Chapter 32 #2
The major issue with meetings was that there wasn’t always one available. It was eleven at night, and the next one was at six in the morning on the other side of the city. I didn’t know if I’d make it that far. I didn’t know if I had the willpower. The urges were so strong.
I imagined myself getting out of bed, sneaking around the house as I put clothes on, sliding my feet into my shoes, and walking.
I’d walk to the subway and meet up with Kenny, who always had the best vodka a man could trade for.
I’d give him something. Anything. Then he’d bless me with a full bottle. It’d be warm, but I wouldn’t care.
I’d savor it. I knew I would. I’d savor the way it coated my insides with a shield of protection from all the bad and the scary.
I knew all too well how easy it’d be to forget, too.
If done right, I could forget the things that’d happened with a bottle and a half.
I’d wake up the next morning, covered in blood and bruises, and not remember how they’d gotten there.
So easy. It’d be so easy.
I opened my eyes again, having abandoned my phone to daydream about sneaking a drink. I could just make out the ceiling, staring at it as I thought. I thought about that night when I’d packed my shit and left.
The day I’d called my mom, and she’d told me the news that’d started it all.
The first night when I was fourteen.
The first time Thompson had touched me.
My first drink mixed with my last, and the way Callum’s face had looked when he’d first found me at Driftwood. For the first time since leaving the hospital, loving Callum wasn’t enough to keep me sober, and that rocked my entire fucking world in the worst way possible.
It started as a small pain in my chest, gradually getting bigger until it was a burning in my eyes. I clutched the sheets beneath me with my fists. I was spiraling.
I was crying. I was shaking the bed with how hard I was crying. I couldn’t make my legs move. I couldn’t get myself to stop. I was so overwhelmed and consumed with pain.
“Tobi?” Callum’s voice was thick and deep, laced with sleep. “Baby doll, you okay?”
No. No. No. No.
No, I wasn’t okay. No, I wasn’t a good person. No, I wasn’t strong, and I wasn’t even feeling guilty, and that was the most dangerous part of it all.
“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay.” Callum scooted closer, not touching me, but almost. “I’m right here. What’s going on?”
I gasped between soft cries, my throat and chest convulsing. I couldn’t get a deep breath in.
“I’m going to touch your arm, okay? Just stick with me.” His palm covered my upper arm, rubbing gently over my skin. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re not alone. Talk to me.”
Not alone. I wasn’t alone. Did I not deserve to be alone, though?
Through a sniffle and a whimper, I did just as he’d said. I wasn’t prepared for what came out of my mouth, but there was no stopping it. “I-I have a brother.”
Callum’s hand stopped on my arm, and I wanted to tell him not to. I wanted to tell him to never stop. To never leave me, though that wouldn’t be fair because I’d left him. Hypocrite.
It only took him a second to start back up, whispering to me. “Okay. I don’t think I knew this.”
I kept my gaze on the ceiling, trying to get my breathing under control.
“Well, a stepbrother. Mom got married again right after camp.” I hiccupped through a sob.
“They called us brothers, though. ‘Cause we were so close. He was older. Fun. I-I trusted him. I liked him. I’d just gone through all that shit with Thompson and Crew, and it felt like I had a new best friend.”
Callum came in closer, pushing his arm beneath my head. I knew he wanted to hold me but was hesitant. I would’ve been, too.
“He was nice. Too nice. Thompson nice. But I didn’t think anythin’ of it ‘cause he was my brother, you know? But then he started playin’ this game with me. A bad one. A really bad one.”
“Tobi.” Callum’s voice cracked. “No, don’t tell me—”
“He was the second person to ever hurt me like Thompson did. But nothin’ happened with Thompson, so why would something happen with Mason?”
“Mason. You’ve mentioned him.”
I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall from them.
They were cold. So fucking cold. “Yeah. Thompson taught me what to expect, and Mason taught me to accept it. I learned it didn’t matter.
I never told no one. Never even told my mom.
It happened for a long time. Until he was eighteen and went off to the army. ”
“You’ve never told anyone?”
“Only me, you, and Mason know what happened now. When he went off to the army, I thought I was safe. He jumped from station to station, never comin’ home. Not even when Mom divorced his dad.”
Callum pressed his forehead against my shoulder, taking in a shuddering breath. “You’ve just held it in all this time?”
“What else was I gonna do? Tell someone? And for what?” I sniffled. “It wouldn’t have made no difference. It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“How could so many people fail you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was on purpose. Maybe I was never meant to have justice.”
He shook his head. “No. No, everyone deserves justice. No one deserves to hold all of that in like that.”
But I had. For almost twenty years. “Remember the day I called my mom about Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, I do. You left not too long after.”
“She told me Mason was comin’ home. He’d be there at Thanksgiving, even though he wasn’t a part of the family no more. She said he told her he was excited to see me. Excited to play that game with me we used to play when we were young.”
“Oh, my God,” he whispered.
I turned my head, pressing my nose into his hair.
“I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I was too happy with you. It was inevitable.
And it did. The shoe did drop. And the shoe was fucking horrific, and it reminded me of all the bad things and the horrible people and the awful, horrible things I’d had to do.
” I gripped the back of Callum’s neck, craving the warmth of him.
Needing to feel his pulse beneath my skin.
“I ran. I ran from my past. I ran from the good. I ran from the bad, and I ran straight to a new bad without even realizing it. I put myself back in the cycle, Cal. I did that to myself because I thought it was all I’d ever deserve.
Thompson was the first, Mason was the second, but the cycle kept going, and things kept happening, and all I thought I was good for was violence.
Misfortune. A life not even worth living. ”
Callum lifted onto his arm, looking down at me.
His lower lip was trembling as he cradled my face with one hand, his eyes searching all over.
“No, baby. You were always worth so much more than that. They were in the wrong. You didn’t have to punish yourself for something they did.
You are my everything. My everything good.
My everything perfect. You are the love of my life.
You were then, and you are now, and I promise.
Fucking promise,” he pressed his forehead against mine.
“That I’ll fight the bad with you. I promise I’ll fight the demons.
I promise to show you what you deserve because you deserve the entire universe and so much more.
If I could give you anything, I’d give you everything, and I’d fucking murder everyone who ever treated you differently. ”
He loved me, didn’t he? He really loved me. He loved me so much that he didn’t cringe away from the bad. He loved me so deeply that he’d rather cradle my face and tell me that than let me suffer alone. He loved me just as I loved him. “I know. I trust you.”
“I feel so honored to have that trust.”
“Thank you for loving me.”
“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever fucking done, Tobias Weaver. Loving you completes me. Not loving you was never an option.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, touching my nose to his as I whispered. “I want to drink.”
“I know.”
“I thought about it all day. I thought about getting up and going out to get some.”
“I understand.”
“Thinking about you almost wasn’t enough.”
“It’s okay, baby doll.”
I swallowed past the sob in my throat begging to come out. “I want to drink so fucking bad. I want to go back in time and tell my mom what happened. I want to change the past.”
Callum swung his legs over my hips, sitting on top of me. He stared down at me again, holding my face with both hands. “I wish we could. I wish we could change the past, but we can’t. What can we do? We can be here. Together. With each other. You’re safe with me, Tobes. You’re safe with my heart.”
My breath got caught in my throat as I looked up at him. He was telling the truth. Nothing but the truth. He loved me then. He loved me now. He loved me still. “I want to drink so bad, and I’m so fucking scared.”
“Then kiss me instead. If drinking helps with the past, kiss me in the present.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me. His lips tasted sweeter than alcohol ever could. There was no burn. There was no bite. There was no sting. It was numbing, but in a soul kind of way. A weightless way. Like a feather in the wind, I drifted to him.
I kissed him until he was the only thing I wanted instead of vodka. I kissed him until my chin hurt from his beard rubbing against it. I kissed him until I could remember where I was and why I was there.
When I pulled away, I didn’t leave much room between us. I whispered so as to not disrupt the wind carrying my feather. “I want to see my mom. I think I want to tell her. I think I want to show her that I’m sober.”
“I think that’s a great idea, baby doll. I think that’s a really great idea.”
I kissed him again, this time not to curb a craving for alcohol, but to curb my desperate need to feel him. To feel the proof that he existed in my world. Just as I was his everything, he was mine. And as long as I had everything, there was nothing else to lose.