Chapter 18
18
BECK
A nother week passed where I didn’t let Gavin out of my sight. I bought a lockbox and kept the pills in there, like I should’ve done from the fucking start. I was tempted to buy a lockbox for the lockbox, but there was no way he could get into it unless he had the code or a laser cutter.
I never brought up what he’d done and said in the bathroom that day. I could tell it had deeply humiliated him, but…I couldn’t get it out of my mind. And I couldn’t help but think that those were his true feelings, his true desires. That he’d given me a glimpse of the person he might have been had his dad not torn us apart.
The person he might’ve been with me .
The thought was devastating.
The ache in my chest only grew each day I spent with him, and it was hard for me to be genuinely angry with him. Yeah, I got pissed in the moment sometimes because fuck he could be so fucking annoying and stubborn. But I wasn’t actually mad at him.
He kept taking his meds, kept going to therapy, and because he never said more than he had to, I knew nothing about how it was going. But at least he was doing it. I didn’t even have to steal his crutches anymore.
I thought that he was slowly coming to terms with living here. I honestly had no idea what we were doing, all I knew was I needed him to have a safe place to live and I needed to see with my own eyes, every single day, that he was still here. That he was as okay as he could be.
The only bad thing about this arrangement was that the floor was not a comfortable place to fucking sleep for weeks on end. The blow-up mattress I was using started out fine, but by morning, all the air would be gone and I’d just be lying on a flimsy piece of velvet over rubber. My body couldn’t take another night like that.
So that was why, tonight, Gavin was being an asshole again.
“Do you want me to build a wall?” I said, gesturing at the middle of the bed.
Gavin was scowling at me from where he was propped against the headboard. His beard was getting out of control, but he still wouldn’t let me cut it.
“Just use the guest room,” he said. “I’ll be fine by myself. I don’t need you babysitting me every second of the day. I’m fucking sick of it!”
“Too bad,” I said, moving toward the bed.
“Beck, I swear to god, if you get in this bed I will fight you,” he seethed. His eyes seemed darker than they actually were with just the lamp light, and he was looking at me with a wary frustration that I wished I could soothe, somehow.
“Yeah, you can try,” I said, pulling back the covers on the side he wasn’t on.
“I’m serious,” he warned.
“We can watch a movie on my laptop if you want. You love movies. Or you used to, anyway.” I climbed onto the bed and adjusted the pillows, then fell back against them, grabbing my phone and snaking an arm behind my head. “We could watch Akira . I’ll even let you replay the motorcycle slide scene as many times as you want.” That was his favorite movie when we were kids.
“Beck. Please ,” he said with so much desperation that I immediately turned my head and looked at him. He was clutching the covers so hard his knuckles were white, and he looked scared out of his mind.
Jesus Christ.
I had a flashback of the day his dad walked in on us. How terrified he’d looked then. It was so close to how he looked now that it had an overwhelming surge of protectiveness rushing through me.
“Gav, I’m not gonna touch you,” I said softly, hoping to dispel some of the fear in his eyes. “Besides, how many times have we shared a bed, huh?” I was trying for a lighter tone, but only ended up sounding wistful.
“I hate you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. Those three words hurt more than they ever had. I wondered why, because he said them all the time. Maybe this time it felt like he meant them.
“Yeah, I know,” I muttered. Gavin turned on his side, facing away from me. Toward the windows.
I would go sleep in the guest room upstairs, but I honestly didn’t trust him to be okay on his own. It felt like his mind just started moving in the wrong direction when he was left to himself for too long, and I was afraid he’d try to leave again. Or worse.
And truth be told, I craved being near him no matter how mean he was to me. My soul craved it.
Gavin reached over and turned the light off. I used the glow of my phone’s screen to find my earbuds, popped them in, and put a movie on. I rolled onto my side, away from Gavin, and propped my phone in its stand, let the movie play, and fell asleep not long after.
I woke up to Gavin thrusting his hard cock along the crease of my ass in slow, rhythmic pumps. He was plastered against me, as close as he could possibly be, his arms wrapped around me, his hands linked over my chest as he moaned with every thrust. I was pressing back against him before I realized what was happening, my own dick throbbing at the feel of him, and that only excited him more. I felt his quick, shallow pants against the back of my neck, the sound of it ringing in my ears and sending bursts of heat right to my balls as he thrust harder, faster, grinding against me.
He was coming a few seconds later, and the low moan he let out right by my ear, the way he shoved his cock as hard into me as he could, how he crushed me to his body like he wanted to slip inside of mine, the intensity and desperation of it all—everything about him almost made me come right then and there without even touching myself. Precum leaked from my cock, sticky and warm, and Gavin was breathing hard behind me, still pumping his hips a little through the aftershocks.
I could barely breathe, and I was so afraid to move because I had no idea if he was awake or asleep. And I was so turned on that I felt almost lightheaded, like I couldn’t think properly. All I wanted to do was fucking come, and having Gavin hold me again after ten long years without him felt like coming home. I was right where I was supposed to be, I knew that in my very soul, and I never wanted to move again.
Gavin stiffened against me, and I knew then that he’d been asleep or not fully awake. That he was just now waking up and realizing what he’d done.
Fuck.
He started to tremble against me, and my heart cracked open.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“Gavin,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, level, calm. I felt anything but those things. “It’s okay. It’s fine. You were asleep, you didn’t know?—”
Gavin ripped himself away from me and shoved hard at my back. I could hear his sharp inhales, like he was having trouble breathing, and then he started pounding on my back with his fists. They were sloppy hits, disjointed and uncoordinated and they didn’t really hurt. But when he stopped hitting me and started making choking sounds, I pushed up onto my hands and knees and looked at him.
He was a fucking wreck. There were tears streaming from his eyes—eyes that were open wide, eyes that looked almost crazed—and his hands were clawing at his chest, like he was trying to rip it open. The wheezing sounds he was making were raising all the fine hairs on my body.
“Hey,” I said, moving toward him. “Sit up.” I reached for his arm and he immediately lashed out at me with a closed fist. Talking to him wasn’t going to work and I was pretty sure he was having a panic attack, so I quickly grabbed hold of his bicep, jerking him upright and maneuvering myself behind him before he could react. I took hold of his forearms, pressed my chest to his back as I spread my legs wide, bracketing his, and said, “Gavin. It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe. Breathe for me. Can you do that?”
He was trembling violently in my arms, choking and coughing and crying and wheezing, and the utter misery and terror he was feeling was breaking my fucking heart.
I started rocking him backward and forward. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay. You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you. It’s okay,” I murmured, resting my cheek on his head. I started taking deep breaths in the hope of it getting him to do the same. “You’re safe, Gavin. You’re safe right now. No one’s gonna hurt you. Breathe for me. Take deep breaths.”
I kept talking to him, kept breathing, kept rocking him, and eventually he tried to follow my breathing. His hands were clutching my arms, and every ragged, choppy inhale got deeper and deeper, started to become less choppy, his tremors less intense.
“Good, you’re doing so good. Just keep breathing. That’s it. Just like that. Good,” I said softly.
I wasn’t really sure how long it lasted, how long I held him like that, how long it took him to calm down. But when the room had brightened a little, when his breathing had become deep and even, he leaned back and rested his weight on me.
I had no idea if Gavin was sleeping or just sitting here, letting me hold him. There was an ache in my chest; a painful, persistent sensation that throbbed with every beat of my heart. Part of me was sorry I’d slept beside him against his wishes. That I’d triggered him like this. But there was a different part that said maybe he needed to face his issues head on, because how else was he going to get better?
But, no. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to cause him any kind of pain. He’d had enough of that already. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be him. What went on inside his mind. The layers and layers of armor he’d built around his most vulnerable parts were thick and many.
I brushed my thumb along his skin, back and forth.
“I don’t understand,” he croaked, startling me. “Why, after everything I’ve done to you…why are you still so fucking nice to me?” His voice was raw, a barely there, scratchy thing coated in exhaustion.
It was a good question.
He’d called me endless names, shoulder-checked me too many times to count, tripped me, or just straight up ignored me. He was mean. A bully.
But…I was starting to understand why now. Except I didn’t have the full picture. I didn’t necessarily need it, and I wasn’t sure I would ever get it. But I wanted it. I didn’t want Gavin to live in that pain alone.
There was only one reason I was doing all this.
I tightened my arms around him and said softly, “Because part of me still loves you, Gavin. And that part will always love you, no matter what you do. I know you’re in pain. And you need to know that I will never, ever try to make you feel ashamed of who you are. You used to trust me to help you, when you needed it. You can trust me again. I’m the same person I’ve always been. I’m not the one who changed.”
A wet, strangled sob tore from his throat, and the hands he’d kept on my arms squeezed hard. But he didn’t say anything, just cried quietly in my arms.
After a while, he pushed my arms away and moved out from between my legs, saying woodenly, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
I let him go, and he didn’t look at me once.
He walked away on his crutches, taking a piece of my heart with him.
“We’ll be able to get that off in a few weeks.” The nurse gave Gavin a smile. He didn’t return it. “You’re healing well and it looks like there won’t be any permanent damage.”
Thank fuck.
I’d brought him to my doctor since he didn’t have one. The bill was going to be huge because he didn’t have insurance, but whatever. He was worth every penny. I didn’t care how much it cost, I was going to fucking help him.
I glanced at Gavin, who was staring down at his feet in the chair across from mine.
He’d withdrawn into himself, had been completely closed off since his panic attack on Sunday, and I was trying not to let it bother me.
Keyword: trying. Because it was bothering the fuck out of me, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
It was always one step forward, two steps back with him.
I’d gone back to sleeping on the inflatable bed because I didn’t want to scare him again and I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.
I just wanted him to fucking talk to me instead of hiding himself behind those steel walls.
The nurse spoke again, and I wished she hadn’t. “You should be careful with yourself, hon, I don’t think your boyfriend here likes seeing you get hurt.”
I guessed the paperwork the hospital sent over had some extra information on it. Fuck.
Gavin’s eyes flew to mine as his lips parted. He sat up straighter and looked at the nurse. “Boyfriend?” he said softly.
“Partner, significant other, soul mate, twin flame, whatever you call each other,” she said, having no idea that that’s not why he’d repeated it.
I watched as Gavin’s face got redder and redder and redder, his clenched fists shaking on his knees. When he cut his eyes back to mine again, there was so much animosity in them that it made my stomach sink.
His lip pulled back in a sneer as he said, staring right at me, “We’re not?—”
“Going to let it happen again,” I cut in loudly. “Thanks, you’ve been very helpful today.”
“Fuck you, Beck!” he snarled, startling the nurse as he grabbed his crutches.
“Sorry,” I said to the nurse. “He’s been really cranky with all the pain.”
She raised her eyebrows and gave Gavin a wary look, then smiled at me, though it came nowhere close to reaching her eyes. “All right. We’ll see you next time!” She practically flew out the door.
“You can’t fucking act like that in public,” I said to him. He was standing now, crutches in place, and giving me the meanest look he could.
I hated that look. It reminded me of when I first saw him again after three long months without him. It reminded me of how I walked right up to him, thinking that things would be the same as they’d always been. It reminded me of the way my entire soul had felt like it was withering away as he said horrible things to me.
I fucking hated that look.
“Why the fuck would you tell them that?” he snarled. “Are you living out some fantasy, you fucker?”
I thought he was going to call me a different name, hadn’t realized I’d tensed up in anticipation of it until my shoulders relaxed.
“No, you idiot,” I snarled right back. “It was the only way to get the hospital to take my claims seriously. If I said I was your best friend up until ten years ago when your dad caught us kissing and you’ve hated me ever since because you went through a drastic change in personality, they wouldn’t have done it.”
He stepped closer. “That’s exactly what you should’ve told them. Because I. Fucking. Hate. You.”
He spat every word with so much venom that they all plunged into my heart and ripped it open from the inside.
I closed the distance between us until we were toe to toe, until I could lean forward and kiss his forehead.
I didn’t.
“Hate me all you want, princess. I’m not going anywhere.”
He growled out a frustrated sound, practically vibrating with anger, then turned and moved to the door.
I bet he would’ve shoulder-checked me if he didn’t have crutches.
I followed him as he made his way out of the office, down the hall, and through the exit.
He swiveled around when we were outside on the sidewalk. “I want you to take me to the homeless shelter. Right now.”
Ice slid down my spine. I curled my hands into fists and said, “Gavin, just think about this. You’re upset right now, and I get it, I?—”
He moved toward me. “Oh, you get it? You get that you keep butting into my life when I never asked you for anything?”
“You didn’t have to fucking ask me, I’m helping you because I want to, because if you were left alone, you wouldn’t ask anyone for help! Just like you haven’t for years! I know you’re mad, I know you hate the feelings that anything to do with homosexuality brings up?—”
Gavin’s laugh was humorless, and he turned around and started hobbling away.
He was so mad he started walking through the parking lot without even looking for oncoming cars, and when he didn’t see the truck that wasn’t slowing?—
I burst into a sprint and grabbed his sweatshirt, yanking him back before he got hit.
“What—”
The driver was laying on the horn and stopped about half a foot from where Gavin had been. He’d dropped his crutches, and when he realized what just happened, he bent down to pick one up and started smashing it against the hood of the truck, yelling obscenities.
My heart was pounding, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline that was pumping through my veins, but it couldn’t. “Gavin!” I shouted at him, grabbing his arm.
“Let go of me, Beck! You?—”
When the driver’s door opened, when the driver stepped out and came into sight, I felt like a wrecking ball had slammed into my gut.
Gavin instantly dropped the crutch he was using to hit the car, stepped backwards, lost his balance, and fell hard on his ass before I could help him. The terrified, anguished sound he made would haunt me for years and confirmed every single suspicion I’d had about his relationship with his dad.
Eric Forster moved around the hood, and when I saw the tire iron he was holding, I put my hands under Gavin’s arms and quickly dragged him back. Then I stood in front of him, balling my hands into fists.
I’d fucking kill him with my bare hands if he tried to use that tire iron.
Gavin’s dad adjusted his grip on the iron as he assessed us. He wasn’t a tall man, but he was stocky. Built. He’d worked physical labor all his life and had the body to show for it. But his hair had thinned out on top since I saw him last. His belly was bigger. Softer. His eyes, though…his eyes were meaner than they’d ever been, and the way he was looking at us right now, I was willing to bet he would love to use that weapon on us.
“Just how unlucky do I have to be to run into you two?” he mused, his cold eyes assessing me. “I can’t even go to the doctor now without bumping into the filth of this town?”
I ignored his awful words and wondered if he’d tried to deliberately run Gavin over, because there was no way he hadn’t seen him. No way he hadn’t recognized him—his own fucking son . The thought sent a violent shock of anger tumbling through me, sparking every nerve-ending until I was shaking with rage.
“Did you just try to run your own son over, you piece of shit?” I seethed.
Eric chuckled, looked down at the tire iron, then set it gently on the hood of his truck. When he looked back at me, he had a smug smirk that made me want to punch it right off his face.
“What son?” he said. He looked around the parking lot, as if searching for something. “I don’t see any son of mine here.” He took a step closer, and every muscle in my body tensed up. “All I see are two fairies that like to take it up the ass. But, wait, who’s the bitch here? Is it you?” He pointed at Gavin, and I wanted to break his finger. With every word he spoke, I wanted to lay him out and run him over with his own truck. “Why am I not surprised to find you together?” His eyes were fixed on Gavin as he said, “All that fucking time I spent trying to make you see things right was a fuckin’ waste.” His eyes cut to mine, hard and hateful. “And it’s all your fault he’s such a fucking pussy. You infected his fucking mind and ruined him.”
I was a raging inferno of hatred, in that moment. I wanted to raze him to the ground with a flash of fire, to turn his every molecule into dust. “You?—”
I felt something on my heel and glanced down to see that Gavin had gotten his knees under him and wrapped his hands around my ankle. He moved up my leg, clutching at my calf and thigh, holding me tight and pressing himself as close as he could. I felt his tremors, saw him visibly shaking, and some of my anger abated and was replaced by the desperate need to get him the fuck out of here.
I looked back at his dad in case he tried something, but he hadn’t moved. His smirk had turned into a disgusted sneer as he eyed Gavin. He spat on the ground between us and said, “Fuckin’ pussy. Shoulda just been a girl since you’re as useless as one anyway.”
Then he picked up his tire iron, got in his truck, and drove away.
Through the anger and adrenaline and fear, I was having a hard time processing what just happened, and my only thought was to get Gavin to a safe place. To get him home.
As soon as Eric’s truck disappeared, I turned around. Gavin let go of my leg when I started to crouch; he was just staring down the road now, so I took his face in my hands. Gone was the meanness from earlier; in its place was shock and fear.
“Hey. He’s gone. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Let’s go home, all right?” His beard was springy under my palms. Coarse and soft at the same time. “Gavin. Look at me. I need you to look at me, princess.” I brushed my thumbs under his eyes, and his faraway gaze slowly shifted to mine. “Good, that’s good. Let’s go home, okay? I’m gonna help you up now, you think you can stand up for me?”
“Yeah,” he whispered, and I was so relieved he was still here with me.
I pulled his crutches over to us, then stood and held out my hand to him. He took it without hesitation, and when I got him to his feet, he moved into my space and pressed his forehead against my shoulder.
Just for a moment.
My eyes started welling up, and I blinked through it, not wanting to cry right now. I could break down later.
But fuck, that one small action had this delicate affection I’d been allowing myself to feel toward him explode into something so powerful it threatened to knock me off my feet. It was like a burst of colors and warmth, a fierce yet tender need to protect him from everything, to do everything I possibly could for him, and I had to battle this intense urge to wrap him in my arms.
And never let him go.
The thin tendrils of hope that were clinging to me thickened, tightened, and for the first time, I thought maybe—maybe I could save him after all.
Maybe.
We made it back to the car just as a cold rain started to fall.
I hated the fucking rain.