Ever chewed on his bottom lip before remembering Arsen didn’t like it. “I want to know.”
Arsen nodded then flopped his head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “He used to beat me and my mom all the time. I never fought back, but she did. I think she did it to keep him away from me. To take the focus off of me and put it on her so my punishments were less severe. They fought more than they didn’t, always about something different, but really all the same. Then, one day, there was a fight that didn’t end like the others. She ended up dead and he ended up in prison.”
Ever thought about all the times Jennika had beat him, had brought him to the brink where he’d hoped she would finally just kill him. But she had been too cruel for that. She had relished in his suffering. Still, there was always the chance she would go too far.
But she was dead.
“What made that fight different?” Ever asked.
Arsen looked at him thoughtfully. “Nothing. It started like most of their fights, over nothing important. Over my report card.”
Ever had heard the term, seen it in books, but was not entirely certain what that was. “What’s a report card?”
Arsen gave him a sad look that made his stomach dip. “It’s what they send to parents to tell them how their kids are doing in school.”
“Did you get a bad grade?”
Arsen’s laugh was bitter. “No. All As. He didn’t like that. He said I was trying to embarrass him. Make him look stupid. He said my mother and I were laughing at him for his lack of education.”
Ever knew what that was like. The trepidation. The walking on eggshells. It was like sharing space with a hungry tiger. You never knew where or when they would strike, but eventually, the urge to hunt would overwhelm them and you were always prey. It was that gnawing anxiety that was the worst. Almost more than the punishment itself.
“How old were you?” he asked.
Arsen sighed. “Eleven.”
Ever squeezed the hand he held. “Was your mom defending you?”
Arsen nodded. “Always. But he killed my mother to prove a point,” he said, voice dull. “Or maybe it was an accident.”
“An accident?”
Arsen let out another big breath.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Ever said.
Arsen shook his head. “Maybe it was a lesson that went too far. His gun was on the table where it always was. He took it and made me stand up, put it in my hand, tried to make me put my finger on the trigger and point it at her.”
Ever’s eyes widened. He couldn’t imagine pointing a gun at someone he loved. Not that he’d ever had someone to love, but he understood the notion of love.
“He told me to kill her or he’d kill me. But I couldn’t do it. I just…fought him, fought back, got out of his grip. That was what pissed him off. That I’d gotten away. My mother ran at him…and he shot her. And she was just…gone.”
“Gone…” Ever said.
Arsen nodded, still staring straight ahead. “During the day, I’m fine, but at night, my brain won’t let me forget. That is why people don’t sleep in my bed.”
“You let me sleep in your bed,” Ever said, frowning.
“I do. Yeah,” Arsen said, giving him a small smile.
Ever didn’t know what to do with that information, so he ignored it, inching closer to Arsen then wrapping his arms around Arsen’s much larger one, pressing his cheek to his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
Arsen looked down at him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Ever thought about it. Really thought about it. “It was because my arms were trapped. I don’t think I’d mind if I could just move my arms. It just made me think of something bad. I didn’t mind you on top of…me,” he finished in a whisper, his face hot.
“Something bad?” Arsen asked, pointedly ignoring Ever’s confession.
Ever nodded. “The last time Jennika sold me.”
