August’s back muscles tensed, and the painful burn that felt like a whip lash was so intense, it was like welcoming home an old friend.
But this pain wasn’t his friend—it was his father’s belt against his bare skin, and agony burning through his nerve endings.
August screamed and bit harder, his teeth breaking through the skin deeply enough that his mouth filled with the copper taste of blood. Quinn’s words played on repeat, taunting him with thoughts he had locked away in the darkest corners of his mind.
“And then you said you loved me.”
His memories were spotty, but there was no denying the truth of what he said. August couldn’t understand why he would have forgotten something like that, but he couldn’t connect who he was in the past with who he was now.
Teenage August wasn’t who he was. It was just a phase. Quinn hadn’t meant anything to him. If he had, then he wouldn’t have forgotten him and moved on. See? No reason to panic because he was still straight, and he still played hockey, and he still knew who he was.
Besides, thinking about Quinn was painful. Not in the emotional sense, but physically, it made his back burn and his stomach revolt against life. It would be better to wipe the night’s events from his mind just like he had when his father found out he had kissed a boy—
Agony erupted behind his eyes, and August’s ears were filled with a high-pitched ringing that blocked every sensation and turned his vision white.
Through the ringing, his father’s voice grew in volume, quiet at first until it was booming like a drum.
“Are you telling me you had sex with a boy?!”
“I did. His name is Quinn. You know the Harlows, Dad. I think you would like him.”
“You think I would like a homosexual? If the Harlows had any common sense, they would beat that child until he straightened up, which is what I’m going to do to you.”
“Dad—”
“Shirt off. Hands behind your back. Get on your knees.”
“Dear, remember not to draw blood like last time, or the coach will start asking questions again.”
“Don’t tell me what to do with my son. He knows the rules of this house, and I will not have a sinner living under my roof.”
Pain so deep that August could feel it carving into his soul.
And then—
“Eddie! No!”
…
“August—call an ambulance! What if it’s his heart—”
“August!”
“August!”
“Hey, Gusty! What the fuck, man?”
The sudden rush of vomit coming up his throat was what finally knocked him back into his body. August flipped off the bed, half-crawling as he hurried to the bathroom, making it as far as his polished bathtub before he emptied the contents of his stomach with one awful retch.
Tears and snot quickly joined the splatter of vomit dripping from his chin, and August only had enough time to suck in a lungful of oxygen before he was gagging again.
The ringing was dying down, leaving his body shaking and feeling weak, but the piercing pressure in his head remained. August didn’t know how much longer he could take it without begging Niko to call him an ambulance, but he wouldn’t be able to ask for one until his stomach stopped spasming.
By the time it ended, August’s teeth were chattering, and he was acutely aware that he was sobbing so loudly that it was causing his already sore throat to ache. He slumped to the floor, hugging his arms to his chest, as if he could forcefully keep himself from falling apart.
The sound of water running and the hum of words he couldn’t understand finished off what was left of the ringing, providing relief so desperately needed that he almost felt high from it.
August couldn’t move, so he lay where he was, teeth chattering and sobs dying into short breaths that were easier to take. The longer he listened to the humming, the less his head felt like it was being cracked open.
