Chapter 35
I knock on the door. This feels so fucking weird, but I smile, waiting for him to answer. I knock again, wondering if he’s sleeping in. When there’s no answer, I try the door. It clicks open.
“Scott?” I shout from the doorway. There’s no answer, so I shout louder. I feel a little odd about just walking in now after everything, but then a dishevelled Steven appears at the top of the stairs in his boxer shorts.
“Fuck, dude, what’s with all the yelling?”
“Where’s Scott?”
“The fuck should I know?”
He turns and stalks back to his room. I step inside and head up to Scott’s room.
As I walk inside, he’s not there. His phone is on the side, which rings alarm bells.
He wouldn’t go anywhere without his phone.
I pick it up and type in his passcode; it’s been the same forever.
When his phone opens, I stare at the message.
Fucking Derren.
I slip his phone into my pocket and storm down the stairs.
My blood boils. I climb into the car, slamming the door and screeching away from the curb.
I’m seeing red, driving erratically, heading to Derren’s apartment.
I don’t know why or what I’m gonna do when I get there, but I can’t think straight right now.
I pull up outside and press the first button on the apartment building’s door, and a woman answers.
“Hello?”
Keeping my voice calm and void of emotion, I say, “Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to find my friend, Derren. I can’t remember what number he lives at.” I picked Scott up one night, so I know he lives in this building, but I never knew which apartment was his.
She sighs and tells me the number. Before she can hang up, I rush out, “Thank you, can you buzz me in?”
She doesn’t reply, but the buzzer sounds, and I push inside.
I stride up the stairs two at a time. When I reach his floor, there’s commotion coming from inside Derren’s apartment.
I take a breath to calm my racing heart, half expecting to find them together, rage filling every fibre of my being.
I don’t think we can come back from this if he chooses him again, but deep down, I know this is something more sinister.
I reach his door, press my ear to it, and hold my finger over the peephole, and I knock on the door.
“Delivery,” I yell. That’s when I hear it.
“Help.” I freeze.
“Delivery,” I shout a little louder this time, restraining the panic from spilling into my voice.
I take a step back, keeping my finger over the peephole.
I clench my fist and lift my leg, and the door slowly opens.
The chain rattles, and a face peers through the crack. He cries out when he sees me.
I kick the door, and it yanks against the chain. I step back and lift my leg higher, booting it again. Shouts from inside echo around the stairwell. As the wood splinters in the frame, the door flings open, and I push my way into the room.
Derren’s eyes widen when he jumps off Scott, whom he has pinned to the bed.
I take in Scott’s position, his friend holding him, his jeans and boxers pulled down.
His face red and bruised, tears streaming across his cheeks, his eyes terrified.
Derren jumps back, his dick swinging from the front of his unzipped jeans. And I see red.
I storm inside, and I pull back and throw my fist at Derren.
His eyes widen as I connect with his face.
The crunch echoes around the room. Blood pours from his nose as he grabs for it, his eyes streaming, and he drops to the floor.
I dive on top of him, grabbing his hair in my fist and ripping his head up.
I crash my fist into him again, and a weight hits my back.
I reach around, ripping at the back of his friend’s head, and throw him over my shoulder.
He lands with a thud, the wind leaving him as his back crashes to the floor.
I punch Derren again. His face is bloody, and his lip and cheek are split open. His nose has exploded across his face, his eyes roll back, and his head lolls to the side. His friend is groaning in front of me, and I stand.
Fury spread across my face as I turn on the other guy.
His hands raise, and I reach over and roll Scott over.
His shaky hand reaches mine as I pull him straight into my arms. With him safely behind me, we walk backwards.
I don’t take my eyes off the three bastards in the room. I keep Scott close as we step back.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, my glasses.” His voice shaky. There’s rustling as he scrambles to right himself.
I stare around the apartment, and I find them.
After rushing over and grabbing them, I hand them to him.
Multiple bruises are visible all over him.
He straightens his glasses on his face. I back through the door, turn, and tug him quickly down the stairs, pulling him through the building door and onto the pavement towards the car.
After opening the door for him, I rush around to the driver’s side, keeping my left eye on the apartment building as we peel away.
He stares at his hands the whole time, and my gaze keeps flicking to his, seeing more and more marks on his beautiful face.
He never looks up, never speaks, so I give him this moment to process everything that’s happened.
When I pull up outside his house, I turn to look at him, but he opens the door before silently climbing out. I get out to meet him, and I reach for his hand. It feels so small in mine, and I lead him towards the house. When we get inside and upstairs, Steven meets us on the landing.
“What the fuck happened?” he gasps, running towards us. He stops in front of us, hand outstretched as if he’s reaching for Scott, but then thinks better of it. His icy stare flicks to mine.
“Derren,” I bark out. Steven’s eyes widen at Scott’s battered face.
“I’m calling the police.” Steven turns towards his room, and I can’t think of anything other than getting Scott cleaned up.
“No,” he pleads, his gaze trained on the floor, but Steven and I stop in our tracks.
“Scott, you can’t let him get away with this, not again.” Steven rasps.
“No,” is all he says, and he turns away from us, and I gently place my fingers on his jaw. He winces, but his eyes flick up to mine.
“Hey.” I pull him into the bathroom. I cup Scott’s cheeks as I sit him on the toilet. “I need to take some pictures, okay? If Steven’s gonna call the police, I need to document your injuries before I clean you up.”
“No, Killian. I just want to forget it ever happened… The way you left him, I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
“Let me just take some pics for evidence then, in case it all goes to shit, and he makes a statement.”
He gives me the tiniest of nods. “Scott, did they…” For their sake, I hope they didn’t rape him. That I got there in time. If they did, I will be finishing off what I started.
He shakes his head but doesn’t look at me as I pull out my phone, taking multiple photos, tilting his face so I can see every angle. His eyes never meet mine, always staring away. Then, I take a video, moving around his face, zooming in on all his injuries.
I lean in and give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. He tenses, flinching a little, but still doesn’t meet my gaze. I pull the first-aid kit from under the sink and place it on the counter.
“Don’t worry, you’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” I smile at him while dabbing at his face, his hands wrapped around each other in his lap. He gives me a tight-lipped smile. But his eyes can’t seem to meet mine. They’re filled with tears, puffy and swollen.
“Hey. You’re okay.” I whisper.
“Are we?” His lip trembles, and his eyes flood. Tears stream down his bruised cheeks.
I lift his chin with my fingers. “Me and you?” I smile. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
A sob breaks out from him. “I went out to speak to him. For closure. If I’d just…”
“No!” I bring his head up to look at me again. “Don’t do that. This isn’t on you. Whatever happened, none of this is your fault.” I stroke my thumb over his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“He messaged me, asking me to go outside to talk. I wanted to get closure. When I got to the car, he was drunk. I turned away to come inside to get him an Uber, but they jumped me, grabbed me from behind. I didn’t even know they were with him.
They stuffed me in the boot and took me to Derren’s.
” That’s when the sobs come out. The tears stream, and his body shudders.
“They were gonna rape me.” His gaze drops to his hands.
“Scott, it won’t change how I feel about you, but did they? Did they touch you?” My voice is barely retaining its resolve.
“No, it was close. If you hadn’t got there when you did… If you hadn’t come for me, Killian, he was so close.”
I kneel in front of him, wrapping him in my arms, and I hold him.
His hands come up and twist in my T-shirt.
He lets it all out as his sobs echo around the bathroom, and I hold him tighter than before.
I stroke his back and tell him everything’s going to be all right.
I won’t let anything happen to him ever again.
When the sobs die down, he stutters out, “They hit me, cut me, but you got there in time, Killian. If you hadn’t come for me,” he cries again.
“Hey.” I embrace him, like he might vanish if I don’t hold him together, pulling him into my chest. “I’ll always come for you, Nerd. Always.”
He hugs his arms around me, and I stand, pulling him against me.
When I lead him into his bedroom, the cold coffee and pastries are abandoned on the dresser next to his phone.
He glances at them as he walks past, climbing onto the bed.
I untie his shoes, tugging them off and tossing them into the corner of the room.
I walk over to the dresser, grab him some PJs, and throw them on the bed.
“I can step outside while you change.”
He shakes his head and reaches out, gripping my wrist, his eyes glassy as his bottom lip quivers.
He can’t bring himself to look at me, but I won’t leave him.
He takes his clothes off and lets me help him step into his PJs.
His eyes flick to mine. I try not to linger on the bruising across his torso.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze meets mine for a split second, and then he looks away again. I wrap my arms around him, and he breaks down. His body shakes in my arms, and I hold him.
“He won’t lay a hand on you ever again. You need to rest. I’ll go make us a drink.”
His hand reaches out. “Don’t go.” I place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m not leaving the house. I’ll be right back.” He nods. His face is swollen, his eyes red-rimmed. I walk away before I hit something. After storming down the stairs and straight into the kitchen, I lean on the worktop.
“You good?” Steven rests his hand on my back, and I nod.
“I’m gonna fucking kill that cunt.”
“Just breathe, mate.”
“I kicked the door in and laid him out; he could press charges.”
“Don’t worry about that. Scott will press charges if he does. Then it will be self-defence, or whatever. We won’t let him get away with it this time.” I turn, and he stares at me. “Thanks for going after him.”
I smile and nod as I turn and flick the kettle on, taking a minute to breathe.
When I take our coffee upstairs, Scott is lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I place the drinks down on the bedside table. “Hey.” He startles and looks at me.
Smiling at him, I pull the covers back and slide into bed beside him.
With my arm under his head and him pulled towards me, I wrap my arms around him.
He screws his fists into my T-shirt, tugging it tighter against him.
He rubs his face into my chest, but we don’t speak.
I pepper kisses on his forehead and stroke a hand down the back of his head.
I wait until his breathing evens out and his hand relaxes against my top. Smiling, I kiss his hair.
“Sleep, beautiful, I’m going nowhere.”