Chapter 23
Calvin
I met the deadline to submit the Eagle Saloon design proposal and drawings to Mr. Jackson without requesting an extension. I worked my ass off to get it in. Now, he’ll look it all over, and then we’ll meet for any design changes, or if he wants to tell me to fuck off, which I hope doesn’t happen.
While I managed to get work done, it was hard as my thoughts kept drifting to Seth, his sexy moans, and his willingness to get a little kinky. I can’t believe he’s never frotted before. I make a mental note to do that with him again.
I’m working at home today, catching up on everything as much as I can while Braeden’s in school. He has a key to the house, so I don’t have to be here, but for now, I want to make sure I’m around as much as possible until he feels better about everything.
I wanted to pick him up from school, but he told me he’s riding the bus from now on. What does that mean? Does he not want to be seen with me? Maybe Seth knows. He’s working today, too, but I could text him.
Me: Is it normal that Braeden doesn’t want me taking him to
school and picking him up?
Tiger: ?? He’s a teenager, Joker. Yeah, it’s completely normal.
Tiger: Did you want your mom to pick you up from high
school?
Me: Hell no, but I’m not my mother.
Tiger: It doesn’t matter how close we are to our kids.
Eventually, they want their autonomy.
Me: Makes sense, I guess. Thanks.
Tiger: You’ll both be fine. Trust me.
Me: I do.
I’ve barely eaten all day, and it’s mid-afternoon, so I leave my office and head to the kitchen to make myself a snack. I’m going through the refrigerator to figure out what I’m hungry for when the front door slams. Braeden must be home.
I step out to find a sopping wet boy, sliding out of his shoes, and his face desperately trying to hold it all together. You can tell he’s about to cry. Fuck, what now?
“Brae?”
When he looks up and sees me, a sob escapes him.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing,” he says as he rushes past me, dripping as he goes.
I head back to the kitchen, grab a couple of dish towels, and wipe up the mess. Then, I pick up his shoes, bring them to the laundry room, and toss them into the dryer.
It’s not worry that starts to fuel my soul, but anger.
There’s only one reason he’s soaking wet and looks like he was about to cry.
Bullies. It has to be. What other reason is there, unless he fell into my pool by accident?
In fact, I look out the window at the backyard to find that the tiles by the pool are completely dry.
Shit. Braeden has enough on his plate without kids fucking with him. I can’t explain how much this pisses me the hell off. This isn’t something I’m going to be fucking passive about. No way.
I sit at my computer and look up the school’s phone number. Then I call the principal. I have to leave a message because he’s not answering. Fuck. As an afterthought, I shoot him an email, asking if there are any reports of Braeden being bullied. Regardless, the principal should be aware of it.
As usual, I don’t know what to do, but it’s clear I have to do something. I’m reluctant to lean on Seth because I’m always leaning on him. I’m a grown, intelligent man, dammit. I should be able to figure this shit out.
I head upstairs to see if he’ll talk to me. His door is shut, so I knock, but he doesn’t answer.
“Brae, open up, bud. Please. I’d like to talk with you.”
“Go away!”
My brows shoot up to my hairline. That’s the first time he’s ever had an outburst like that.
My concern grows exponentially. Should I walk in?
Force him to talk to me? If I do as he asks and leave, will that negatively affect our relationship?
I feel like if I leave him alone, he’ll see it as my lack of concern.
But if he needs his space… Shit! This is so hard.
Screw it. He can be mad at me. I just need to make sure Braeden’s not going to withdraw any further than he already has. Thank fuck therapy is tomorrow. The kid really needs it.
“I’m coming in.”
I test the doorknob. At least it’s not locked. I push the door open to find Braeden curled on his side in bed, his back to me. He’s wearing different clothes, so at least he changed and is dry. I find his wet clothes in a pile on the floor.
His room is still devoid of anything personal.
Everything in here is temporary. I know he brought some of his favorite things, but nothing is sitting out.
Not even his instruments. His piano will be here next week.
Perhaps he’ll play then. I doubt it, though, not as things currently stand.
He’s barely practicing his music as it is.
With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, I step inside and slide onto his bed, sitting on the edge. I press a hand to his back, and he flinches me off.
At first, when he came here, he clung to me. Now, he wants nothing to do with me. I know deep down it’s not exactly about me. He’s suffering, and I don’t know what to fucking do about it.
“Did someone bully you, Brae?”
Nothing. Not a peep.
“Please, talk to me, kiddo. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
He abruptly sits up, turns to face me with red eyes, and tears are streaming down his cheeks. How many times had I looked like that after my mother finished with me as a kid, making me feel small and unloved? I know our grief isn’t the same, but it still triggers me.
“Go away! Leave me alone! I hate it here!”
His words cut like a knife. I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t about me. Still, it stings because I’m trying so hard, and I feel like I keep failing him. For every step forward we take, we’re pushed back three.
Braeden tries to roll back over and lie down, but I don’t let him. Instead, I pull him against me. He fights it. Fights me. He doesn’t want to be hugged, but I want him to know he can trust me to be there. I need him to know that I care about him.
“I know you’re not happy. Now, something’s happened to make it worse. Talk to me,” I say again. “Tell me what’s going on. I can’t fix it if I don’t know. If you tell me, there’s a good chance I can get whatever is happening to stop.”
Braeden eventually settles down, resting his head on my chest, but he doesn’t hug me back. He doesn’t break down either. “You can’t fix it. No one can. I hate my life.”
My eyes closed to those last words. His pain is palpable. I fucking ache for him.
“Trust me. I know you don’t have any reason to, but I’m pretty damn smart. I’m sure I can figure it out.”
He sits there for so long, I wonder if he’s ever going to say anything, but I wait him out.
“There are these boys on the bus,” he finally says.
“They’re so cool and popular.” I already know where this is leading.
It’s a tale as old as time itself. “When they started talking to me, and being like nice and shit, I doubted them at first. I mean, I’ve never been popular.
But the more they talked, I started to trust them, ya know? ”
Fuck. I see it all playing out in my head. They gained his trust, then fucked with him. “Then what happened? What changed today?”
“This boy named Bryce invited me over, along with the other boys, to hang out and swim. I told him no at first because I didn’t have swim shorts, but they talked me into it. He said he had some I could borrow.”
I breathe through the anger as it starts consuming me. This poor kid has had enough shit dumped on him. It will affect him for the rest of his life. No kid deserves to be fucking tormented, period.
“I-I went over there. I was happy, ya know? Like these boys actually wanted to be my friends. I thought… I thought maybe this school would be different.”
Flashes of memories hit me from when I was in high school.
A couple of friends would pick on a band kid like Braeden, or someone who was smarter than them and didn’t fit into our mold.
I never bullied anyone because I got it at home, but I didn’t exactly hold my friends accountable either, and was complicit. Peer pressure can be powerful.
“Let me guess, they pushed you in.”
He nods on my chest. “It’s worse. After I got shoved into the pool, I tried to get out, but they jumped in and dunked me. They held me down and I…” His voice chokes, and I can feel how hard he’s trying not to cry. I hold him tighter. “I couldn’t breathe. I fought them, but I’m not strong at all.”
I’m going to fucking strangle those boys. Fucking hell. They could’ve killed him.
“T-they finally let me climb out. As I ran home, I could hear them all laughing and laughing. I don’t wanna go to school. I-I hate it here.”
I don’t blame him one bit for feeling that way. Now, he’s going to have serious trust issues with other kids who will genuinely be nice to him. “I’m so damn sorry, Brae, but I swear to you, I’ll take care of this. You can stay home tomorrow, while I’ll get this fixed. That’s a promise.”
He sniffs and sits up straight, but he doesn’t look at me. “How? You can’t make mean people nice.”
Damn, he’s intuitive, exactly like his mom.
“No, I can’t, but I can get them to leave you alone. Trust me,” I say for the thousandth time, even though the boy has no reason to.
His huge blue eyes meet mine. “W-what do you plan to do?”
I give him a reassuring smile as a plan starts to formulate in my head. “You let me worry about that. The less you know, the better.” I wink at him for added reassurance.
“Okay.”
Before I can climb out of his bed and put my plan into fruition, his fingers grab my arm. “Cal?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s… ah, even worse?”
I fucking tense again. What’s worse than those boys nearly drowning Braeden? Asswipes. “What is?”
He lets me go and looks down at his hands, picking at his cuticles. “I-I thought Bryce was cute. T-they don’t know. I never said anything, but…”
I don’t know whether I should be even more in a rage at his situation or jumping up and down for joy that he literally came out to me, that he trusts me enough to tell me.
I don’t make him elaborate and define anything. Instead, I say, “That must make it extra hard. I’m so sorry, kiddo. Remember that Bryce is a special kind of prick. Most men you come across in your life won’t be like that.”
He sniffs again and nods. “I know.”
I smile at the constant reminder of how smart he is. His understanding that most people aren’t like this Bryce kid gives me hope for the future. Those two simple words reassure me that Braeden will be okay, at least when it comes to friendships. That those assholes haven’t completely ruined him.
“How about we order delivery for dinner tonight? Anything you want.”
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before he looks at me again. “Pizza?”
“We can definitely have pizza. I know a great joint that delivers. What do you like on it?”
“Uhm, pineapple, anchovies, and spinach.”
Before I vomit a little in my mouth, he smirks and shrugs. “Kidding. I like meat lovers.”
“Now, that’s my kind of pizza.”
After I let out a quiet sigh of relief that he’s okay, I stand from the bed and ruffle his hair. It’s starting to grow out and showing it has waves.
“Dork,” I say, winking.
He smiles shyly in response.
I’m so fucking relieved that he’s feeling better. Now, to make those boys learn that they messed with the wrong kid… or the wrong kid’s guardian. Feeling better or not, those boys will learn a valuable life lesson.
“I’ll let you know when dinner’s here.”
He says nothing as he grabs his phone and starts scrolling.
“One point goes to Cal,” I whisper after I close his door behind me. I pump my fist and give myself a mental pat on the back. And I didn’t even need to beg Seth for help. Look at me fucking go!