“Is this a problem… for us?”
This right here was why Rue respected Kendrick. He never shied away from tough subjects. In the past two weeks, Rue had come to appreciate Kendrick’s bluntness. It prevented barriers being built through miscommunication. Monty was very similar to Kendrick in his approach, and Rue had to question why he found it attractive in both men when he wasn’t like that. When talking was so difficult for him, why would they want someone like him?
Stunted?
Hiding?
“Why do you want someone like me?” he blurted out in frustration at his own lack, his gaze fixed on the tiles in front of him, tension holding him still.
“Strong, beautiful, caring, passionate… loving. Why wouldn’t I want someone like that?”
Rue swung around, chest heaving at the raw honesty, water flicking everywhere as he kept some distance between them. The shower stall was easily big enough for three. Just then, he needed space. He desperately wanted to believe Kendrick. To let the man carry his burden, if only for a moment. Only he couldn’t.
Their gazes held, and Rue searched for answers. The frightened child he’d been sat in the center of him, forcing him back from the cliff edge he dangled on when Kendrick showed him his generous heart once more.
Would Kendrick still feel compassion towards him when he knew he’d done nothing to protect his family from being slaughtered? When he was the sole reason they’d lost their lives?
Rue didn’t think so. He believed that if he told anyone, then the world as he knew it would disappear. Popi and Dad would disown him. They were good people. The best. Rue had worked hard to match their goodness, he had. Except, a part of him remained sure that the secret he carried would destroy everything.
Kendrick took hold of his jaw in a firm grip, his brows tugging together. “What is going on in your head? I can see your pain. Let me understand, please, so I can help. I want to help.”
A violent shudder ran through him at Kendrick’s anguish. “I-I… It’s… fuck, I don’t know how to do this.”
Kendrick kissed him softly. The merest touch of lips that held such hope. “I do. Monty does. Let us show you.”
“Why?” he questioned in pain, his eyes aching as they blurred. “Why, when I’m not worth it?”
“You are.”
“You don’t know what I did,” he whispered brokenly, his heart squeezed hard enough by the guilt, he couldn’t catch his breath. His eyelids dipped to hide his shame.
“Look at me, Rue.” The commanding voice was the same one he used in the bedroom, and Rue obeyed. “Tell me what’s hurting you.”
Softer, yet no less commanding. Rue released a sharp exhale, and words tumbled out of his mouth like a shaken bottle of soda. The words spewed out of him.
“I got my parents and brother killed.” He tasted salt on his lips, only then realizing he was crying. “Wade was five, defenceless, and I did nothing! You hear me? I did nothing to prevent it. It’s all my fault. My existence caused the sweetest boy to be murdered, and I did nothing.”
The words bounced off the tiles as he bellowed at the grief tearing him apart. Kendrick wrapped his enormous arms around him, surrounding him in his warmth. Rue fought to escape, mewling like a broken child.
“I got you. I got you…” On and on Kendrick repeated the words, his arms never letting go, squeezing and forcing him to still. The fight drained from him, and he collapsed against Kendrick, shaking violently, each gut-wrenching sob that tore from his throat purging the pain trapped inside.
“What on earth…” Monty’s voice faded away, and Rue didn’t have the strength to determine if it was him crying or possibly Kendrick’s expression that stopped Monty speaking.
“Can you grab a couple of the bath sheets for me?”
The shower shut off, and the steam cleared with the door open. Kendrick murmured softly to him, but Rue heard nothing above the blood rushing in his head at having opened a valve, releasing all the pressure. Groggy and with a woolly head, his mind shut down and, much like a child, he let himself be guided, too hollowed out to do more.
Moving sluggishly, he barely registered the fluffy cotton draped over his shoulders. The scent of freshly laundered towels came as both men dried him where he stood, the tears continuing to drip off his cheeks and chin.
He closed his eyes so they couldn’t see his shame as he perched on the end of the bed, directed by Kendrick.
“No, Rue. Don’t shut us out, please.” Gentle hands touched his face, stroking away the tears as he blinked blurry eyes at Kendrick, bent at the knee. “If you do that, you’re telling us you don’t want what we’re building here. Is that the case? If so, this stops now because my heart is already invested. Do you understand?” The tremor in Kendrick’s voice made it very clear just how serious he was.
Rue dashed the back of his hand across his eyes, regrouping impossible with how exposed he felt. “I’ve n-never s-shared my s-secret witha-anyone.”
If that didn’t reveal how serious Rue was about these two men, nothing would.
“Anyone?” gasped Kendrick.
