Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
DILLON
I rolled the empty bottle between my fingers, the hollow weight of it echoing the feeling inside me. The smoldering flames of the fire pit licked into the night sky, illuminating a small part of the deck from the darkness beyond it. The party raged around me, people having the time of their lives, drinking, laughing. Fucking. I’d seen one too many poorly executed blow jobs tonight, and I needed to bleach my fucking eyes. The scent of pot hung in the air, and for the first time in my life, I considered taking a joint and numbing the pain infecting me.
A self-deprecating laugh clawed its way up my throat, making a group of girls that were smoking jump out of their skin. A malicious smirk lifted my lips as I enjoyed their fear. It was better than drowning in my self hatred. My head rolled on my shoulders, and I stared up at the ominous blackness above me, the empty bottle slipping from my fingers and clattering on the deck below.
I needed another fucking drink. “Hey, kid.” I grabbed the sleeve of some guy walking past me, pulling him to a stop.
“What the fu…” He lost his voice when he caught sight of me. “H-Hargraves?” he squeaked in question, even though he knew who I was.
“Yup, that’s me.” I tried to smile but it felt awkward. I didn’t make small talk to anyone, if I could help it. “Get me a bottle of tequila.” The girl he was with huffed and stomped her foot. “What?!” I snapped.
“N-nothing.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked at the guy she was with. “Let’s just get it for him, k?” The guy nodded and dragged her into the house.
I threw another couple of logs into the fire pit. The flames were almost non-existent now, and it made me realize how cold it was. I shoved my hands into the pocket of my hoodie and continued to stare at the black expanse above my head, wishing the incessant noise around me would fade away, but I was never that lucky.
“H-Hargraves?” My head lolled to the side, and I peeled my eyes open. Fuck! When had they closed? The kid stood there shaking, arm outstretched, bottle of tequila in hand. “I got it.”
I snatched the bottle off him, brought it to my lips and took a long swig. The burn was just what I needed. The kid was still standing there, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “What?” I snapped.
“I-I?—”
“Yooou what? Just spit it the fuck out, will ya? I haven’t got all day to wait on you!”
“I was wondering if.” He licked his lips and pulled his shoulders back. I rolled my eyes, willing his bumbling to be over. “If you could, y’know, say hi to me if you see me around?”
I snorted. This kid was so ordinary he’d blend into a beige wall if he stood still for too long. I ground my teeth. “Fuck off!” I barked, and he scampered off like I’d thrown a grenade at him. “Stupid little prick.”
The liquid in the bottle glinted in the moving light of the flames as if to remind me this bottle was in fact not empty and that it needed drinking. There was only so much I could process at the moment. All I wanted was to chase oblivion and forget tonight ever happened. I lifted the bottle to my lips and swallowed down one burning mouthful after the next until my lungs screamed at me to take a breath.
As the world around me blurred, my racing heart calmed and a soothing numbness spread through my veins. My eyes felt heavy as the exhaustion I spent every day ignoring grew stronger.
“What the fuck happened?” McCormack said as he dropped down in a seat opposite me. I rolled my eyes and brought the bottle back to my lips.
“Cap, seriously, who was that kid?” My head rolled in the direction of Vieck’s voice as he took the chair next to me. I shrugged and carried on drinking.
“Daisy said he was a freshman,” Stevens muttered, loading more logs onto the fire that had all but burned out. “Said you made him cry?”
Buchanan laughed, passing out beers to the guys before plopping down next to me. “Seriously, Cap, what the fuck?”
“Nothin’,” I grunted.
“Michelle also told me that she saw Elise running down the stairs in tears.” Stevens smirked and tilted his head, watching me too closely for my liking. “What did she do?”
“Or didn’t, more to the point.” I snorted.
“She get freaked out over that whopper you’re packing?” Vieck raised his bottle at me before taking a drink.
“Somethin’ like that.” I tipped my head and closed my eyes, done with this conversation already.
“Seriously though, Dillon.” My eyes flew open as I glared at Buchanan. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “What happened with the kid?”
“Yeah! Everyone is talking about you going postal on him,” Stevens added.
I heaved a sigh. “Nothin’, I told ya.”
“Cut the shit, Cap.” McCormack leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “This isn’t like you.” I grunted, making him chuckle. “I know you’re a prickly fucker, but this?” He waved his hand toward the house. “This was something else, right? Something personal?”
I couldn’t hide my wince even if I tried. I wedged the now half-empty bottle of tequila between my legs and carded my hands through my hair. “It doesn’t matter.” I sighed.
“It does, man,” Stevens said. “You know we’re here for you, right?”
“We got your back, Cap!” Vieck agreed.
“We’re a team!” McCormack nodded.
“Fuck off, all of you.” I took another swig of the burning liquid, and the world started to move all on its own.
“No,” Buchanan said, his tone brokering no argument. “You tell us what the hell that was all about, and let us help you for once.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to order the thoughts and feelings churning around in my mind. I couldn’t tell them the truth—that I loved and hated that boy in equal measure. That he knew a secret about me no one else knew—one that would most likely lose me my place on the team. Coach had never outrightly said anything against queer players, but there was enough undertone in his commentary to know he wasn’t an ally in any form, and the whole reason I was here would be ripped away from me in an instant. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
I might be an unsociable ass and generally hate everyone, but these guys were more like family to me. We’d all arrived as naive freshmen, and we’d partied hard and played harder to get where we are today. So I owed them something, some semblance of the truth. But not the whole truth.
“I know him from back home.”
“Called it,” Stevens whooped.
“Shut up.” Vieck laughed and whacked him around the head. “He’ll never tell us if you keep butting in.”
I cleared my throat; it felt thick and dry. A bead of sweat ran down the back of my neck, even though I felt cold to the bone. “He… his dad.” Fuck. I raised the shaky bottle to my lips and swallowed down the liquid fire. Normally, cheap-ass drinks get better the more you drink, but this paint stripper only got worse. My fingers and toes started to feel numb as the alcohol spread through my body. “His dad beat me up when I was a freshman, broke my arm and stuff. I ended up in the hospital for the weekend while they set the cast and monitored me for concussion.”
I looked around at the guys. Each and every one of their faces wore the same expression. Complete and utter shock, disbelief, and anger.
“He fucking WHAT?” Buchanan bellowed, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.
“Yup he told his old man I was bullying him.” Lie. “That he was afraid to go to school.” Lie. “That I’d threatened to break his legs.” Lies! All of it—fucking lies. I was the lowest of the low. Even if I begged on my knees, Jamie would never forgive me once he found out the truth.
“That fucking little shit needs to pay.” McCormack growled. He’s always had a short temper—anything could set him off. You never knew if the guy was going to Hulk out on you at any moment. If that’s what you think he’s like, I dread to think what you think of yourself.
“What’s the plan, Cap?” Vieck asked, wringing his hands together.
“Shit like that can’t go unpunished,” Stevens added.
“We make him pay. Fuck him over so badly he leaves.”
“Whoop! That’s the spirit, Cap.” Buchanan slaps me on the back. He takes the empty bottle of tequila and hands me an ice-cold bottle of water.
“What’s his name?” Stevens inquiries. “I’ll get my girl to look at his file and find out everything there is to know about him.”
“Sounds good.” My hands shook, and acid churned in my stomach, making me feel like I was going to puke. “Jamie Abernathy.”
“Consider it done.” Stevens nodded at me before sitting back in his chair and kicking his legs out.
I took a swig of water. The icy liquid soothed my sore throat but did nothing to stop the emotion burning the back of my eyes. I tipped my head backward and allowed my eyes to fall closed as the guys talked about their conquests for the night. I chose to ignore them in favor of the chaos in my mind.
There were four days etched into my mind that I could never forget, and they all centered around one blond-haired blue-eyed boy. They had each changed me in some way and molded me into who I was today, for better or worse.
Sweat dripped down my face as I arrived home from my morning run, my soaked top clinging to my skin. The early morning was already a slave to the mid-summer heat. There wasn’t a cloud in the vast expanse of blue that made up the sky.
I sat down on the steps that lead to the front porch, my arms braced on my legs, my head hanging as I sucked in deep breaths. I prayed the gentle breeze would pick up and help cool me down, but it seemed I was out of luck. Mom and Dad were already gone for the day—Mom to the library where she’d work till noon, and Dad to the factory. It was a new job, and he hated it with a passion, but he’d been sacked from his last one. I wasn’t sure why; I just knew he was pissed over it and had started to drink heavily. It made things super uncomfortable at home, so I did everything I could to stay out of his way. That included getting up at six every morning and going for a run before he got up.
The sound of an engine rumbled down the road, growing louder until it came to a sudden stop. The breaks squealed, making me wince at the high-pitched whine. I pulled my top off and used it to mop my face. My head snapped up when a car door slammed, and a large figure walked toward me. It was hard to see who it was through the hazy glare of the sun.
“Dillon,” Mr. Abernathy growled.
I stood up quickly. “Mornin’, Mr. Abernathy. Dad’s not here right now. He’s at work.”
“I know that, kid,” he spat. He towered over me even though I stood on the second step, and at fifteen, I wasn’t small. I was pushing five-eleven and had finally started building some decent muscle with all the football practice I did.
“I’ll let them know you stopped by,” I said and turned to head toward the house. My dog, Buster, whined and scratched at the door.
“No.” Before I knew what was happening, his hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me down the steps. My legs gave way underneath me, and I fell on the grass at Mr. Abernathy’s feet. “Where the fuck is he?”
I pushed myself up and got to my feet. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I crossed my arms and stared into his red-rimmed, bloodshot gray eyes. The volatile energy surrounding him made me take a step back.
“Of course, you know!” He growled, taking a step toward me, forcing me to back up again. “You two are practically joined at the hip. Don’t lie to me, Dillon. Where the fuck is my son?” Spit hit me in the face as he sneered down at me.
“I told you, I don’t know.” I didn’t, and it killed me. I’d gone from the biggest high of my life to rock bottom in less than twenty-four hours and now this. My first kiss with Jamie was life altering. Earth shattering. For the first time in forever, something felt right, perfect even. But he had to leave to get home to his Mom as it was his birthday before we could talk about it. I wanted to be his boyfriend, even if we couldn’t be out at school. He stole my heart the moment his lips touched mine.
I got up extra early the following day and walked to his house. It was only fifteen minutes from mine, less if you used the shortcut. But when I got there, everything changed. I knocked on his window like I did most mornings. Usually, he’d slide open the screen and let me in, but that day, nothing. I walked to the back door and knocked again, and nothing.
I’d tried the handle, expecting it to be locked, but the door opened. I slipped in, making my way down to his room, and gently pushed the door open so it wouldn’t squeak. But his bed was empty. My stomach fell through my feet when I noticed his closet and drawers were open, mostly empty with a few clothes hanging out of them. His room looked like it had been ransacked.
I quickly made my way through the house, and every room was the same. It was like someone had ripped open every door and trashed every room. There was a dark stain on the kitchen floor.
I left twenty minutes later, tears streaming down my face, and my heart irrevocably broken. The car had gone. Jamie had gone. He’d left and not told me. Every one of my dreams had been ripped to pieces.
“I told you, sir.” I sucked in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him in five days.”
Mr. Abernathy scoffed in disbelief. “You’re lying to me.” He stepped forward, and I edged up another step, closer to the house. My heart thundered in my chest, thrashing against my rib cage.
“I-I’m not.” I licked my lips, tasting salty sweat as it continued to drip down my face. My fight or flight instinct kicked in, and adrenaline surged through my veins. I needed to get out of here. The scent of alcohol surrounded Mr. Abernathy, and his wife beater was soaked through with sweat as he vibrated with rage in front of me.
Before I could blink, his hand wrapped around my throat, and he pinned me to the front door. His face so close to mine, his nose brushed my cheek as he spat, “Tell me where that little faggot is.” The blood in my veins turned to ice as I froze in his hand. He tilted his head as he regarded me. “You didn’t know?” His voice was laced with suspicion.
I’d never told anyone I was gay, not even Jamie. But he knew, without me ever having to say a word. “N-n-no.”
“Well,” he said, spitting at my feet. “I wanna leave a message for that little faggot with you.”
Confusion washed over me, but I nodded as much as his grip would allow. “O-okay,” I rasped.
I hadn’t even blinked before his fist crashed into my temple. The world went black. Pain ricocheted through me at multiple impact points like I’d been shot several times. The pain stole the air from my lungs as tears spilled down my cheeks. “Fucking nancy boy.” Mr. Abernathy growled as I fell to the floor.
I curled up into the fetal position as he kicked my stomach. I wrapped my arms around my legs and tucked my head, trying to shield my organs. His steel-toe capped boots relentlessly kicked into me as he yelled profanities at me. The pain made blood and bile pool in my mouth. Every breath was excruciating as agony became the only thing I knew.
I thought it was bad when he kicked my stomach, but it was nothing compared to the moment he stomped down on my throwing arm. White-hot pain shot through my bone as it cracked. The sound echoed around me before I passed out. For a few blissful seconds, the world was silent.
My head was wrenched up off the floor by my hair. Mr. Abernathy grabbed my face, his fingers and thumb pushing my jaw open. His arm shook with his unrestrained anger as he bellowed at me, “I will fucking kill him. Make sure you tell him that. No son of mine will live to be a fucking faggot.”