Chapter 10 #2
He huffs a laugh. “You’d think. Sometimes, the indifference and neglect hurt more than the physical abuse. Being invisible, even when you’re surrounded by family and friends, is fucking lonely.”
Julien takes my hand and leads us out of the bathroom.
We step into the small living room, where he turns on the gas fireplace.
While he spreads the blanket on the rug in front of the fire, I draw the blinds and curtains closed.
He leaves the room and comes back with a clean towel, which he lays over the blanket to protect it.
“Where’s your ointment?” I ask.
He makes his way over to where his bags are still sitting on the floor and digs inside his backpack. When he pulls out the yellow tube, he hands it to me.
I point to the floor. “Lie on your stomach.”
Instead of lying down, he steps out onto the balcony, still naked, and grabs the bottle of tequila. He returns, sets it on the floor, and lies down, resting his head on his forearms.
I sit next to him, squeezing some of the medicine onto my palm. “Let me know if this stings too much.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to be fine.”
He says nothing while I dab some ointment on one of his cheeks, making sure I get a good amount on there. Shit, I’m wincing just looking at it. It must have hurt so much.
Soon, the room starts warming up, and his ass is nearly covered and glistening from the cream.
“Don’t move,” I say before rushing off to wash my hands. I come back with a couple of pillows and an extra blanket.
Once we’re all settled in on the floor, Julien rolls onto his side and holds his arm open. “Come here.”
I tuck my body next to his, and he holds me against him.
“Do you want a blow job?” I ask, feeling like I need to give him something for all he’s paid me so far.
“Not right now. I’m honestly fucking tired.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
He sniffs my neck, pulling a giggle from me since I’m highly ticklish. “You don’t have your sugary smell anymore.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
His sigh is heavy and long. “My stepdad whipped me with his belt. It’s not the first time, but it was definitely the last.”
I stiffen, and my heart aches for him. I’ve never been hit with a belt before, but Tito’s hit me with a crop, a cane, and a paddle, especially when I was younger, and he was grooming me. “I know how much that hurts.”
“That’s not even the worst of it.” Julien cups my jaw and kisses me.
“Sorry, I can’t stop kissing you. It soothes me somehow.
” Before I can respond, he says, “So, the other night I threw a party while my parents were away doing whatever it is the fuck they do without me. They missed my graduation, which isn’t a surprise, but—”
“Still, that’s gotta hurt.”
“Yeah, it stings a little, mostly with my useless mother. The party was meant as a big ‘fuck you’ to my parents. The house was beautifully trashed, just as I’d planned.
I just didn’t count on them coming home early while I was trying to leave for good.
My stepdad beat the shit out of me, then he raped me, who knows how many times, while I was passed out.
He’s always been a monster, but this time he didn’t hold back. ”
“God… He’s a fucking monster. You’re a swimmer. How did no one notice the scars?”
“They did. My stepdad didn’t even have to lie for me.
I did that all on my own because I knew he’d pay off whoever to keep it quiet.
I told the one coach who asked about them that my bio dad did it.
” He shrugs and frowns. “My dad would never, but I already tried to go to the authorities. It was useless.”
I pressed my fingertips to his cheek and dragged them along his face. He’s not crying anymore, telling his story almost robotically. “God, your stepdad’s a prick. My handler and your stepdad belong in hell.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“They can fuck each other for eternity.”
He snorts a laugh and kisses the tip of my nose. “That’d be poetic justice.”
“Julien?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you got to escape.”
He breathes out a laugh and kisses me again. He does that a lot. I can tell he likes doing it. “Only because I had the money to leave. I had to wait until I came into my trust fund and graduated, but I also had to plan everything out, which took time.”
“But you got out. He can never hurt you again.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Julien?”
This time, his chuckle is genuine. “Yeah, Romeo?”
“Can we be friends, like real friends?”
He smiles tiredly and nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
We hold each other for a long time. His body relaxes against mine, and his breathing slows. I gently kiss his forehead like he’s kissed mine.
Julien’s story was triggering as a bunch of memories hit me.
I tried to ignore them so I could be there for him and not make it about me.
Now that he’s sleeping, my mind is clawing at my pain.
I’d give anything to forget all of it. That’s the worst part of abuse: the pain goes away, and scars fade, but the memories never do.
Treating Julien’s wounds also triggers a memory of a similar situation.
When I was thirteen, I tried to fight back for someone else.
Jinx, my roommate, had been fucked for the first time by Tito and was crying.
I’d been so angry because Jinx had only been ten.
I knew what it was like to be so little when that happened.
My eyes slide shut as I fall into the memory I don’t want to have.
I shouldn’t have yelled and cried at Tito. He made me pay for that last act of defiance, ensuring that I’d never stand up to him or protect any of the boys again.
He’s used the cane on me before, but not like this.
Tito had bound me and hit me on my back and ass so hard I thought I was going to die.
Right when I was accepting my fate to leave this world, he finally stopped and threw my broken body onto my bed, still naked. There was no treatment. Only suffering.
Jinx has been my roommate for a year. I tried so hard to protect him, but it’s useless. I’m not strong enough to fight Tito.
I’m delirious from the pain, hurting everywhere. My skin throbs, and it’s hot. I’m sure I’m bleeding, but I can’t reach most of my wounds.
Jinx crawls into bed with me, crying. “I’m so sorry, Romeo.”
I try to give him a tired smile and a pat on his face, but I can’t move. “S’okay…”
“He won’t stop, will he?”
“Nope. You’ll be an obedient whore or a dead whore.” I don’t tell him that to hurt him, but to protect him. Fighting back equals pain. So much pain that you want to die.
“I promise not to cry anymore.”
Tears slide down my face, and I lift my hand and rest it on his bony shoulder. “You can cry. Just cry with me. You’re not alone, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jinx scrambles out of bed and leaves the room. I float in and out of sleep, hurting too much to catch oblivion. He returns after a while with a bowl of hot water, which he sets on the beat-up nightstand we share, along with a washrag and some ointment.
“On your stomach.”
He’s only ten, but he sounds like an adult already. This sort of abuse makes you grow up way too fast.
I roll over and let him take care of me since I can’t do it myself. It hurts like a motherfucker, but the warmth of the water is also soothing. Once he’s cleaned the blood off, he gently dries the skin and applies the salve.
The entire time, he kept mumbling how sorry he was.
It was Jinx’s constant care of my wounds that kept me from scarring too much.
He’s sixteen now and still my roommate. He’s grown to be so adaptive, smart, and resourceful.
He rolls with the punches better than I ever could.
He also hardened himself a lot after that day.
He never cried again, at least not in front of me.
Maybe I’ll text Jinx when this is over. I can take him out of there if he wants to go. Can I afford to take care of the two of us? I’d have to figure it out. We can still sell ourselves to make ends meet, but it’ll be on our own terms. Maybe we can be high-end escorts. That could make us rich.