Chapter 31
31
BECK
14 Hours Earlier…
I stared at the small colonial through my windshield. The chipped red brick looked more auburn now, and there were a few shingles missing on the left side of the roof. Vines traversed one side, curling onto the front facade and crawling over the shutters of an upstairs window.
Gavin’s old room.
My knuckles were white as I squeezed and squeezed and squeezed the steering wheel. I’d been sitting here for over an hour now and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t stop myself from getting in the car and driving here after Jeff told me exactly why Gavin was arrested.
I’d never hated anyone in my entire life.
I never hated Gavin, in spite of everything he’d done. The person he’d become. I never hated him.
But there was no mistaking this venomous, malicious energy buzzing through me for anything other than what it was: hate. A hate so all-consuming I was practically frothing at the mouth. I wanted to grab Eric Forster by the neck and squeeze. I wanted to make him hurt more than he’d ever hurt Gavin. I wanted him to suffer for an eternity.
There was poison seeping from my bones and spilling into every crack and crevice of my being. A toxic cloud that was suffocating me, diffusing into my bloodstream and urging me to make him hurt . Cause him pain beyond anything he’d ever endured.
Make him bleed .
I didn’t recognize myself right now. And that was terrifying.
The only reason Eric Forster was still alive was because Gavin was. I’d called the county jail and asked about him, and they’d told me he was in a holding cell.
Which meant he was okay. He was alive.
Watching that cop car drive away was, without a doubt, the hardest moment of my life. The agony of not being able to help him—of being left there, wondering if he could even breathe—was worse than any torture.
I called Jeff as soon as I got ahold of myself, and he’d gotten in touch with the police right away. He’d made sure they knew he was representing Gavin and he’d given them an earful about the way he was treated while having a panic attack. He would give them more than just an earful soon.
I wanted those cops to lose their fucking jobs. They didn’t deserve to hold a fucking position of authority when they treated a human being like that. They deserved to be locked the fuck up.
A light came on in the upstairs window. The curtain was closed, but I could see a faint shadow of movement.
I gripped the wheel tighter.
I needed to get the fuck out of here before I did something I would regret and got myself thrown in jail. Gavin didn’t need this from me right now. He needed me to be calm and positive and there .
I couldn’t be there if I was here.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, deep breath, then drove away.
Present
As soon as the call came that Gavin’s bail went through, I jumped out of my car and stalked into the police station. I immediately looked for the cops that had taken him yesterday, but they weren’t there. Not where I could see, anyway.
When I spoke with the clerk, she told me it would take an hour or two for the paperwork to be processed. I sat in one of the hard plastic chairs near the door and waited.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. I couldn’t. Not when Gavin was in here, all alone, and probably scared out of his mind. I had no fucking clue which Gavin I would get when he came out, and the anxiety of not knowing was almost debilitating.
I told him I’d never let anyone take him from me again. Every time I thought about it, a fresh wave of nausea-inducing guilt threatened to drown me. I told him that, and look what fucking happened. Logically, I was aware that there was no way I could’ve known something like this would happen and I shouldn’t feel guilty. But all logic had gone out the goddamn window as soon as those cops knocked on our door.
Jeff had gotten a little more information about the supposed timeline of events, and Gavin’s dad had reported the alleged break-in happening around six thirty in the evening.
Bet he had no clue Gavin was in therapy at that time on that day.
Fucking piece of shit.
I’d given Jeff Dr. Varu’s contact information so he could get her down to the police station to speak with them and act as Gavin’s alibi. They would soon see that everything had been a lie, drop Gavin’s charges, and then deal with Eric Forster.
Jeff told me he could spend a long time in prison for what he’d done. I hoped to god he was right.
I spent the next hour bouncing my leg and texting Anya, who was practically inconsolable. I didn’t think she’d slept, either, and I let her stay home from school today because she couldn’t stop crying and begged to be at home when Gavin was let out.
My only consolation through all of this was that Eric Forster’s plan to frame his son had backfired, and he wouldn’t get away with a single goddamn thing.
The double doors leading to the back banged open, and Gavin appeared, escorted by two cops who each had their hands on his arms.
I stood up immediately and took him in.
He was in his clothes from yesterday, which were actually my clothes because that’s all he ever wanted to wear, no matter how many times I asked him if he wanted me to take him shopping. His hair was a mess, he had a day’s growth of beard, and the look on his face told me everything I needed to know about how he was doing. Which version of Gavin was coming back to me.
He looked utterly defeated.
“Gavin,” I said, walking over to him. As soon as he heard me, as soon as he saw me, he froze. It seemed like he experienced a hundred different emotions in the span of three seconds, and the ones that settled in the end were an exhausted anguish tangled with relief. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face crumpling.
The cops let go of him when I walked over. I didn’t acknowledge them, just grabbed Gavin and yanked him against me. His arms flew around my back, hands fisting in my jacket as he buried his face in my neck. He started trembling and made a choked sound, pushing himself into me as hard as he could.
“Becky,” he whimpered into my skin.
“It’s okay,” I murmured quietly, just for his ears. “You’re okay, baby. It’s over. I’ve got you now.” I rubbed a firm hand up his back, holding him tight until his tremors started to die down.
The cops just turned around and went back through the double doors without a word.
When I brought my hand up to cradle the back of his head, he stiffened and hissed in pain. A white-hot rage shot through me as I lowered my hand to the back of his neck. “What happened to your head, Gavin?” I could hear the tightness in my voice, the barely-restrained venom in my tone.
“Nothing,” he lied, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “Nothing, just take me home. Please, please take me home. I just want to go home.”
I could sense how fragile he was right now, that one wrong word would shatter him, so I just said softly, “Okay, princess. Let’s go home.”
I wanted to take his hand in mine, but I didn’t want to freak him out since we were still in public, so I just put a hand between his shoulder blades and ushered him outside. I needed the physical connection so fucking bad because I was having trouble holding in all the anger that had bubbled to the surface when I touched his head.
Who the fuck had hurt him? And why had he lied about it? I was vibrating with rage and by the time we reached my car at the far end of the lot, my breathing was ragged. Having no control in this situation—in what happened to Gavin—was eating away at my sanity. I wanted to shove him in a room and keep him locked up for the rest of his life so that nothing bad could ever touch him again.
My car was in the last spot at the far end, near a small wooded area, and when Gavin walked around to the passenger side, I followed him.
And tried again.
I pressed my hand against the door when he started to open it and stepped close to him, boxing him in from behind.
When he turned his head and looked at me, amber eyes bright in the afternoon sun, I could see that I was wrong. He’d already shattered. Something inside of him had finally snapped, a thread so thin and frayed that it was sheer will holding it together all this time.
I slipped my hand around his waist. “Baby, can you tell me who hurt you? Please?”
In my mind, the answer was ‘everyone’. Everyone had hurt him, had let him down, had failed him in some way.
Including me.
Gavin’s lips parted, and then he closed his mouth and swallowed. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, but his eyes were begging me not to ask again.
This was something I wouldn’t negotiate on. “Did somebody put their hands on you?”
When he realized I wasn’t going to let it go, he dropped his hand from the door and turned around to face me. I stayed right where I was, not giving him a lot of space to move, but it was enough.
“Who?” I asked softly, taking my hand off the door and sliding my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, a soft hum sounding in his throat. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in, trailing my nose along his jaw to his neck, inhaling the scent of him mixed with that disgusting place. I was giving him a fucking bath when we got home.
I pressed a kiss to his neck. “Who hurt you, princess? Tell me who it was.”
The only reason I was touching him like this was because the car completely blocked us from view and there was nothing but trees at my back. If he pushed me away because that still wasn’t enough, I would stop.
Gavin tilted his head, exposing more of his neck to me and giving me all the answer I needed. He grabbed onto the front pockets of my jacket and said, “I’m sorry.”
I paused, then lifted my head to meet his eyes. “For what? What the hell do you have to be sorry for? You haven’t done anything!”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice so fucking small. “His uncle was right. I’m a coward. I can’t do this, Beck. I can’t.”
His words were like a physical blow. “What?” I breathed out. “You’re not a fucking coward, Gavin! What the fuck happened in there? Whose uncle said that to you?”
My chest was heaving as I looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to figure out what the fuck happened because he wasn’t fucking telling me. I was about to lose my shit, and we were in the parking lot of a fucking police station.
I pressed my body against his and said, “Whose uncle, Gavin?”
“Brody Corelli,” he whispered, and the shock of that was enough to make me take a step back.
I’d met Brody’s uncle. He was a fucking giant.
I was going to fucking kill him.
I stepped back into Gavin’s space and gently gripped his jaw. “He’s the one who hurt you?” He didn’t say anything, but him not denying it was enough of an answer for me. I wanted to go on a fucking rampage, like a goddamn berserker, just obliterate everything that was causing him pain.
My rage seemed to finally spark against Gavin’s, igniting his own anger, and he jerked his chin out of my hand. “So what! All I ever do is hurt people!” he cried, anger, pain, and remorse heavy in his eyes. “You’re so fucking incredible and you deserve someone that’s going to make your life better, not drag you through the fucking mud! I will never be good enough for you! I don’t care what you say, I’m bad. I’m fucking bad and bad just follows me no matter where I go or what I do. I can’t let you get hurt because of me, that’s all I’ve done. It’s all I’ll ever do. So just let me go! I don’t deserve to?—”
“Never,” I growled. “I will never fucking let you go, you stupid son of a bitch! Christ, Gavin, do you hear yourself?” I grabbed the front of his hoodie and pushed him against the passenger door. “Listen to me very carefully,” I seethed. “You don’t get to fucking do this right now. I’m not letting you do this. You have been working your fucking ass off to get better! I don’t even think you know what you’re saying right now. You’ve just been through something traumatic and I get that you’re overwhelmed and confused, I get that . But you can do this and you know you can. What did his uncle say to you? He put his hands on you? Tell me how he fucking hurt you!” I was practically growling at the end, shaking with my anger, needing some kind of outlet. I wanted to hurt everyone who had hurt him in the last twenty-four hours. He’d taken one blow after another after another, not a single person giving a fuck that he was a fucking human being too .
Gavin was staring into my eyes as he held my wrists, devouring my words and hanging onto me like I was the only thing keeping him here. I thought I was, honestly. He’d even told me as much. And that was the saddest fucking thing in the world to me. I wanted him to want to be here because of himself, not me. I thought we’d been getting there.
I let out a rough, pained sound and shoved my forehead against his. “You asked me to not let you be like this and I’m not fucking letting you. I don’t care if I have to do this every day for the rest of my fucking life because you are worth everything . All of it. You do deserve. You deserve it all. I fucking love you and I wish you could see what I see. I know you don’t, you might never be able to, but I need you to keep trying. Keep trying like you have been, baby, because I don’t think I can survive losing you again.”
I dropped my head onto his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his waist, breathing hard, feeling like I might shatter right along with him.
Who would pick up our pieces then?
When Gavin’s fingers slid into my hair, I let out a shaky breath. I felt him place a kiss on the side of my head, and I sagged against him. All my anger, all my strength, every last bit of the wretched emotions that had been plaguing me since he’d been taken unlatched themselves from me and dropped away with that kiss.
I just needed him. His love. Only him.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, breaking my heart. “I just want to be okay, Beck. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I thought I was getting better. And now all this is happening? It makes me feel like I’m fucking drowning .”
I picked my head up and framed his face with my hands. “You are getting better,” I said vehemently. “You are . You never would have been this honest with me three months ago. I need you to see the progress you’re making, because it’s there. It’s in everything you say and do, and nobody could ever blame you for doubting yourself right now, not after what you just went through. Your dad is fucking evil , Gavin, but we are going to fight him. Together. Don’t let him get in your way, okay? We’re getting you out of this. You were in therapy at the same time your dad is accusing you of doing that shit. Dr. Varu is your alibi for that evening, and you’ll be let off the hook. Okay?”
Gavin almost went completely lax in my arms, as if I’d just lifted the weight of the entire world off his shoulders for him. “Oh my god,” he murmured, closing his eyes.
“I don’t care what Brody’s uncle said, you’re not a fucking coward. He doesn’t have a single clue what you’ve been through, and he’s rightfully upset that you hurt someone he loves. But he doesn’t know the first thing about you, so what he thinks doesn’t fucking matter and I’m going to fucking kill him for putting his hands on you. I’m telling you right now you’re not a coward, you’re just scared. And there’s a difference.”
Gavin closed his eyes and leaned into my left hand as a tear slid down his cheek. I wished I could bear the burden of all his pain, could somehow siphon every last drop from him. I should’ve expected some kind of regression, knowing him as I did now. But it was getting easier and easier for him to chip off the doubt and insecurities that grew and clung to him like barnacles, and that gave me a tremendous amount of hope.
I brushed his tear away with my thumb and said, “No matter how heavy things get, I will be right here helping you carry it all. You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. Let me help you see the things I see when I look at you.”
When he opened his eyes again, that warm honey color looking brighter than ever, he gave me a wobbly smile that squeezed my heart and said, “You’re too good for this world, Beck. You always have been.”
I shook my head. “I’m not, though. I’m really not. I have a lot of fucking bad in me, so don’t put me on some pedestal. Both of us exist here, on level ground. I love you, Gavin. Do you know what that means? That I love every single part of you, good and bad. Flaws and all. When I look at you, I see only you , baby. The you you’ve always been. And yeah, you’re a dick sometimes, but you’re my fucking dick, okay? You’re my dick and my asshole.”
His lips tilted up a the corners, and god, I was so fucking glad I could still make him smile despite everything. “You sure you don’t want to rephrase that though?”
I pressed my hips into his and said in a low voice, “I think I said it just right.” I kissed his left cheek and murmured, “My dick.” Then I kissed his right cheek. “My asshole.” I took his lips in mine, sucked gently on the bottom one, and said, “Mine.”
He let out a shaky breath and whispered against my lips, “I love you, Becky. I love you so, so much and I don’t think I would have made it this far if I’d ever stopped.” He squeezed my wrists and said, “ I love you, too . That’s what I should have said the other night, but I…” His smile faltered, his face beginning to crumple, and I dragged him against me.
“It’s okay, princess. I know you love me,” I murmured into his hair, my heart feeling like it might race right out of me.
His voice was muffled when he said, “Always an arrogant prick.”
I huffed a laugh, “Yeah, but I’m your arrogant prick.”
“Yeah,” he said, turning his face into my neck. “You are.”
I tilted my head slightly, until my mouth was by his ear, and said softly, “Now tell me what happened in there, otherwise I’ll just go get arrested and ask Brody’s uncle myself.”
Gavin jerked his head up and shoved at my chest. “Shut the fuck up, Beck. Don’t even joke about that.”
“Who said I was fucking joking?”
His brows were drawn low over his eyes as he glared at me, and fuck, I was half hard just from that look. “You better be fucking joking. You know, only you can make me crazy happy one second and piss me off in the next. I swear to god if you do something as stupid as that I’ll?—”
I pushed myself against him, every line of my body from chest to thigh flush with his. “You’ll what?” I asked softly, lifting my brows. I could feel his erection pressing against my own and I couldn’t resist doing a slow roll of my hips as I watched his face. His eyelids dropped to half-mast, his lips parted, and a delicious flush began to creep across his cheeks. I slid both hands into his hair, grabbing tight as he gasped. “Tell me what happened.”
I heard his throat click as he swallowed. “He—oh, fuck,” he panted when I pulled his hair. My cock was thick and throbbing against his, heat sparking in my balls with every shift in his microexpressions.
“Tell me,” I urged, moments away from sliding my hand between us and rubbing him to completion.
“He just—he just grabbed me, that’s it,” he said breathily.
I stopped moving. “That’s not it,” I growled. “Tell me the truth, princess, and maybe I’ll let you come.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, writhing against me even though I wasn’t moving anymore. “Okay, okay. He pushed me up against the wall and I hit my head. That’s it. That’s the truth. I swear.”
I could tell it was the truth, and hearing it didn’t make anything better. “How hard? How hard did you hit your head, baby? Come here,” I said, peeling myself off him and turning him to try and find the wound.
“Stop—stop it! It’s fine, Beck, get off,” he said, irritated now and trying to push me away.
“Fine. I’ll just pin you down when we get home,” I told him, and when his eyes flashed to mine, the heat in them went straight to my cock. “Get in the car, princess. We’ve got a few things we need to work out and I’m not doing it at a fucking police station.”