Bas headed back to the hotel, thinking about the events of the morning. It made sense. People with mental illnesses clung to the few others they let in with an almost stalker-like intensity. Bas had done it himself for years until that moment when his world shattered and he’d been forced to realize how alone he was. Nothing like being beaten and raped in a school bathroom to change a man’s perspective. He shuddered at the memory. Acknowledge it happened and move on, his therapist always told him. He was not one event, but a sum of all of them.Hedecided who he was, not his past.
He wondered vaguely how long it would take before Hank would do something to land himself in jail for life. Everyone had encouraged Bas to file charges since all the evidence of his attack was on file with the police, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Why, he hadn’t yet worked out with his own therapist. Probably some sort of denial that still bounced around in his head. Filing charges would make it more real. Until then, he could pretend it didn’t happen. And that was only part of it. He knew the statistics on rape, how few were actually convicted while the one attacked was dragged through the mud. He hadn’t wanted to go through all that. Still didn’t. But couldn’t help but feel guilty sometimes. What if Hank attacked someone else? Or his violence escalated like Nate’s had? He shuddered. He was just as messed up in the head as Dane, only in a different way.
Trust. That was Bas’s big issue. He only trusted a handful of people. And earning that trust was hard. Adam, Adam’s parents, Ru, Tommy, and his grandmother were about all that had it. Now that Gran was gone, Bas found himself in a harder place. He was lonely and standing on the edge of a panic attack or major sweep of depression that would push him over the edge. He knew he should tell someone. He would call his therapist when he got home, who would in turn tell him to confide in a friend and make sure he wasn’t alone until he could get home. No one could help him if he didn’t reach out.
He sighed as he entered the hotel room. Alone in California. He should have been thrilled. It was the end of March back home, and Minnesota was buried in snow and cold. But he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home, check on Gran’s house, and hide in the sanctuary of his room. There would be no Gran waiting for him anymore. He’d have to go visit her remains, a somber thought he didn’t want to dwell on.
His phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered after a second, expecting it to be Tommy.
“Sebastian?” It was Mr. Corbin, Adam’s dad.
“Oh, hey, Mr. C. How are you?”
“I’m good, Sebastian. I know you’re in California helping a friend. But I promised the police I would call you personally about this. Told them it would be better if you heard from someone you know.”
Police?Bas’s stomach lurched.
“Tell me what?”
“Your Gran’s house has been vandalized. Some graffiti painted on the garage. Looks like they tried to get into the garage too, but failed. One of your neighbors called the police.”
“Graffiti?” Bas had a feeling he knew exactly what sort of graffiti it was. “Let me get a flight back. I’ll be home in a few hours.”
“No, no. Stay with your friends. We’ll get it cleaned up.”
“I can’t let you do that, Mr. C. It’s nice of you and all, but it’s Gran’s place and my home. I was going to come home today anyway. There’s nothing else I can do here. Plus, I think I sort of need more time.”To mourn her passing and make a new normal without her in my life.He swallowed back a lump in his throat. He really hadn’t had the time to mourn, had he?
“Can you pick me up at the airport if I send you my flight info?”
“Of course. I’ll grab some supplies from the hardware store to help get this mess cleaned up. And I have a contractor friend who will come out at no charge and review the damage to the door. If it’s something that needs repair or replacement, we can help you work out the details with your insurance.”
“Thanks, Mr. C. I’ll text you my flight info. See you soon.”
“Take care, Sebastian.”
Bas hung up and threw himself into a chair as he dialed the airline to change his flight. He’d never unpacked, so it wouldn’t take him any time to check out and get to the airport. He didn’t realize he was crying until he got in the cab and the driver handed him a stack of tissues. So much for not smearing his makeup.
