Chapter 19
Gavin
F ucking paperwork. And he was making me sign it myself so he wouldn’t have to IVC me, and therefore I got no hearing and no chance to speak up for myself. I hated that he was so good at the bullshit he created. They could keep me as long as they wanted to. They could keep me until I was so broken Gavin didn’t exist anymore, because that was as close as they’d come to making me straight.
He threatened Nick. He spouted off Nick’s apartment number and the route Nick took to work. He didn’t bother mentioning the others, even though I could tell he was gunning for Caden. He knew where to aim to get me to sign the fucking papers. We were at the police station, where, like Collin had warned me, he’d told them I’d had a mental breakdown due to my addiction. Told them it was why I’d run away after stealing from my job to feed said addiction. Even though he’d been caught being the manipulative asshole that he was and fired from his position as Sheriff, he still had plenty of friends in high places. He’d done such a good job making it look like his story was the truth, even before I knew he was doing it, that everyone believed him. He was a politician scorned, but he was sorry, and he was dealing with a son who had gotten himself into a whole mess of trouble and he was trying to help . I hated him so much.
I knew if I tried to tell someone what really happened, they wouldn’t believe me. None of them would. If I tried to ask for help, they’d think I was losing it even more. And then he’d go after Nick, while I was locked away and unable to warn him.
I stood there signing my life away while I just wanted to die and get it over with. The pastor and Kolders stood behind me, and my dad was beside me, signing his own name. He straightened when he was done and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Gavin, but they’ll get you the help you need. I know I failed you, but I’ll make it up to you.” My teeth ground together as I stared at him, and I knew my silent hatred was loud enough he could hear it.
I was led outside by the pastor and Kolders while I heard my dad’s old buddies behind me, comforting him and telling him that he hadn’t failed me, it wasn’t his fault. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight and run. Maybe if I did they’d just shoot me, because I’d rather be dead than go back to that place. I doubted they would ever let me off that easily, though. It wouldn’t end that quickly for me. I followed them to the car. I didn’t have it in me to try.
I sat between Kolders and some guy I didn’t recognize. The pastor sat up front with another guy who was friends with my dad. I recognized him but didn’t know his name. He used to be a cop; I wasn’t sure if he still was. Either way, I knew he was armed.
As we drove, my dread grew, because I knew the way there and the closer we got to that place, the more I wanted to vomit. “Your punishment will need to be severe, Gavin,” the pastor said, his voice cold and emotionless, “You’ve gravely upset your father.” I wondered what my father had on him, how he was getting the pastor to do his bidding. I had a feeling it was extortion rather than bribery in his case. He went on, “You can’t run away from your problems like you tried to. You have to face them head on, and it’s going to be hard work fixing you now.”
Fixing. Fixing? I wanted to hit him. I wanted to punch him right in the back of his gray head. I wanted to punch Kolders in the nuts and spit in their faces. But I didn’t. Because I just wasn’t that brave.
The car slowed to a stop and as soon as I saw the building, my stomach churned. I tried to swallow down the bile, to retain my composure, but as soon as Kolders pulled me out of the car and my feet hit that familiar driveway, I lost the battle. I bent over and heaved, my vomit splattering all over his shoes and the pastor’s.
“Good heavens, Gavin,” the pastor said, tsking me, “That’s disgusting. Get ahold of yourself.” He looked at Kolders who was also making a face as he looked at his shoes, lifting them up like he could escape the mess on them by moving them, “Get him inside.”
I fought them. I dragged my feet and struggled, trying to pull my arms away. The other three still managed to pull me forward, the pastor walking in front of us. As we got close to the door, though, all the panic and fear that I’d been doing my best to hold at bay erupted completely. I flipped the fuck out on them, yanking my arms to get away, my feet sliding along the concrete and causing one of my shoes to come off. I dropped and twisted and made it difficult as fuck for them. I felt the tears on my face and my breaths were coming rapidly. I heard myself say, “No!” more than once.
They grunted and complained as they struggled with me, continuing to force me slowly toward the door. I wanted Nick. I wanted his hug. I wanted his hands. I wanted him to tell me everything was ok. But I wouldn’t see him again, because I knew I wouldn’t make it out of there. Once I was in there, it was going to be my end. I’d die by their hands or my own. I’d do it so that people would become aware of what went on. I’d do it so I didn’t have to suffer, so they didn’t break me down into a shell of a human being. I’d do it for everyone there. I might not be very brave, but I was brave enough. I would not do it again.
The pastor finally smacked me in the face. “Compose yourself, Gavin!” There was a threat in his words, in his eyes. I slowed my struggle, but I still couldn’t breathe. The tears were still coming. I knew I was setting myself up for torture, but I couldn’t just give in. As soon as we crossed the threshold and the door closed behind us, I dropped to the ground, despite their efforts to keep me upright. I screamed with all the breath I could get.
We were in a lobby, one I’d never been in. There was a woman sitting behind a desk, gaping at our group in horror and shock. I was pretty sure she’d never seen anything like it, maybe a few sadly marched through the waiting room, but not even many of those. The last time I’d been there, I’d been taken in through a side door, but there was no driveway to it, and I was pretty sure they’d only taken me in the front doors to hide the scene I was making outside. That woman probably thought she was working for a reputable company and had no idea what was going on beyond that metal door behind her. There was an office for the front staff, and a hallway that probably led to bathrooms and a breakroom, but they never came in the back. With the last of my hope, I caught her eye. “Help me,” I gasped, “Please.”
She looked absolutely horrified, but the pastor shielded me from her view as soon as I spoke. With a little laugh, he said, “He’s just having a little crisis. Don’t worry, we’re going to get him all the help he needs.”
The hands digging into my arms squeezed hard in warning. They pulled me behind the desk, trying to keep me out of her sight. I caught her eye one more time between them, for a split second. Begging her with my own eyes. She looked at me, her eyes still wide and face ashen, but then I was pulled through the metal door and it closed loudly behind us. The pastor looked at me when it was shut, and if looks could kill, I’d definitely be dead. He didn’t say anything, though. They pulled me to an elevator.
I had no idea where they were taking me, because my room had been downstairs before. I was pretty sure it wasn’t a good thing that I was going somewhere different, because I would have walked out of my room and found a way outside, when I’d been too scared to do so last time. Once we were upstairs and I saw the heavy wooden doors with locks on the outside, I freaked out again. I dropped my weight and they all grunted as they struggled with me. We made it to the third door on the left and they shoved me inside, every single one of them as out of breath as I was.
The interior was similar to the rooms downstairs. A bed with a thin mattress, a pillow and blanket. A small round table, an overhead light that only they could control, and a bathroom with a toilet and sink. They made you take showers in the communal shower room. But it wasn’t a communal shower, because you were the only one showering while at least one of them stood watching you. For me, it was most often Kolders. And he’d done more than watch me.
I stumbled into the room and ended up sitting on the bed, because I was still trying to catch my breath, for a different reason than them. I was just trying to remember how to breathe. The pastor shook his head. “It’s a shame you had to come back, Gavin. You’ll obviously need regular therapy as well as conversion therapy.” I hated to think of what their other types of “therapy” would entail. “You’re going to leave here a different person this time. You’ll remain here as long as you aren’t making progress. No matter how long it takes. We can’t have you out there hurting yourself and others.”
Fuck that. Fuck them. Hurting people ? There was no one hurting when Nick and I were together. It was the opposite. It was love, happiness, safety. The only time I’d been happy since ending up there the first time. I was pretty sure Nick had been happy, too.
The pastor and the other two men left the room in a huff, but Kolders lingered. I closed my eyes and imagined that Nick was in front of me, telling me to breathe with him. I took a few breaths with imaginary Nick, trying to remember how his hands felt rubbing my arms, soothing me. Picturing his face and touch was enough to bring me back from the ledge, and I slowly opened my eyes. Kolders was looking at me. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t want you to make it up to me. I don’t want anything from you,” I spat out. I really wanted a cup of water, though. The taste of vomit was lingering, but I refused to ask him. I’d wash my mouth out in the sink when he left.
“You’ll change your mind,” he said, “Just like you did last time. You don’t have to worry about cheating on your boyfriend. He’ll move on without you before you can even think twice about it being wrong. He’ll think you left him, and he’ll be sad, but he’ll get over it quickly. He doesn’t need you. It was only ever you who needed him.”
I tried to tell myself he was just fucking with my head again, but wasn’t it the truth, really? I’d always been the pathetic one, the one he had to calm down, to wake from nightmares, to remind how to breathe. The one he had to save. And he would think I just left, since I’d talked about it enough. He’d never find that damn penny. All I’d done was give up my last link to him.
“Fuck you,” was all I said to Kolders, refusing to acknowledge that he was right. I fell back onto the bed, but I had a feeling he knew I was aware of the truth in his words. I just closed my eyes until I heard the door close and lock behind him.
◆◆◆
I wasn’t sure how long I remained on the bed in a daze, thinking about Nick, before the door opened again. I looked past my feet on the bed. The pastor was there, as well as Kolders and the other asshole that had always been there before. I didn’t really know him, but they called him Doctor. They’d threatened me with sedation when I struggled with them as a teenager, and I had a feeling that’s what he was there for. The pastor was carrying a Bible. I was surprised it hadn’t caught his hands on fire.
“Let’s get started,” he sighed with disappointment, “There’s a guard outside. He’ll be behind us and outside the door downstairs. If you give us any trouble, we’ll handle it one way or another, so you’re best off coming peacefully.” Kolders and the doctor took my arms and led me out of the room. I only caught a glimpse of the guard, but I heard him behind us as the pastor walked in front. I knew struggling would get me nowhere, and I was exhausted from the fight I’d put up earlier, so I walked with them. There was no one to call out to, no one in that part of the building who would ever help me.
I let out a sob when I saw the door again. The door of my nightmares. Fear and utter anguish reared its head again and I faltered in their grip, but they pulled me along, anyway.
The door closed behind us, only the pastor, the doctor, and Kolders in the room with me. I was aware the guard was still outside. The guards were always there. They always had been. I wasn’t sure how armed they were, but I knew they at least had batons and stun guns. I knew I couldn’t escape.
“Strip.” The pastor was holding a set of scrubs, just like they’d made me wear before. Like I was a patient, not a victim. But I knew now. I knew it with certainty. I was the victim. None of it was my fault. I could be happy out there. I could be with someone without pain and fear, someone who made me whole again. Someone who gave me good dreams and smiles. Someone who gave me life, the life they wanted to take away.
I unbuttoned the black shirt I’d bought with Nick when he helped me pick out clothes to wear to work. I hoped Jeff would give him my last paycheck. Being able to help him with his bills had been so important to me. I wished I could have helped him longer. I hoped he’d find someone soon, like Kolders told me he would. Someone who was worthy of him. Someone to hold, someone who made him smile. Maybe someone he didn’t have to remind how to breathe and talk down from panic every day. He deserved the world, and I hoped he knew I wanted it for him.
I stripped completely, because they wouldn’t have it any other way. They seemed to like it, always had. They were gawking at my tattoos though. That’s right. You like that? Is that a sin, too? I’m sure the one on my dick must be. Kolders eyes were zeroed in on that one. You like it, huh? I hope they notice. He blinked and caught himself before the others saw him looking.
The pastor just shook his head. “Well. I can see we have a long road ahead of us,” was all he said. They forced me onto the table and secured my wrists. The Bible landed on my forehead. I didn’t catch fire either, you bitch . “The power of Christ compels you.”