeling defending myself will not go down well right now.
I focus on being compliant, following Tristan’s directions without question while my brain retreats into itself in an attempt to beat back the tide of shame that’s threatening to drown me.
Silas’s hard gaze is on me the whole time, and I can’t bear it.
Tristan uses the flashlight on his phone to do a quick exam, checking my pupils and reactions, before he moves his hands to my throat.
I wince, because it’s definitely bruised, but it’s difficult to know how much of that was from what me and Silas were doing, and how much is from Dad hitting me there.
I’m so fucked up is the only concrete thought I can hold onto.
Tristan sighs, finally, apparently satisfied that I’m not about to die.
“I think you should go to the ER just in case, but I already know you won’t. Silas, will you watch him? Rest but don’t go to sleep for a couple hours, make sure he doesn’t start acting weird or having trouble breathing. And call a fucking ambulance if he does.”
“I’m fine,” I say, but my throat is raw and it comes out embarrassingly raspy, I suddenly notice. “I’m sorry.”
My gaze flits between both of them, but I see hard expressions looking back at me. Behind them, I see Krystal walking my dad toward the other side of the parking lot, hopefully to get in his car and fucking leave.
God, he’s going home to my mom. I hope he doesn’t tell her how bad it was.
I hope he doesn’t take it out on her.
“Shit, Mom, we should—”
“No,” Silas and Tristan say in unison.
Silas sighs again. “I’ll call your mom and let her know what happened, and make sure she’s alright. But I don’t think he’s going to feel like fighting any more by the time he gets home. You’re not going anywhere other than the hospital or our home.”
I don’t know why he stresses ‘our’ like that, but my brain isn’t really firing on all cylinders right now.
“You good?” Tristan asks Silas, his eyeline already sliding over to Ford and the others, probably anxious to make sure they’re alright. Silas makes a noise of confirmation and nods.
Most of the crowd has dispersed, either leaving to avoid the drama or heading back inside. But Ford is watching Kyle, presumably to make sure he stays gone, and Gunnar is standing there with his arms around Tobias. And is that… Shit, does Tobias have a black eye?
Guilt cripples me, hard and fast, as I wonder if it was me or Dad that accidentally clipped him while we were too wrapped up in trying to get to each other.
It doesn’t matter, I guess. It’s still my fault.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Tristan one more time as he starts walking away, but he only shakes his head.
“Go home, Cade.”
It’s all he says. It feels like a gut punch.
Silas reaches for my shoulder, the air around us heavy, and turns me in the direction of where we’re parked. I let him. I’ll let him do anything he wants, because I’m only here to fuck shit up, apparently.