Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
What Friends Are For
Madison
The drive home is a blur of trees and painted, glowing lines from my headlights.
I blink through the tears stinging my eyes, but it only causes more to fall, distorting my vision worse than the strobe lights.
What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking like this?
I don’t believe in those things, and I know I don’t, but I can’t get my mother’s voice out of my head, telling me I’m wrong for who I am. And I hate it.
I hate it all, and it’s poisoning me.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
Mayhem was supposed to be a final release.
And it was. It was full of revitalization and understandings.
I realized I love Cedrick… I mean, how could I not? The crazy man has been obsessed with me—me—since we met. He knows me. He’s heard of my past and what I deal with, and it didn’t scare him away…
But I ran. Because I scared myself.
These feelings are too big for me to bear alone, and I can’t… I can’t understand them.
I need help.
I need—no. I cut the thought off as soon as it comes. Pastor Laurence will not help me. He’ll only confuse me more, and I know that.
No. What I need are people who understand. Someone to talk to.
Someone who cares.
And they don’t—and never will.
By the time I’m pulling up to the house, it’s just past eleven at night, and my body sags with exhaustion even worse than the first time I was at Mayhem. I put the car into park and drop my head against the steering wheel as I let the tears fall freely for the first time since I left.
The sobs wrack me as the thoughts swarm—and I let them.
I let myself feel it all because I have to.
There’s no other way.
I’ve sinned. What I’ve done goes against God, and it’s wrong. I’m a terrible person for loving a man. For wanting a man this way.
No, I’m not. There’s nothing wrong with love. Love is the purest thing of all, and how could something like that be wrong?
You were told it’s wrong. In the Bible, it says it’s wrong.
In the Bible, it says you can’t even eat certain foods, or if you steal something, you could get your damn hand cut off. It’s not practical. This is the twenty-first century.
But why do so many people believe it if it’s so strict and ridiculous? Do they just pick and choose what rules to follow? Because it seems to me, that’s what they do.
They just choose to eat what they want. They choose to cheat on their spouses. They choose to hate queer people.
It’s not fair.
Someone shouldn’t be hated for who they are—for who they love.
How is that wrong?
A knock sounds against my window, and I jerk back with a gasp to find Kane standing out in the cold in only his pajama pants and a t-shirt.
I roll down the window. “What are you doing?” I croak.
“You’ve been out here for a while, and I thought something might be wrong,” he says easily, but I see the tension in his eyes. “Looks like I was right.”
I stare up at Kane, a denial on my tongue, but what’s the point? I’m a damn mess, and I know it.
“Yeah,” I breathe the truth, and Kane gives me a sad smile.
“C’mon, buddy. Let’s get you inside so we can talk.” He watches me roll up the window before I turn the car off and step out, shivering as the cool autumn air washes over my bare skin. I walk beside Kane to the house. The tension is thick between us, but I find I don’t mind it much.
“Madison…” he trails off as we trudge up the stairs. He reaches for the door and holds it open for me.
“Thanks,” I say as I walk through. “What?”
“Can I ask you something?” he says, and his nose is wrinkled slightly as he looks at me. I don’t sense any judgement, but the moment I notice his facial expression—confusion and slight aversion, I remember. And my face burns hot because I know I smell of Cedrick’s urine.
“Oh,” I squeak, choking on spit as it flies into the back of my throat. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, feeling shame—not for the first time.
“No. Madison, no,” he reiterates with a hand on my shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want to make sure you’re… well. Not okay, but okay, if you know what I mean.”
I blink at him a few times, confused, before his words sink in. “Oh. T-thanks. I’m… fine.”
He gives me a small smile with tired eyes. “Why don’t you go get a nice, long, warm shower and meet me in my room. We’ll hang out, watch a movie, talk, whatever you want to do. But I don’t think you should be alone. How does that sound?” he asks, and I… yep.
I’m gonna cry.
I turn my back on him as the tears make their way back and splash down my face in hot streaks. I’m ashamed of my fear, of my own shame. Of the guilt I feel. For feeling any of this at all when I know it’s not wrong.
“Okay,” I finally manage. And then, I start the trek up the stairs, leaving Kane where he stands.
My shower is long and full of white noise as my ears ring and buzz with thoughts and voices warring with one another. Back and forth. And just when I think the logical side is winning, I turn, feel my ass twinge, and then, my mother’s voice is back, screaming at me.
I hate that I hear her at all.
She doesn’t deserve to have space in my mind, but it seems I don’t have a choice in the matter.
By the time I’m stepping out of the shower, my body is heavy with fatigue, and I barely make it to Kane’s room before I’m falling onto his bed in a pile of limbs.
“Tired?” he asks fondly, and I nod, wet hair dragging against the blanket as I do. “Get some sleep, Madi. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“You sure?” I ask, blinking heavily through the grogginess, and I feel him nod from behind me. His body heat is warm, and I lean back into it, grateful I’m not alone.
I don’t think I could stand to be alone right now.
“Sweet dreams,” he says, and my eyes snap open for a few minutes of swirling thoughts before eventually, sleep takes its plunge.
I blink through the grogginess, feeling heavy in more ways than one—and that’s when I realize Kane’s arm is wrapped around my waist, not holding me tight but just holding me. And it’s… nice.
I’ve never slept with someone like this before.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened?”
Anddd, there goes that.
I tense from head to toe, and Kane feels it because he tightens his arm around my waist.
“Look, you don’t have to, but I think it might be good for you. And I’m here for you, Madison. As a friend, of course,” he clarifies, then clears his throat.
I stare at the wall in front of me, and for some reason, with his touch but not his eyes, I find it easy to let the words fall from my lips.
Every thought I had last night in the car, on the way home and when I parked, spills from my lips in a sinful confession. One I never thought I’d make but one that feels necessary.
Kane doesn’t say a word. He just listens as I cry over the hate I’ve experienced, the conflicting emotions I have—that aren’t really that conflicting because I don’t believe the hate; I just keep fucking hearing it in my head.
By the time I’ve explained my parents and their bullshit and what happened with Cedrick the previous night, I feel just as exhausted as I did before I went to sleep.
“Can I tell you something?” he says after a long while of mutual silence. His arm is still wrapped around me—he hasn’t moved this entire time—and it’s been at least an hour or so, and I’ve never been more grateful.
“Of course,” I croak through a hoarse throat.
“You already know who you are, Mads. You know what hate is. You know you don’t stand for it. It makes you sick to even think about, right?”
I swallow as I process his words, unsure where this is going. “R-right.”
“So, maybe you just need to tell them.”
I stop breathing for a few heavy beats of my heart. “What?” I ask, unsure I heard him right.
“I think maybe what you’re hearing in your head is what you imagine your mother saying to you if you ever told her. Am I right?”
I swallow thickly as the tears burn. “Y-y-y-es.”
“Do you think if you told them and heard what they really had to say, it would shatter that illusion? Maybe they’d be more accepting. Maybe they wouldn’t. But at least you’d know, and your mind wouldn’t have to make up scenarios.”
“Oh… I never…” I blink rapidly a few times as I think about it. “I never thought about that.”
“Just an idea…” he trails off, squeezing my waist, and I flush hotly but gratefully as I lean into his touch.
“No…” I nod a few times, feeling a sense of resolve settle in my bones. “It’s actually a really good idea, Kane. Seriously, thank you. I’ll think about it. And thank you for listening to me. It’s… it’s helped me more than you know.”
“Of course, Mads. That’s what friends are for.” Kane drops his head down to rest against mine, and I close my eyes to breathe softly, just enjoying this moment of peace I feel with my friend.
And that’s when I hear someone shout, followed by a bang. Then, there’s more shouting. A closer bang that makes me jerk.
“What the—” The door to Kane’s room flies open to reveal an absolutely flaming Cedrick.
He stands before us, face bare, chest heaving, dark green eyes alight and dancing with…
Oh.
Oh, no…
Oh, nonono.
“Cedrick—no!” I shout just before I’m gently pulled to the side with a grace I don’t deserve, and then, I watch in abject horror as Cedrick’s fist lands directly against Kane’s jaw. The crack resounds, and I wince, jerking back from the impact that was so close.
“No!” I scream, lunging for Cedrick just as he goes to swing again, but Kane’s already pushing from the bed, shoving him back and swinging his arm out to clock him in the face.
“What’s your fucking problem?” Kane spits as they go back and forth, and all I can do is watch in horror as my friend and my… whatever he is, throw punch after punch. And I don’t even know why.
“C’mon, that’s enough!” Collin shouts as he runs into the room and wraps his arms around Cedrick. He growls furiously, managing to escape easily, but Lenny has grabbed Kane and is keeping him contained.