“Yes, I can’t fucking believe this. He hurt you, too? Why would you even want to be with me? And your friends? How can they stand me?” He buried his face in the collar of his borrowed coat and his shoulders heaved.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him. “You don’t hate me? Are you sure?”
Angel nodded and poked his head back up out of the fabric. “He kept himself in the chair. He wouldn’t do anything he was supposed to after the accident. He was supposed to go to physical therapy. He was supposed to go to regular therapy for his—”Angel wiggled his hand out to tap his head. “He was supposed to go get surgery. He did nothing. None of it. He wouldn’t listen to Mom. And I couldn’t make him. I was fucking stuck.” He stumbled back a step, and my gut dropped. I lunged forward and grabbed the front of my coat to steady him.
“I love you,” I blurted. It was the wrong time. Everything was wrong, but he stopped and stared up at me, his golden brown eyes glittering as sunshine poked out between the clouds for a moment and set the world ablaze in a sparkle of diamonds, fuzzy as a dream. People were going well around us on the sidewalk leaving us in a world of our own. Nothing seemed real, except for him. The sun slid back behind the clouds and I had to blink the dazzle away. Everything was back to normal, except the adoration that shined on Angel’s face.
“How?”
“I just do. Can we go home? I know I was going to go to work, but let’s go home. Do you still trust me?”
He nodded. “How can you trustme, knowing…. I’ve always worried I’d end up like him someday.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore. If he punched me, oh well. I scooped him close in a hug. “No. You’re my cutie. Let me take you home, little brother?”
He nodded and clung, and when we finally broke apart to walk to my car he pressed tight to my side. The trip home blinked past because I was so stuck in my head. In the driveway, Angel hopped out fast and shot toward the front door, and I considered it a win that he wasn’t booking for the nearest bus stop. He left the door hanging open, and when I got inside carrying his coat, I found he’d thrown mine on the floor and was pacing across the living room carpet in his grimy sneakers. I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad. I closed and locked the door but didn’t go farther into the house.
“You hurt him. You said yourself you hurt him. That does scare me.” He had his cast cradled in his good hand, and he spun so fast his tie flapped behind him as he turned the other direction. “Not enough that I want to leave, but it scares me.” His shoulders curled in, and I wanted to scream because I had no idea how to fix this.
“He used to corner me and take shots at me.”
Angel shuddered. “I didn’t realize you and Dad were the same age. You’re… you look so much better.” He winced. “Tell me everything.”
I backed up until I was leaning against the wall next to the door, dropped his coat, and started talking. “I was always big for my age and that meant people either left me alone completely because they were scared, or they came after me because they had something to prove.”
He nodded and some of the fear cleared from his expression. I kept talking. I told him everything I could remember that had ever happened between me and Peter Gaffin, as well as some things that had only happened to Merit and Creed. “But there was so much… so often… those are only the worst things I remember.”
Angel nodded carefully and then went upstairs. I followed after him and found him pacing the bedroom with his Spider-Man tight in his arms. Was it a good thing that he’d decided to come to the bedroom we share? I didn’t know. I stood near the end of the bed and watched him, hoping he’d give me some clue.
“Casey bear,” he said in a tight, scratchy voice, “I’m so sorry for everything he did to you. I still don’t want my dad in jail. I feel bad about what he did. I hate that you hurt him back. I’ve thought about hurting him.” He buried his face against his toy and let out a low-pitched, terrible sound. “I left so I wouldn’t beat him to death with his fucking cane some night when he passed out. Or when he dragged me out of bed. I didn’t want to be him.”
He curled in on himself, and I’d had enough. I rushed across the room and gathered him into my arms. The second I had him held tight, I felt much better.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before we went. I should have.”
Angel dropped his stuffie and wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. He flexed with all his strength and surprised me as he hauled me down where he wanted me. I was shocked when he kissed me hard. He forced his tongue between my lips, and I groaned, dragging him tight to my body.
He pulled back, and I was still worried I’d lost him. That kiss had felt a fuck of a lot like goodbye.
“Are you my Casey bear?”
“Yes, little brother.”
His fingers dug into my neck and it ached. “You did what I never could. I hate it. I—fuck. I love it, too. You hit him back.”
“I didn’t want to hit anyone.”
He kissed me again with too much tongue. I didn’t care, simply opened wide and let him. His tongue bar clinked against my teeth. When he shoved me toward the bed, I went. He stood back, shoulders heaving, and worked open the buttons on his shirt one-handed.
“Grown-up,” he said, and I was shaken badly. My blood ran cold.
“But why—”
“I don’t want you to be gentle right now,” he said. “I don’t want… fuck. Get this shit off me.” I helped him with his shirt and the tie, and when those were gone I bent down and untied his sneakers for him while he was already working on his belt and pants. I kissed the soft skin of his stomach because it was beautiful and ridged with subtle muscles from his time spent working out with me in the mornings. I needed to be near him any way I could right now.
“Fuck me,” Angel demanded.
My breath gusted out of me. “Little brother—”
