Chapter Eight
Throbbing pain woke Kaiden early in the morning, finding the sharp pain of his cuts hadn’t lessened with sleep.
A terrible creak in his neck made him wonder if he’d slept funny or had taken one too many blows to the head last night.
Speaking of, his headache hit hard, and he wished to blame the booze, but knew it was another reminder of the beating he’d taken.
Oh, how Kaiden wished he’d drunk more last night.
Enough to perhaps dull the pain of the attack, enough to excuse his stupidity.
Why had he gone along with James? Was that even his real name?
Unlikely. Kaiden wished he had something to drink now, something to wash away the memories of last night, something to turn his brain into a blurry stew.
“You’re awake,” Rus said, voice quite hoarse first thing in the morning.
“Eh, sort of.”
“Coffee?” Rus asked, crawling out of bed.
He carefully maneuvered so he wouldn’t disturb Dylan, who was still sleeping. Kaiden nodded, and Rus slipped out of the single-room apartment and into the hidden shared space where the kitchen was located. The minute or so of silence was nice, but left Kaiden with a vacuum of his unwanted thoughts.
“I left room if you want cream and sugar,” Rus said, gulping his own black coffee. After he’d downed half the cup, his bloodshot eyes sprang open.
“No, thanks,” Kaiden replied. “I prefer mine black, too.”
A lie but a semi-truth he’d grown accustomed to saying.
Kaiden preferred his coffee sweet and sugary and plump with a thousand unnecessary calories.
Occasionally, he’d treat himself to a decadent mocha and delicious pastry from a coffee shop.
But most days, he preferred not burning through his daily calorie intake with drinks or sweet desserts.
Especially not when he’d easily gone over his deficit with way too many cocktails last night.
He felt so stupid thinking about his nutrition, given everything that had happened.
Kaiden took a sip of his coffee and nearly choked as he spit it up.
“What the hell is this?”
“Sorry,” Rus said with a bit less gravel in his voice. “I only got instant here.”
“Blasphemy.” Kaiden shuddered.
He set the cup on the nightstand and gestured dramatically, like with enough flair, he’d blow the coffee away in a telekinetic fit and wash away the horrid aftertaste stuck in his mouth. Alas, he had no magical powers or memory-altering abilities, so he calmed after his small fit.
“I’m going to follow up on the police report on Monday if you want to join.”
“Join?” Kaiden raised a brow.
“On your report.”
Kaiden let out this awkward huffy chuckle and shook his head.
It seemed bizarre to follow up, especially when those taking his statement seemed rather disinterested.
Not that Kaiden was eager to document his foolishness.
Still, this wasn’t the first time he’d been beaten up for being gay.
Perhaps the worst time. Most of his encounters came from bullies in middle and high school.
“I’d rather not make a big deal out of it.”
“Your choice,” Rus replied. “But to be clear, expecting authorities to do their due diligence and uphold public safety isn’t making a big deal. In fact, it’s asking for the goddamn bare minimum, in my opinion.”
“I’ve been down this road,” Kaiden sighed. “I mean, not this one, but like we’ve all been bullied and such. Or most of us. I’d prefer just to put it behind me.”
“Okay.” Rus gave a stoic nod, seemingly offering not to poke Kaiden about the topic.
Now, if he could only put it all behind him by the time he went home. He knew his family would have questions, concerns probably.
“Aaaaaargh,” Dylan let out an exasperated groaning yawn as he stretched himself awake.
His legs kicked under the blankets for freedom; his arms brushed against Kaiden and Rus.
“Morning,” Kaiden said, pushing Dylan’s arm away.
“What’s good about it?” Dylan blinked a few times. “Wait. What? I thought you said good morning.”
“What’s good about it?” Rus scoffed.
The three laughed a bit, then sat silently in the bed for a few minutes.
Dylan checked his phone, likely screening for any calls or texts he’d gotten from Dorothy’s Home.
Kaiden had learned long ago that Dylan lived for work.
But he figured as far as obsessions go, caring about a job that kept kids off the streets wasn’t the worst thing.
Kaiden sank into the mattress, wishing he could lay in bed with Dylan and Rus all day. A waste of a weekend, but Kaiden would love some time away from the world. This tiny apartment seemed like the perfect place to hole up in.
“Do you have any coffee?” Dylan yawned.
“Well, I—”
“No,” Kaiden firmly answered, knowing damn well Dylan was even pickier about his coffee.
“There’s a place around the corner,” Rus said. “It’s right on campus.”
“Is it even open?” Dylan asked, likely suspecting the college was completely shut down on the weekends.
At least Kaiden figured as much. Neither of them had attended college, so their understanding was limited.
“It’s open,” Rus replied.
“Oh, that’s cool.”
Kaiden slid off the bed and pulled himself to his feet. The floor bed was far more work escaping than collapsing into the night before.
It didn’t take long for them to get dressed. Kaiden needed the most time as he laced up his corset vest. He wasted a few minutes trying to make his clothes a little less disheveled, but last night had taken its toll on more than him. It’d ruined one of his favorite outfits.
He’d mostly washed off his makeup late last night, but in the morning light, he now realized how poorly he’d done.
After removing the last bits, he examined the bruising settling on his face and neck.
His stomach ached, and his chest burned.
There were so many other bruises and cuts and pains to examine, but that was the last thing Kaiden wanted to do.
“Ready.” He joined Dylan and Rus with a phony soft smile plastered on his face.
It didn’t take long for them to head over to the campus coffee shop. Kaiden felt incredibly awkward in his ruined outfit and visible bruising. When Dylan had perked up with his sweet caffeine treat, he offered to take Kaiden home. Ugh, the absolute last place he wanted to go right now.
“You can chill at my place as long as you want,” Rus said, giving Kaiden the ultimate offering he’d gladly accept.
If only he could.
“I have work.”
“Seriously?” Dylan stared, perplexed. “Call out. Alison will understand.”
“No,” Kaiden sighed. “I need the money if I’m ever going to get my own place in a million years.”
“Well, the offer’s good all weekend,” Rus replied. “I don’t got shit going on. We can chill with movies or something. Game. Hell, day drink. I might not have a coffee pot, but I do have a nice mini bar setup.”
Soon after, Dylan and Kaiden headed out, and he dropped him off at home.
Thankfully, his stepfather’s car wasn’t in the driveway, which meant he and Kaiden’s mother had likely gone to the flea market.
They tended to make their Saturday mornings all about getting good deals on junk they didn’t need and had never wanted before setting foot into the bargain shops.
With any luck, his sister and brother-in-law were still asleep. It was doubtful the little terrors were sleeping, and Kaiden figured they’d have a hundred questions on what happened to his face.
Kaiden slipped inside, bolted directly to his room, grabbed an outfit, ignored the blasting cartoons coming from the living room, and turned into the kitchen to make his way to the basement, where he could get ready in peace.
“Finally home, I see,” his sister said, facing away from him as she microwaved Kaiden’s breakfast bowls.
Of course, she took them. She’d tossed three in at once, obviously doing her best to ready a meal for herself and the kids.
Kaiden rolled his eyes. Whatever. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken his stuff without asking, and it wouldn’t be the last time.
Right now, he didn’t have the energy for an argument.
“I see your little fundraiser turned into a rager,” Sandra said, waiting for the beep of the microwave. “I unlocked the door for you, figuring I’d be nice despite how you canceled last minute, but you didn’t even bother coming home.”
“Things ran late.” Kaiden lingered in the kitchen, wanting to say something, wanting to explain what had happened, but every fiber of his being told him to just go to the basement and get ready for work. “I’m sorry if Mom had to watch the kids. I wasn’t—”
“Jesus Christ, Kaiden!” Sandra locked her eyes onto his, but they drifted, studying his bruised face, his ripped clothing, the specks of dried blood scattered across his itchy skin. “What the hell happened to you?”
His eyes swelled, and he gave a teary response. “I got assaulted last night.”
“Oh my God, sweetie, that’s horrible.” She swept in close, wrapping Kaiden in a rare hug, and pulled him away from the basement door and toward the kitchen table.
“How did this happen? Why? What fucking monster had the audacity? Who was there? Was this because of the kids you were helping? Jesus, I know people don’t like it, but did they really have to attack you because of a couple gay kids? ”
Sandra was still under the impression that Kaiden had gone to a last-minute fundraiser to help Dorothy’s Home.
Kaiden knew the appropriate response was to keep up the lie, to hold back the details.
Mostly, he didn’t want to divulge the truth, didn’t want to invoke his sister’s pity or judgment, but as she sat so close to him, cradling his head as she examined his stitches, Kaiden couldn’t keep the words in.
The truth poured out as he released a gasp of sorrow that’d built inside him. “No, we were at Himbos, just trying to have a nice time.”
His chest lightened as he let out a sob of pain he’d tried desperately to bury.
“Oh.” Sandra paused her examination. “You held the fundraiser at the gay club?”